LIFE OAK PLANTATION
The horse stood quietly, but his neck began to sweat, despite the coolness of the air; his flanks quivered.
Again the deep-throated bay tolled through the piney woods. A ringing yell followed it; a wicked sound; the rebel yell. A moment later there came the thud of many hoofs on the soft turf and a troop of horsemen broke into the road. They were a savage group; tall, lean, saddle colored, with fierce, cruel eyes, drooping mustaches, and goatees. Some were full bearded, some smooth shaven; all savage, felt hatted, booted, spurred upon one heel, and carrying rifles, not slung as do the cowboys, but loose in the hand, resting on the saddle bow. The leader held in leash a single huge bloodhound.
As he struck the highway the hound paused and with wrinkled brow studied the mixed trails. He swung his great head, drooping eyes troubled, seeking to cast about for the lost trail, but the leash held him. The riders were examining Giles and Leyden. Strangers in that section were a curiosity.
"Evenin'," observed the leader. He was younger than the others, less ragged.
"Good evening," replied Dr. Leyden.
"Y' all ain't seen a loose nigger 'long the road?"
"No," replied Leyden, and Giles glancing at him was surprised to see him draw out a cigar, light it slowly, and drop the match, still burning, into the dry grass beside the road. He knew that Leyden never smoked at that time of day.
"What do you want the negro for?" asked Leyden, taking a puff of his cigar.
The men regarded him suspiciously. "What we allers want niggers for," snarled the leader half defiantly.
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