The mother came down to the kitchen. “Oh,
dear, what a fright I’ve had! It’s
given me the sick headache. I know it has.”
“Oh, ma,” said the girl.
“I know it has—I know it. Oh,
if your father was only here! He’d settle
those Yankees mighty quick—he’d settle
’em! Two poor helpless women—”
“Why, ma, what makes you act so? The Yankees
haven’t—”
“Oh, they’ll be back—they’ll
be back. Two poor helpless women! Your father
and your uncle Asa and Bill off galavanting around
and fighting when they ought to be protecting their
home! That’s the kind of men they are.
Didn’t I say to your father just before he left—”
“Ma,” said the girl, coming suddenly from
the window, “the barn door is open. I wonder
if they took old Santo?”
“Oh, of course they have—of course—Mary,
I don’t see what we are going to do—I
don’t see what we are going to do.”
The girl said, “Ma, I’m going to see if
they took old Santo.”
“Mary,” cried the mother, “don’t
you dare!”
“But think of poor old Sant, ma.”
“Never you mind old Santo. We’re
lucky to be safe ourselves, I tell you. Never
mind old Santo. Don’t you dare to go out
there, Mary—Mary!”
The girl had unlocked the door and stepped out upon
the porch. The mother cried in despair, “Mary!”
“Why, there isn’t anybody out here,”
the girl called in response. She stood for a
moment with a curious smile upon her face as of gleeful
satisfaction at her daring.
The breeze was waving the boughs of the apple trees.
A rooster with an air importantly courteous was conducting
three hens upon a foraging tour. On the hillside
at the rear of the grey old barn the red leaves of
a creeper flamed amid the summer foliage. High
in the sky clouds rolled toward the north. The
girl swung impulsively from the little stoop and ran
toward the barn.
The great door was open, and the carved peg which
usually performed the office of a catch lay on the
ground. The girl could not see into the barn
because of the heavy shadows. She paused in a
listening attitude and heard a horse munching placidly.
She gave a cry of delight and sprang across the threshold.
Then she suddenly shrank back and gasped. She
had confronted three men in grey seated upon the floor
with their legs stretched out and their backs against
Santo’s manger. Their dust-covered countenances
were expanded in grins.
As Mary sprang backward and screamed, one of the calm
men in grey, still grinning, announced, “I knowed
you’d holler.” Sitting there comfortably
the three surveyed her with amusement.
Mary caught her breath, throwing her hand up to her
throat. “Oh!” she said, “you—you
frightened me!”
“We’re sorry, lady, but couldn’t
help it no way,” cheerfully responded another.
“I knowed you’d holler when I seen you
coming yere, but I raikoned we couldn’t help
it no way. We hain’t a-troubling this yere
barn, I don’t guess. We been doing some
mighty tall sleeping yere. We done woke when
them Yanks loped past.”
