"Can ye trust your men?" Mercer asked, and I replied that Faulkner was
as staunch as cold steel, and that he had picked the others.
"Well, let's see your accommodation," and the old fellow hopped to his
feet, and was out of doors before I could get the lantern.
Mercer on a matter of this sort was a different being from the decayed
landlord of the water-side tavern. His spectacled eyes peered
everywhere, and his shrewd sense judged instantly of a thing's value.
He approved of the tobacco-shed as a store for arms, for he could reach
it from the river by a little-used road through the woods. It was easy
so to arrange, the contents that a passing visitor could guess nothing,
and no one ever penetrated to its recesses but Faulkner and myself. I
summoned Faulkner to the conference, and told him his duties, which, he
undertook with sober interest. He was a dry stick from Fife, who spoke
seldom and wrought mightily.
Faulkner attended to Mercer's consignments, and I took once more to the
road. I had to arrange that arms from the coast or the river-sides
could be sent inland, and for this purpose I had a regiment of pack
horses that delivered my own stores as well. I had to visit all the men
on the list whom I did not know, and a weary job it was.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165