We'll be doubly careful, because
of it, and I hope after this war is over to share your fine hospitality
once more."
"You'll sho'ly be welcome an' ev'y man an' boy with you will be welcome,
too. Fuhthah on, 'bout foah hund'ed yahds, you'll come to a path leadin'
into the woods. You take that path, colonel. It'll be sundown soon,
an' you follow it th'ough the night."
The two men shook hands again, and then the soldiers rode on at a brisk
trot. Malachi White sat on the fence, looking at them from under the
brim of his old straw hat, until they came to the path that he had
indicated and disappeared in the woods. Then he sighed and walked back
slowly to his house in the cornfield. Malachi White had no education,
but he had much judgment and he was a philosopher.
But Dick and the others rode on through the forest, penetrating into the
high and rough hills which were sparsely inhabited. The nights, as it
was now October, were cool, despite the heat and dust of the day, and
they rode in a grateful silence. It was more than an hour after dark
when Powell, one of the Frankforters, spoke:
"We can hit the old town by midnight easy enough," he said.
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