"Don't be frightened, Mrs. Truman," said one of the men at the door. "You know us, and you know that we wouldn't harm you. We want a word or two with those young fellows who have come here trying to impose upon you and all of us." "Then why couldn't you come to the door and say so like a man, instead of sneaking up like a cowardly Secession bushwhacker?" demanded Mr. Truman, angrily. "Get out of the house and come in in the proper way." "Softly, softly," said one of the three men who had entered by the kitchen door. "Harsh words butter no parsnips, and in times like these one can't stand upon too much ceremony. We don't mean to intrude, but we do mean to get hold of that Secesh and the other chap, who for some reason of his own, is befriending him. Strike a light, please." "You have certainly made a mistake," said Mrs. Truman, going across the room to a table to find a match. "Our guests are both Union." "Then there's no harm done," replied the man at the door. "We understand that one of them claims to be some relation to old Justus Percival. If he is, he can't have any objections to riding over to Pilot Knob with some of us and proving his claim." The boys trembled when they heard these ominous works. A ride to Pilot Knob meant death to Tom Percival at any rate, and perhaps to his friend Rodney also. This was the darkest prospect yet, and it looked still darker when the lamp had, been lighted, and its rays fell upon the set, determined faces of the armed men who, with heavy shot-guns, covered all the avenues of escape. Rodney thought they must be men who had suffered at the hands of their secession neighbors, for they looked as savage as Mr. Truman had acted a while before. "Which is the traitor?" demanded the largest man in the party, who seemed to be the leader. "Neither one," replied Tom, settling back in the chair from which he had arisen when the men first appeared. "Which one is Union then, if that suits you better?" was the next question. "I say we both are," answered Tom. "I am Captain Percival, and I am now on my way home after having offered the services of myself and company to General Lyon. Justus Percival, of whom you spoke a moment since, is my uncle." "And who is this friend of yours?" "He is a schoolmate who left his own State because things didn't go to suit him, and who intends to enlist the first chance he gets." "On which side?" inquired the leader, squinting up both his eyes and nodding at Tom as if to say that he had him there. "Do you imagine that he would make a journey of almost a thousand miles for the sake of enlisting in the Confederate army when he might have done that at home?" asked Tom, in reply. "You must be crazy." "Not so crazy as you may think," said the leader, who seemed to be sure of his ground. "We have the best of evidence that he is secesh." "What sort of evidence?" "His own word."