"Mebbe you're a sojer
yourself?"
"I've been in the mountains, looking after some land that belongs to my
family," said Dick. "My name is Mason, Richard Mason, and I live near
Pendleton, which is something like a hundred miles from here."
He deemed it best to give his right name, as it would have no
significance there.
"You must have seen armies," persisted the man, "or you wouldn't hev
knowed 'bout so many boys of fifteen or sixteen bein' in them."
"I saw both the Federal and Confederate armies in Eastern Kentucky.
My business took me near them, but I was always glad to get away from
them, too."
"I heard tell today that there was a big battle."
"You heard right. It was fought near a little place called Mill Spring,
and resulted in a complete victory for the Northern forces under General
Thomas."
"That was what I heard. It will be good news to some, an' bad news to
others. 'Pears to me, Mr. Mason, that you can't fight a battle that
will suit everybody."
"I never heard of one that did."
"An' never will, I reckon. Mighty good hoss that you're ridin'.
I never seed one with better shoulders. My name's Leffingwell, Seth
Leffingwell, an' I live here alone, 'ceptin' my old woman, Mandy.
All we ask of people is to let us be. Lots of us in the mountain feel
that way. Let them lowlanders shoot one another up ez long ez they
please, but up here there ain't no slaves, an' there ain't nothin' else
to fight about.
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