第41章 CHAPTER VIII THE FIGHT FOR A STATE(3)
He rose early the next morning, before his father in fact, as he was eager to see more of Frankfort, ate a solid breakfast almost alone, and went into the streets, where the first person he met was his own cousin and schoolmate, Dick Mason. The two boys started, looked first at each other with hostile glances, which changed the next instant to looks of pleasure and welcome, and then shook hands with power and heartiness. They could not be enemies. They were boys together again.
"Why, Dick," exclaimed Harry, "I thought you had gone east to save the Union.""So I have," replied Dick Mason, "but not as far east as you thought.
We've got a big camp down in Garrard County, where the forces of the Kentuckians who favor the Union are gathering. General Nelson commands us. I suppose you've heard that you rebels are gathering on the other side of Frankfort in Owen County under Humphrey Marshall?""Yes, Yank, I've heard it," replied Harry. "Now, what are you doing in Frankfort? What business have you got here?""Since you ask me a plain question I'll give you a plain answer,"replied Dick. "I'm here to scotch you rebels. You don't think you can run away with a state like this, do you?""I don't know yet," replied Harry, "but we're going to try. Say, Dick, let's not talk about such things any more for a while. I want to see this town and we can take a look at it together.""The plan suits me," said Dick promptly. "Come on. I've been here two days and I guess I can be guide.""We'll take in the Capitol first," said Harry.
Dick led the way and Harry approached with awe and some curiosity the old building which was famous to him. Erected far back, when the state was in its infancy, it still served well its purpose. He and Dick walked together upon the lawns among the trees, but, as soon as the doors were open, they went inside and entered with respect the room in which the great men of their state, the Clays, the Marshalls, the Breckinridges, the Crittendens, the Hardins, and so many others had begun their careers. They were great men not to Kentucky alone, but to the nation as well, and the hearts of the two boys throbbed with pride.
They sat down in two of the desks where the members were to meet the next day and fight over the question whether Kentucky was Northern or Southern.
It was very early. Besides themselves there was nobody about but the caretaker. They were sitting in the House and the room was still warmed in winter by great stoves, but they were not needed now, as the windows were open and the fresh breeze of a grass-scented May morning blew in and tumbled the hair of the two youths of the same blood who sat side by side, close friends of their school days again, but who would soon be facing each other across red fields.
The wind which blew so pleasantly on Harry's forehead reminded him of that other wind which had blown so often upon his face at Charleston.
But it was not heavy and languorous here. It did not have the lazy perfumes of the breezes that floated up from the warm shores of the Gulf. It was sharp and penetrating. It whipped the blood like the touch of frost. It stirred to action. His cousin's emotions were evidently much like his own.
"Harry," said Dick, "I never thought that Kentucky would be fighting against Kentucky, that Pendleton would be fighting against Pendleton."Harry was about to reply when his attention was attracted by a heavy footstep. A third person had entered the chamber of the House, and he stood for a while in the aisle, looking curiously about him. Harry saw the man before the stranger saw him and with an instinctive shudder he recognized Bill Skelly. There he stood, huge, black, hairy, and lowering, two heavy pistols shown openly in his belt.
The boys were sitting low in the desks and it was a little while before Skelly noticed them. His attitude was that of triumph, that of one who expects great spoils, like that of a buccaneer who finds his profit in troubled times, preying upon friend and foe alike. Presently he caught sight of the two boys. But his gaze fastened on Harry, and a savage glint appeared in his eyes. Then he strode down the wide aisle and stood near them. But he looked at Harry alone.
"You are Colonel Kenton's son?" he said.
"I am," replied Harry, meeting his fierce stare boldly, "the same whom you tried to murder on the way to Winton, the same who helped to hold our house against you and your gang of assassins."Skelly's dark face grew darker as the black blood leaped to his very eyes. But he choked down his passion. The mountaineer was not lacking in cunning.
"Your father and his friends killed some of my men," he said. "I ain't here now to argy with you about the rights an' wrongs of it, but I want to tell you that all the people of the mountains are up for the Union.
With them from the lowlands that are the same way, we'll chase you rebels, Jeff Davis and all, clean into the Gulf of Mexico."Harry deliberately turned his head away, and stared out of a window at the green of lawns and trees. Skelly filled him with abhorrence.
He felt as if he were in the presence of a creeping panther, and he would have nothing more to say to him. Skelly looked at him for a few minutes longer, drew himself together in the manner of a savage wild beast about to spring, but relaxed the next moment, laughed softly, and strode out of the chamber.
"That's one of your men," said Harry. "I hope you're proud of him.""All the mountain people are for us," replied Dick judicially, "and we can't help it if some of the rascals are on our side. You're likely to have men just as bad on yours. I heard about the attack he made upon Uncle George's house, but it was war, I suppose, and this which we have here in Frankfort is only an armed truce. You can't do anything.""I suppose not. Do you know how long he has been here?""He arrived at Camp Dick Robinson only two or three days ago, and Isuppose he has taken the first chance to come in and have a look at the capital.""With the idea of looting it later on."
Dick laughed.