Peggy turned around abruptly, and there stood the same young fellow who had mended her saddle when she and her mother were waiting on the Germantown road. He was more ragged than ever, and thinner too, if that were possible. He still wore his air of jaunty assurance, however, and returned her astonished gaze with a glance of amusement. “Thou?” breathed Peggy. “And what does thee want?” “Naught, but to return thy horse,” he answered. “Oh! did thee find her?” cried the girl in pleased tones. “How good of thee to bring her to me! Where did thee find her? And the thief? What did thee do with him?” “The thief? Oh, I brought him too,” he said coolly. “But where is he?” she demanded looking around. “I do not see him.” “Here,” he said sweeping her an elaborate bow. “Thee?” Peggy recoiled involuntarily as the lad spoke. “Oh, how could thee do it? How could thee?” she burst forth. “I couldn’t. That’s why I brought her back. I don’t steal from a girl.” “But why did thee keep her so long?” she asked, mollified somewhat by this speech. “I wanted to see my people,” he answered. “And did thee?” she queried, her tender heart stirred by this. “No; they had moved, or something had happened. They weren’t there any more.” He spoke wearily and with some bitterness. “I’d have sold that horse if I hadn’t kept thinking how fond you were of her.” “And did thee know that I had offered a reward for her, friend?” “Why, of course I knew,” he replied. “Now as I am entitled to the money for both the horse and thief, suppose you bring it out to me.” “But my pony,” objected Peggy. “How do I know that thee will not take her again?” “Your horse?” he questioned angrily. “Don’t fear! Don’t you suppose that if I had wanted to keep her I’d have done it? Now if you are going to give me the money, do it. Then feed your mare. She hasn’t had much more than I have. Don’t be afraid of me, but hurry. I can’t stay around here any longer.” “I am not afraid, friend,” responded Peggy her hesitation vanishing. “I was just thinking that thee looked hungry. Come to the house, and eat something. Then thou shalt have thy money, though I know not what my mother will say to that part of it. But thee should eat anyway. Come!” “I will not,” he cried. “I will not. Someone might see me and arrest me.” “But if mother and I do not wish to prosecute ’tis not the concern of any,” she told him mildly. “Now that I have Star, I would not wish to be severe, and thou didst bring her back. Mother will feel the same way.” “’Tis not that,” he cried sharply. “Don’t you understand? I have run away from the army, and I don’t want to be caught. I have been advertised, as well as your horse.”