"
He had his course fixed very clearly, and a veteran now in experience,
he could guide himself easily by the moon and stars. The clouds were
clearing away and a warm wind promised him dry clothing, soon. Long
afterward he thought it a strange coincidence that his cousin, Dick Mason,
in the far South should have been engaged upon an errand very similar in
nature, but different in incident.
He crossed the meadow, entered an orchard and then came to a narrow road.
The presence of the orchard indicated the proximity of a farmhouse,
and it occurred to Harry that he might buy a horse there. The farmer
was likely to be hostile, but risks must be taken. He drew his pistols.
He knew that neither could be fired after the thorough wetting in the
river, but the farmer would not know that. He saw the house presently,
a comfortable two-story frame building, standing among fine shade trees.
Without hesitation he knocked heavily on the door with the butt of a
pistol.
He was so anxious to hasten that his blows would have aroused the best
sleeper who ever slept, and the door was quickly opened by an elderly man,
not yet fully awake.
"I want to buy a horse."
"Buy a horse? At this time of the night?"
He was about to slam the door, but Harry put his foot over the sill and
the muzzle of his pistol within six inches of the man's nose.
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