Mr. Westall and his companions
could stop him. When he was made to understand that he had committed a
blunder, and that the boy was as good a Confederate as he was himself,
the planter was profuse in his apologies.

"Alight," said he, giving Rodney his hand and almost pulling him out of
his saddle. "I'm sorry for what I said, but that horse made me suspicion
you. I wouldn't ride him through the country for all the money there is
in Missoury. You'd best give up trying to find Price and jine in with
Thompson's men. You won't have to go so far to find 'em."

Rodney had thought of that, but there was Dick Graham! He could not give
up the hope of finding his old schoolmate and serving out his year with
him.

After the planter had given the Emergency men a good dinner he brought
out writing materials, and Mr. Westall proceeded to write the letter he
had promised to give Rodney, and which he hoped would be the means of
taking him safely through to Springfield. He and all his friends, the
planter included, signed it, and the boy tucked it into his boot leg.

"You may be sure that I shall not show it to any Union man," said the
latter, with a smile. "It would hang me."

When they passed through the little settlement of Lesterville about
three o'clock that afternoon, Rodney and the horse he rode attracted
attention on every hand. All the farmers in the country for miles around
seemed to have flocked into town to discuss the latest news, and the
streets were full of loungers, every one of whom stared at the party and
had something to say regarding the boy, who was supposed to be a
prisoner. On two or three occasions Mr. Westall thought it prudent to
stop and explain the situation; and every time he did so, the loungers
came running from all directions to hear about it. Some of them thought
that Tom Percival had played a regular Yankee trick on Rodney in running
off with the roan colt and leaving him a stolen horse to ride, and
advised him to look out for himself. The story that Mr. Westall and his
friends had circulated about Tom seemed to have made every one his
enemy.

"I suppose you think every man we have been talking to is a Jackson man,
don't you?" said Mr. Westall, when they had left the settlement behind
and reached the open country once more. "Well, they aint. I saw some
Union men listening to what we said, and if they see a roan colt and a
boy without any boots on, they'll halt them and give them aid and
comfort."