The Little Brown Jug at KildareNicholson, Meredith
General
The Little Brown Jug at Kildare
Nicholson, Meredith
Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Governors -- Fiction; Humorous stories; North Carolina -- Fiction; South Carolina -- Fiction
"I guess those fellows can hold 'em till morning," said Cooke. "We've
got to clean up the whole business by to-morrow night. You can't have
two states at war with each other this way without shaking up the
universe, and if federal troops come down here to straighten things out
it won't be funny."
They had ridden about a mile, when Cooke checked his horse with an
exclamation.
"There's somebody coming like the devil was after him. It must be
Gillingwater."
They drew rein and waited, the quick patter of hoofs ringing out sharply
in the still night. The moonlight gave them a fair sweep of the road,
and they at once saw a horseman galloping rapidly toward them.
"Lordy, the man's on fire!" gasped Ardmore.
"By George, you're right!" muttered Collins, moving nervously in his
saddle. "It's a human sunburst."
"It's only his gold braid," explained the practical Cooke.
"He must have on solid gold armor, then," declared Collins.
Seeing three men drawn across the road, the horseman began to check his
flight.
"Men!" he shouted, as his horse pawed the air with its forefeet, "is
this the road to Ardsley?"
"Right you are," yelled Cooke, and they were aware of a flash, a glitter
that startled and dazzled the eye, and Colonel Rutherford Gillingwater
thundered on.
Ardmore looked at his watch.
"He's undoubtedly a man of action, if I ever saw one; and I think we are
to be congratulated on having so gallant a commander for our troops,"
said the master of Ardsley; but the sight of Rutherford Gillingwater had
filled his soul with jealous forebodings. He had heard that women are
prone to fall in worship before warriors in their battle armor, and he
was sure that Jerry Dangerfield was a girl of infinitely kind heart, who
might not, when face to face with the issue, subject the man she had
engaged to marry to any severe test.
They rode on, however, and saw presently the lights of camp-fires, and a
little later were ceremoniously halted at the roadside by an armed
guard.
It had been arranged that Collins, who had once been a second
lieutenant in the Georgia militia, should be presented as an officer of
the regular army, detailed as special aide to Governor Dangerfield
during the encampment, and that in case Gillingwater failed to return
promptly he should take command of the North Carolina forces.
An open field had been seized for the night's camp, and the tents
already shone white in the moonlight. The three men introduced
themselves to the militia officers, and Collins expressed their regret
that they had missed the adjutant-general.
"Governor Dangerfield wished you to move your force on to Ardsley should
we fail to meet Colonel Gillingwater; and you had better strike your
tents and be in readiness to advance in case he doesn't personally
return with orders."
Captain Collins, as he had designated himself, apologized for not being
in uniform.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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