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.

“I want to buy a horse,” he repeated, “and you want to sell one to me.  I think you realize that fact, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” replied the man, looking down the muzzle of the big horse pistol.

“Come outside and close the door behind you.  I know you haven’t on many clothes, but the night’s warm, and you need fresh air.”

The man with the muzzle of the pistol still near his nose, obeyed.  But as he looked at the weapon he also had a comprehensive view of the one who held it.

“Wet ain’t you?” he said.

“Do you think it necessary to put it in the form of a question?”

“I don’t like to say, unless I’m shore.”

“Where do you keep your horses?”

“In the barn here to the left.  What kind of a horse did you think you’d keer fur most, stranger?”

“The biggest, the strongest and fastest you’ve got”

“I thought mebbe you’d want one with wings, you ’pear to be in such a pow’ful hurry.  I wish you wouldn’t keep that pistol so near to my nose.  ‘Sides, you’ve gethered so much mud an’ water ’bout you that you ain’t so very purty to look at!”

“It’s your own mud and water.  I didn’t bring it into this country with me.”

“Which means that you don’t belong in these parts.  I reckon lookin’ at you that you wuz one o’ them rebels that went to Gettysburg and then come back ag’in.”

“Exactly right, Mr. Farmer.  I’m an officer in General Lee’s army.”

“Then I wuz right ‘bout you needin’ a horse with wings.  An’ I guess all the men in your army need horses with wings.  Don’t be in such a tarnal hurry.  You’re goin’ to stay right up here with us, boarders, so to speak, till the war is over.”

Harry laughed.

“Kind of you,” he said, “but here is the stable and do you open the stall doors one by one, and let me see the horses.  At the first sign of any trick I pull the trigger.”

“Well, as I don’t like violence I’ll show you the horses.  Here’s the gray mare, five years old, swift but can’t last long.  This is old Rube, nigh onto ten, mighty strong, but as balky as a Johnny Reb hisself.  Don’t want him!  No?  Then I think that’s about all.”