Chapter VII: A Twilight Adventure
It was a strange scene that we approached. Before a crossroad leading into a grove of beech trees, a man sat on his horse with a rifle across his saddle. He did not speak until we were before him in the road, and then his words were sinister.
"Ride on!" he said.
But my Uncle Abner did not ride on. He pulled up his big chestnut and looked calmly at the man.
"You speak like one having authority," he said.
The man answered with an oath.
"Ride on, or you'll get into trouble!"
"I am accustomed to trouble," replied my uncle with great composure; "you must give me a better reason."
"I'll give you hell!" growled the man. "Ride on!"
Abner's eyes traveled over the speaker with a deliberate scrutiny.
"It is not yours to give," he said, "although possibly to receive. Are the roads of Virginia held by arms?"
"This one is," replied the man.
"I think not," replied my Uncle Abner, and, touching his horse with his heel, he turned into the crossroad.
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