" And so they went the other
way. Father rode a spirited young "copper-bottom" horse, named Copper,
that looked either bay or gray at a distance, as the light happened to
shine.
One day, father went to the post-office after his mail, and two young
neighbors riding up, and seeing his horse hitched there, thought to
have some fun. With loud shouts they galloped up, and hearing them, he
stepped to the door, sprang on his horse, and dashed off over the
hill, with them after him. But when they reached the top of the hill
they found that he was standing on the ground behind his horse, with
his pistol levelled at them across his saddle. They were glad to make
themselves known, and own up to the joke.
Father slipped home a few minutes almost every day, to let us know
that he was yet alive, and to see if we were safe. Every night we
fastened up the house, expecting that before morning the Ruffians
would try to burst in to search for father. Those were days of
terrible anxiety for mother, for she thought every time father rode
away that it was probably their last parting.
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