MAD ANTHONY'S SCOUTS; OR, THE RANGERS OF KENTUCKY. BY EMERSON RODMAN. NEW YORK: BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 WILLIAM STREET. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by FRANK STARR & CO., In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. MAD ANTHONY'S SCOUTS; OR, THE RANGERS OF KENTUCKY. CHAPTER I. COMRADES OF THE FOREST. "Haow dew yeou dew, cap.?" "Fine, yer honor; and how is yerself?" A tall, spare specimen of the backwoodsman, who was sitting by a smouldering camp-fire, had arisen and grasped the hand of a genial-faced Irishman, who was also clad in the habiliments of the forest. "My name is Smith, Hezekiah Smith," said the former, "What is yours?" "Pat Mulroony, lately from Tipperary, Ireland, may it plase yer honor." "Haow did you--how was it you came to find me, if I may be allowed to inquire?" asked Smith, peering round in his face. "I was jist thraveling through the forest, when I spied the shmoke of fire, and says I to meself, says I, 'There's ayther some graan youngster, or a band of haythen, as doesn't care who saas their camp-fire,' and with that, I pokes around in the wood till I spies you cookin' your legs over the blaze, when I knows by the swate expression of yer countenance, that ye was a gintleman, and, bedad, I finds I was right." "What might you be doing? What's your business?" pursued Smith, laboring under a great curiosity. "Faith, I'm an _adventoorer_, as the convict said. I've been wanderin' in these parts for siveral wakes, without catchin' glimpse of a white skin, till I came upon you." "That ain't what I mean. What brought you out here in the first place?" "Me legs," replied the Irishman, decidedly. "Just so, just so; if you've no objection, I'd like to know your _motive_, not meaning any offence at all." "Begorrah, but ye're axin' too much," replied Pat, with a shake of his head. "Niver ye mind the _indoocement_ that I has for taking to the woods. If I may be so bold, what was the same motive that brought yerself here?" "Nothing in particular--nothing in particular," replied Smith, as if the subject was distasteful to him. It was plain that both of these characters had a secret history--a history which each was determined should remain a secret with himself. The short conversation recorded above had been sufficient for this fact to become evident to both, and as if by mutual consent, neither made any further reference to it. It sufficed that they were white, civilized beings, wanderers in a dangerous territory, where neither, for an hour, could be assured of his own safety, and where both lacked the great safeguard of experience. This was enough to make them firm and fast friends at once. "Are you baound up or down the river," queried Hezekiah Smith, refering to the Ohio, which was but a few hundred yards distant.