will
treat you as though you were one of the royal blood if you can only get
to him; but there's the trouble. He lives in the southwestern part of
the State, and that's a right smart piece from here."

"I know it; but I have a good horse somewhere outside," answered
Rodney.

"So I supposed; but you can't depend upon your horse to tell you whether
you are talking to a Yankee sympathizer or an honest Confederate, can
you? The ride won't amount to anything, but you have a tough bit of
country to go through. Your short experience right here among friends
will serve to show you how very suspicious everybody is. We don't trust
our nearest neighbors any more, and so you can imagine what we think of
a stranger, especially if he happens to own a watch chain that looks
something like one that is worn by a horse-thief," said Mr. Westall,
smiling at the boy as he handed his property back to him. "Now, Jeff,
how could you have made such a mistake? Can't you see that they don't at
all resemble each other?"

"Now that I see them together I can," was Jeff's answer. "But don't he
look a trifle as that thief might look if his duds was changed and his
whiskers took off?"

Rodney thought from the first that his old schoolmate did not look just
as he did the last time he saw him, and now he knew the reason. To a
very slight mustache Tom Percival, since leaving the Barrington Academy,
had added a pair of what the students would have called "side-boards;"
but they were so very scant that they could not by any possibility be
looked upon as a disguise. Mr. Westall laughed at the idea.

"Jeff, you and your friends are too anxious to do something for the
cause," said he. "Of course that is better than being lukewarm, but you
don't want to be too brash or you may get yourselves into trouble. Can
you give us some supper? But first we want to put this prisoner where he
will be safe."

"Couldn't you postpone that part of the programme until _I_ have had a
bite to eat, or do you think there's nobody hungry but yourselves?"
asked the prisoner, in the most unconcerned manner possible; and there
was no mistaking his voice. It was Tom Percival's voice.

"I didn't think about you," answered Mr. Westall. "And perhaps if you
had your dues, you would be left to go hungry. But we are not savages,
even if we are down on your way of thinking and acting."

"Better give him a sup of coffee to keep the cold out and then chuck him
in the old corncrib," sug