"Of course you can't
do it! You never saw or heard of me before."
"Mebbe no," replied Jarvis, with calm confidence, "but all the same
your name is Dick Mason, and you come from a town in Kentucky called
Pendleton. You've been serving with the Yanks in the East, an' you've a
cousin, named Harry Kenton, who's been servin' there also, but with the
Johnnies. Now, am I a good guesser or am I just a plum' ignorant fool?"
Dick stared at him in deepening amazement.
"You do more than guess," he replied. "You know. Everything that you
said is true."
"Tell me this," said Jarvis. "Was that cousin of yours, Harry Kenton,
killed in the big battle at Bull Run? I've been tremenjeously anxious
about him ever since I heard of that terrible fight."
"He was not. I have not seen him since, but I have definite news now
that he passed safely through the battle."
Sam Jarvis and his nephew Ike breathed deep sighs of relief.
"I'm mighty glad to hear it," said Jarvis, "I shorely liked that boy,
Harry, an' I think I'll like you about as well. It don't matter to me
that you're on different sides, bein' as I ain't on any side at all
myself, nor is this lunkhead, Ike, my nephew."
"How on earth did you know me?"
"'Light, an' come into the house an' I'll tell you. You an' your
pardners look cold an' hungry. There ain't danger of anybody taking
your hosses, 'cause you can hitch 'em right at the front door. Besides,
I've got an old grandmother in the house, who'd like mighty well to see
you, Mr.
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