Chapter II: In a Hostile Neighborhood

It was the intention of the mountaineers to duck Louis in the icy water of the horse trough. Sam Jacks had dilated upon what the Northern youth had said, and all hands had agreed that a “coolin’ off” would do the Northern mud-sill good. The spirit of rebellion had already reached the quiet town of Lee Run, and Louis was to be the first victim of the over-zealous inhabitants.

As the little crowd made its way around the depot to where the pump and trough were situated it attracted immediate attention, and folks came running from all directions, wanting to know what was the matter. To all of these Jacks explained the case in his own peculiar way, until half of those assembled felt certain that Louis was about the worst traitor that neighborhood had ever held.

“Duck him good, Jacks!” was the cry. “Let him cool off thoroughly.”

“Trust me for it!” puffed Jacks, as he felt of the ridge on his nose. “I’ll duck him once on our country’s account and twice on my own account!”

It must not be imagined that Louis submitted tamely to the proceedings. As soon as he was able, he began to struggle with might and main to free himself, and so vigorously did he haul and kick that soon one of the men holding his feet received a blow in the stomach which made him falter and lose his grip. But the others closed in, and in a moment more the place where the icy bath was to be administered was reached.

In the meantime, Andy and his father had come from the store. Seeing the wagon empty, they looked around for Louis.

“They took him over to the pump, Mr. Arlington,” piped up a child standing near.

“Dey is dun gwine ter duck him,” explained a darky, who sat on the edge of the store stoop, too lazy to get up and witness proceedings.

“To duck him!” gasped Andy. “What for?”

“Take de Northern starch outer him, I dun racken, sah.”

“The--the brutes!” murmured the Southern youth, and away he sped for the square, with his father stumping after him as rapidly as the cork leg would allow.

“Here, you let my friend alone!” cried Andy, bursting into the crowd. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You stand back, Andy Arlington!” growled Jacks. “We’re goin’ ter give him a duckin’, as he deserves.”

“Not much! He is my friend and guest, and you must let him alone.”

“Yes, yes; let him alone,” put in Mr. Arlington.

“He’s a Northerner an’ is talkin’ ag’in we-uns!” burst out one of the mountaineers.

“We don’t know but what he’s a spy,” added Jacks, determined, on account of the blow received, to make out the worst possible case against Louis.

“A spy! you are crazy!” answered Andy. “He came down from Goreville just on a friendly visit. Let go of him, or I’ll knock you down, Sam Jacks!”

And Andy squared off in such a determined fashion that Jacks fell back, and seeing this his companions did the same; and Louis struggled to his feet.

“There is certainly a mistake here,” said Mr. Arlington, with a deliberateness which instantly commanded attention. “This boy is a friend of our family and I can vouch for him that he means no harm in this neighborhood. I am as loyal to Virginia as any of you, but we have not yet reached the point where we must be on the lookout for spies. Come, Louis, we’ll drive home, and you can depend upon it that you shall be safe as long as you remain with me.”

He ranged upon one side of the boy, and, taking the hint, Andy ranged up on the other side. There were half a dozen murmurs, but the temper of the veteran was well known, and it was likewise known, and this was even more important, that he carried an effective side weapon with him upon all occasions.

Having reached the wagon unmolested, Louis clambered in and the others followed. There was the snap of the whip, and soon Lee Run and the discontented ones were left behind. When the town had disappeared from view, Louis drew a long breath.

“It looks as if affairs were getting too hot down here for my safety,” he said, with a faint smile. “I never dreamed of being attacked in this fashion.”

“You will find hot-heads wherever you go, Louis,” answered Mr. Arlington. Then, after a moment’s reflection, he continued: “But, all told, I don’t know but that it will be as well for you to get home before long, not but that I would like you to spend Christmas with us.”

“I promised mother to be home on Christmas. I think I’ll start to-morrow morning. It was very kind of you and Andy to come to my aid. I don’t want you to get into trouble with your neighbors on my account.”

“Those rough mountaineers are hardly neighbors,” said Mr. Arlington. “They are very impulsive and generally aching for a chance to quarrel with some one, especially a newcomer. This talk of war has stirred them so that some of them have lost their heads completely and they’ll want to go shooting at something by to-morrow.”

“Well, they needn’t shoot at me,” answered Louis, but in a light tone, for he did not dream of the perils so close at hand.

The drive to the plantation was quickly at an end, and Mr. Arlington stumped into the house, to be warmly embraced by his wife and by pretty Grace Arlington, Andy’s only sister, a girl of fifteen. In the meantime Louis took the rabbits he had shot around to the kitchen and handed them over to the colored cook. Then he joined Andy down in the stable yard, to see that his horse was being cared for properly.

“I think I’ll leave directly after breakfast,” he said to his chum. “Father will most likely hear of what is up, and he’ll be anxious about me.”

“I would rather have you stay,” answered Andy, his face flushing. “Northern or not, I want folks around here to understand that they sha’n’t mistreat my guest.”

“You’re a chum worth having,” laughed Louis, and they returned to the house arm in arm, never, alas, thinking of how soon the cruel war was to separate them and make them, to a certain degree, enemies!

Grace Arlington had been questioning her father eagerly about the course of public events, and when Louis appeared she lost no time in pouncing down upon him.

“Oh, Louis, is it true, are we going to fight you Northern people?” she burst out.

“Well, I trust you won’t fight me,” he replied, with a smile, for deep down in his heart the youth thought Grace Arlington just the best and most lovable girl he had ever known.

“I don’t know about that--if you join the Northerners,” she pouted. “If you fight against us I’ll think you real mean.”

“You would want a fellow to stick up for what he considered his duty, wouldn’t you, Grace?”

“I suppose I would, but--but--how can you think of fighting us when we are so entirely in the right?” and she bent a reproachful pair of brown eyes on him in such a manner that his heart gave a big jump, and he was forced to turn away.

Luckily Andy interrupted the brief tête-à-tête at this point, and in a little while the conversation became general. Soon dinner was announced and once again Louis found Grace at his side. But now he was on his guard, and not to wound her feelings talked about everything else he could think of but the threatened war.

The evening which followed, full of songs and music from Grace, who could both play on the piano and sing very well, and filled in with war anecdotes by Mr. Arlington, was one Louis never forgot. What a happy and good-natured family they were, and what a truly jolly girl Grace was! Many were the times he remembered every detail of the scene, as he lay in the trenches in the rain and darkness, in front of the enemy and, for all he knew to the contrary, in front of Andy!

But the best of times must come to an end, and at eleven o’clock the gathering broke up, and Louis went off, to sleep his last sleep by Andy’s side for many a weary, perilous month to come.

Six o’clock found the two boys stirring. Both walked to the dairy and then to the barn, where Louis saw to it that his horse would be ready for him immediately after breakfast.

The morning meal, in honor of the departing guest, was more elaborate than usual, and during the progress of the breakfast Mr. Arlington expressed the hope that Louis would have no trouble in getting home.

“Pomp tells me that the news that South Carolina has seceded has travelled everywhere during the night, and in consequence, the country folks are growing suspicious of all strangers. You had better go straight on through Maryland without stopping.”

“I wonder if Maryland will join us if it comes to war?” said Andy.

“Of course she will join,” answered Mr. Arlington. But in this the veteran was mistaken. Although a slave State and with strong Southern tendencies, Maryland, when the all-important test came, remained in the Union. And, as a matter of fact, even a portion of Mr. Arlington’s home State also remained, forming what has since been known as West Virginia.

The breakfast over, Louis felt that he must be on his way. It was a raw winter’s day and the distance to be covered was nearer forty miles than thirty. There was a winding turnpike leading to the Potomac River, and, this crossed, there remained a choice of two roads, one almost direct, but very hilly and stony, and the other a serpentine way several miles longer but much more easily travelled.

“Well, good-bye and good luck to you!” were Andy’s parting words, and the two shook hands, and Louis expressed the wish that when they met again all inter-State difficulties would be settled once and forever.

Louis found the parting from Grace harder than ever. There were tears in the eyes of the little Virginian, and the boy could scarcely speak to her because of the lump which arose in his throat.

But at last it was all over, and he had mounted his horse, which one of the slaves had brought up to the door. He was just about to tip his hat in a parting adieu when, on glancing towards a side road skirting the plantation on the left, his eyes caught sight of half a dozen men galloping swiftly towards him. A closer inspection revealed the fact that the men were mountaineers and at their head rode Sam Jacks!

“They are after me!” he thought. He was about to turn to his friends, when he as quickly changed his mind. There was a good chance to escape those approaching, and why should he cause the Arlingtons further trouble on his behalf? He tipped his hat, urged forward his horse, and in five seconds was galloping towards the main road at high speed.

“He certainly means to get home before nightfall,” cried Andy, as he watched Louis disappear in a cloud of dust. “I wish he believed as we do and could stay here.”

He had scarcely spoken when Mr. Arlington discovered Sam Jacks and his followers. The men rode straight for the house, cutting into a lane leading up from the dairy.

“Well, Jacks, what brings you this morning?” demanded the veteran, as the mountaineer came to a halt.

“We came to have a talk with that boy,” was the gruff answer. The mountaineers had talked matters over and had decided to put on a bold front.

“So you came here to insult our guest, did you?”

“We came here to find out what he’s up to in these parts, Colonel,” put in a second of the newcomers.

“I told you yesterday he was here only on a friendly visit.”

“Jacks thinks he is a spy.”

“Jacks is too forward entirely in his thinking. Take my word for it, men, there are no spies as yet around Lee Run. The time is not yet ripe for that sort of thing.”

“Where’s the boy?”

“He has left.”

“Gone away!” came in a chorus.

“Yes.”

“Gone away for good?” demanded Jacks, sourly.

“Yes; he left for his home in Pennsylvania directly after breakfast, fearing his folks would grow anxious about him.”

The face of the leader of the mountaineers fell. He had not forgotten the blow Louis had given him across the face and he was longing, with the aid of his followers, to “square accounts.”

“Which way did he go?”

“Went on horseback,” put in Andy, before his father could speak. He understood very well that Jacks wanted to know what road had been taken, but purposely pretended to misunderstand the fellow.

“There is no use in trying to catch him--now.” said Mr. Arlington, taking up the cue. “He has gone, and as he is a perfectly innocent young fellow I trust he reaches home in safety. Come, Grace, come, wife,” and he turned into the house, and Andy followed. From the parlor windows they saw Jacks and his men consult together for several minutes and then ride slowly away.

“It’s a good thing they didn’t get here half an hour ago,” said Andy, with a sigh of relief, in which Grace readily joined. “Even if we had prevented them from getting at Louis here they would have waylaid him when he did start off. They are fooled now--and serves ’em right.”

But were Jacks and his men fooled? Let us wait and see.