Zeke Turner Jersey

The General looked at me between puffs of his cigar. "I hear you've ridden over fifty miles to-day."

Old Dismukes rose. "Good-night. Shall I send this boy that Yankee's horse?"

"Oh! that-a-way."

I took my weapon into my bridle-hand by the barrel and began to draw from my bosom the empty envelope addressed Coralie Rothvelt. At the same time I let my horse move forward again, while I still listened backward with my brain as busy as a mill. Was there here no hidden succor? Was that no part of Ned Ferry's plan--if the plan was his? Were those villains waiting yet, up at the ford? I could hear nothing at my back but the singing of innumerable birds.

"Two--what?" His smile broadened. "You know that?"

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