You admit having
robbed my brother, and I feel that I must avenge him. He has been acting
as a dispatch rider, and I can make a pretty shrewd guess about what you
took from him. So I think I'll stay here."
Harry blamed himself bitterly for his careless and unfortunate
expressions. He did not fear the result of a duel with this man, being
the master of woodcraft that he was, but he was losing time, valuable
time, time more precious than gold and diamonds, time heavy with the
fate of armies and a nation. He grew furiously angry at everything, and
angriest at Haskell.
"Mr. Haskell," he called, "I'm getting tired of your society, and I make
you a polite request to go away."
"Oh, no, you're not tired. You merely think you are, and I couldn't
consider conceding to your request. It's for your good more than mine.
My society is elevating to any Johnny Reb."
"Then I warn you that I may have to hurt you."
"How about getting hurt yourself?"
Harry was silent. His acute ears brought him the sound of Haskell moving
a little in his own particular hollow. The lonesome owl hooted twice
more, but there was no sound to betoken the approach of Union troops in
the forest. The duel of weapons and wits would have to be fought out
alone by Haskell and himself.
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