"Hol' on a minnet!" Peter Witheby was crying to the major, as the
latter, full of the importance and dignity of his position as protector
of Migglesville, paced forward swiftly. The veteran already felt upon
his brow a wreath formed of the flowers of gratitude, and as he strode
he was absorbed in planning a calm and self-contained manner of wearing
it. "Hol' on a minnet!" piped old Peter in the rear.
At last the major, aroused from his dream of triumph, turned about
wrathfully. "Well, what?"
"Now, look a' here," said Peter. "What 'che goin' t' do?"
The major, with a gesture of supreme exasperation, wheeled again and
went on. When he arrived at the cornfield he halted and waited for
Peter. He had suddenly felt that indefinable menace in the landscape.
"Well?" demanded Peter, panting.
The major's eyes wavered a trifle. "Well," he repeated--"well, I'm goin'
in there an' bring out that there rebel."
They both paused and studied the gently swaying masses of corn, and
behind them the looming woods, sinister with possible secrets.
"Well," said old Peter.
The major moved uneasily and put his hand to his brow. Peter waited in
obvious expectation.
The major crossed through the grass at the roadside and climbed the
fence. He put both legs over the topmost rail and then sat perched
there, facing the woods. Once he turned his head and asked, "What?"
"I hain't said anythin'," answered Peter.
The major clambered down from the fence and went slowly into the corn,
his gun held in readiness. Peter stood in the road.
Presently the major returned and said, in a cautious whisper, "If yeh
hear anythin', you come a-runnin', will yeh?"
"Well, I hain't got no gun nor nuthin'," said Peter, in the same low
tone; "what good 'ud I do?"
"Well, yeh might come along with me an' watch," said the major. "Four
eyes is better'n two."
"If I had a gun----" began Peter.
"Oh, yeh don't need no gun," interrupted the major, waving his hand.
"All I'm afraid of is that I won't find 'im. My eyes ain't so good as
they was."
"Well----"
"Come along," whispered the major. "Yeh hain't afraid, are yeh?"
"No, but----"
"Well, come along, then. What's th' matter with yeh?"
Peter climbed the fence. He paused on the top rail and took a prolonged
stare at the inscrutable woods. When he joined the major in the
cornfield he said, with a touch of anger:
"Well, you got the gun. Remember that. If he comes for me, I hain't got
a blame thing!"
"Shucks!" answered the major. "He ain't agoin' t' come for yeh."
The two then began a wary journey through the corn. One by one the
long aisles between the rows appeared. As they glanced along each of
them it seemed as if some gruesome thing had just previously vacated
it. Old Peter halted once and whispered: "Say, look a' here;
supposin'--supposin'----"
"Supposin' what?" demanded the major.
"Supposin'----" said Peter. "Well, remember you got th' gun, an' I
hain't got anythin'."
"Thunder!" said the major.
When they got to where the stalks were very short because of the shade
cast by the trees of the wood, they halted again. The leaves were gently
swishing in the breeze. Before them stretched the mystic green wall of
the forest, and there seemed to be in it eyes which followed each of
their movements.