He
wore a black coat and hat, and uncle wore a white palmleaf hat, and
had with him, in case of rain, an old-fashioned, light gray overcoat.
These father put on, and throwing a white cloth over his horse, rode
away, telling us that he would not be at home that night, and that we
need not look for him until we saw him. Day after day those men
followed him, like hounds after a wolf. Through the day he rode here
and there, spending the night with first one neighbor, then another.
One day, when uncle was working at his cabin, some South Carolinians
rode up, and not seeing father, they searched the woods and ravine
near by, and rode away. Father spent one night with Mr. Duncan, and
had just gone out of sight in the morning, when the South. Carolinians
rode up.
"Does Pardee Butler ride a bay horse?" they asked.
"No, sir," replied Mr. Duncan.
"We saw a man ride into the woods just now," said they, "that looked
like Pardee Butler, but he was riding a bay horse."
"Pardee Butler never rides a bay horse.
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