He leaned from the bed and pulling aside the curtain a half an inch or so, looked into the room.  The fire had died down except a few coals which cast but a faint light.  Yet it was sufficient to show Dick that the two Leffingwells had not gone to bed.  They were sitting fully clothed before the fireplace, and three other persons were with them.

As Dick stared his eyes grew more used to the half dusk and he saw clearly.  The three strangers were young men, all armed heavily, and the resemblance of two of them to the Leffingwells was so striking that he had no doubt they were their sons.  Now he understood about those empty stalls.  The third man, who had been sitting with his shoulder toward Dick, turned his face presently, and the boy with difficulty repressed an exclamation.  It was the one who had reined his horse across the road to stop him.  A fourth and conclusive signal of alarm was registered upon his brain.

He began to dress rapidly and without noise.  Meanwhile he listened intently and could hear the words they spoke.  The woman was pleading with them to let him go.  He was only a harmless lad, and while these were dark days, a crime committed now might yet be punished.

“A harmless boy,” said the strange man.  “He’s quick, an’ strong enough, I tell you.  You should have seen how he rode me down, and then shot Garmon in the arm.”

“I’d like to have that hoss of his,” said the elder Leffingwell.  “He’s the finest brute I ever laid eyes on.  Sech power an’ sech action.  I noticed him at once, when Mason come ridin’ up.  S’pose we jest take the hoss and send the boy on.”

“A hoss like that would be knowed,” protested the woman.  “What if sojers come lookin’ fur him!”

“We could run him off in the hills an’ keep him there a while,” said Leffingwell.  “I know places where sojers wouldn’t find that hoss in a thousand years.  What do you say to that, Kerins?”

“Good as fur as it goes,” replied Kerins, “but it don’t go fur enough by a long shot.  The Yanks whipped the Johnnies in a big battle at Mill Spring.  Me an’ my pardners have been hangin’ ‘roun’ in the woods, seein’ what would happen.  Now, we know that this boy rode straight from the tent of General Thomas hisself.  He’s a Union sojer, an’ young as he is, he’s an officer.  He wouldn’t be sent out by General Thomas hisself ’less it was on big business.  He’s got messages, dispatches of some kind that are worth a heap to somebody.  With all the armies gatherin’ in the south an’ west of the state it stands to reason that them dispatches mean a lot.  Now, we’ve got to get ’em an’ get the full worth of ’em from them to whom they’re worth the most.”

“He’s got a pistol,” said the elder Leffingwell, “I seed it in his belt.  If he wakes before we grab him he’ll shoot.”

The man Kerins laughed.

“He’ll never get a chance to shoot,” he said.  “Why, after all he went through today, he’ll sleep like a log till mornin’.”