'Oh! never mind,' said the Colonel, who had recovered his coolness; 'but
why are all these people here?'

'Thar's a barbecue cumin' off to-morrer on the camp-ground, and the
house is cram full.'

'Is that so?' said the Colonel, then turning to me he added, 'Moye has
taken the railroad somewhere else; I must get to a telegraph-office at
once, to head him off. The nearest one is Wilmington. With all these
rowdies here, it will not do to leave the horses alone--will you stay
and keep an eye on them over to-morrow?'

'Yes, I will, cheerfully.'

'Thar's a mighty hard set round har now, Cunnel,' said the landlord;
'and the most peaceable git inter scrapes ef they han't no friends.
Hadn't ye better show the gentleman some of your'n, 'fore you go?'

'Yes, yes, I didn't think of that. Who is here?'

'Wal, thar's Cunnel Taylor, Bill Barnes, Sam Heddleson, Jo' Shackelford.
Andy Jones, Rob Brown, and lots of others.'

'Where's Andy Jones?'

'Reckon he's turned in; I'll see.' As the landlord opened a door which
led from the hall, the Colonel said to me: 'Andy is a Union man, but
he'd fight to the death for me.'