“Run?” suggested the captain. “Well, now,” said Chadwick, “a man in a corner can’t most ingener’lly run. Git me hemmed in, an’ I’ll scratch an’ bite an’ scuffle the best way I know how. It’s human natur’, an’ I’m mighty glad it is; for if that old man’s eyes didn’t tell no lies we’ll have to scratch an’ scuffle before we git away from this mountain.” Captain Moseley bit his mustache and smiled grimly as the tired horses toiled up the road. A vague idea of possible danger had crossed his mind while talking to Uncle Billy Powers, but he dismissed it at once as a matter of little importance to a soldier bent on carrying out his orders at all hazards. It was not long before the two travelers found themselves on a plateau formed by a shoulder of the mountain. On this plateau were abundant signs of life. Cattle were grazing about among the trees, chickens were crowing, and in the distance could be heard the sound of a woman’s voice singing. As they pressed forward along the level road they came in sight of a cabin, and the blue smoke curling from its short chimney was suggestive of hospitality. It was a comfortable-looking cabin, too, flanked by several outhouses. The buildings, in contrast with the majestic bulk of the mountain, that still rose precipitously skyward, were curiously small, but there was an air of more than ordinary neatness and coziness about them. And there were touches of feminine hands here and there that made an impression—rows of well-kept boxwood winding like a green serpent through the yard, and a privet hedge that gave promise of rare sweetness in the spring. As the soldiers approached, a dog barked, and then the singing ceased, and the figure of a young girl appeared in the doorway, only to disappear like a flash. This vision, vanishing with incredible swiftness, was succeeded by a more substantial one in the shape of a motherly looking woman, who stood gazing over her spectacles at the horsemen, apparently undecided whether to frown or to smile. The smile would have undoubtedly forced its way to the pleasant face in any event, for the years had fashioned many a pathway for it, but just then Uncle Billy Powers himself pushed the woman aside and made his appearance, laughing. “’Light, boys, ’light!” he exclaimed, walking nimbly to the gate. “’Light whilst I off wi’ your creeturs’ gear. Ah!” he went on, as he busied himself unsaddling the horses, “you thought that while your Uncle Billy was a-moonin’ aroun’ down the hill yander you’d steal a march on your Aunt Crissy, an’ maybe come a-conscriptin’ of her into the army. But not—not so! Your Uncle Billy has been here long enough to get his hands an’ his face rested.” “You must have been in a tremendous hurry,” said Captain Moseley, remembering the weary length of mountain road he had climbed. “Why, I could ’a’ tuck a nap an’ ’a’ beat you,” said the old man. “Two miles of tough road, I should say,” responded Moseley.