# The Rider of the Black Horse/Chapter 18
### CHAPTER XVIII A COMPANION ON THE JOURNEY

In a secluded spot near the road the horses of Joseph Nott and his companion were found, and after a careful inspection, when it was seen that no apparent danger was near, preparations were at once made to depart.
"Where is Hannah, I mean your mother?" inquired Robert.
"Oh, they 're all right," responded Joseph.
"All right? Why, your home was burned and"—
"Yes, I know that."
"But"—
"Oh, come along! I 'll tell you about it when we 're started."
"Are you going my way?" inquired Robert in surprise.
"Just a little. I don't think I shall go on beyond Morristown, but one never can tell about such things."
"To Morristown!" exclaimed Robert, completely mystified.
"That's what I said, was n't it?" laughed Joseph.
​"I don't see"—
"Well, it is n't necessary that you should. It 'll be lighter pretty quick, anyway." Then turning to his companion, who had seldom spoken since the meeting, Joseph said a few words to him, but they were spoken in so low a tone that Robert was not able to hear what was said. The man, however, at once mounted his horse and started swiftly back over the road by which Robert had come, and in a brief time could no longer be seen.
Turning to Robert, Joseph then said, "Come on. We 'll not go so fast that I can't talk to you on the way. Yes, I'm going to Morristown. General Clinton had me start not long after you left. Probably he had some word that came after you went, but I don't know about that. Some one else may be on his way behind us, and we don't want to let him catch up with us the way I did with you."
"But I thought you went with your father and the boys to look after Hannah and your mother."
"I did."
"How did you happen to be back in the fort, then?"
"It did n't take long to look after my mo​ther and Hannah. They can almost look after themselves without any help from us."
"But the house is burned."
"Yes, it was on fire when we got there. We found mother and Hannah fighting it, but it did n't do any good. It was too late. Claud Brown and his gang had been there and gone. It would have done you good to hear mother tell how Hannah threw a bucket of water on the place where Claud himself started the fire and how he turned on her."
"He did?" exclaimed Robert angrily.
"Oh, yes, but the first he knew she let him have another bucket right in the face. It's a pity that girl is a girl. If she was only a man she'd be worth any dozen men in the whole army. She is n't afraid of anybody: and yet, let me tell you, Robert Dorlon, she is the best girl you can find the length of the Hudson River."
"Yes, I think so," responded Robert quietly. "She certainly helped me out of a bad affair. Where is she now?"
"She and my mother have gone back in the country to my aunt's. They 'll stay there for a while. My father is going to try to get hold of Claud Brown."
"He can't leave the fort."
​"He won't have to. There are other ways of doing it; but if the men who have been robbed and whose houses have been set on fire by that villain, once lay their hands on him, I would n't give much for his life."
"You seem to take the burning of your home as if it did n't amount to anything."
"Oh, I do, do I?" Joseph, as he spoke, turned sharply to his companion and his voice was harsh and hard, but only for the moment, for quickly he laughed lightly and then said: "We expected when we went into this affair that it would not fill our pockets. We 've lost everything except the dirt of our farm, and the only reason why we have n't lost that is because the Tories or the cowboys could n't steal it or burn it. I don't mind the redcoats so much as I do the Dutch butchers, and I can stand them better than I can the Tories, and the Tories are saints in glory compared with the cowboys. If my father and mother did n't whimper when the house was burned, I don't think I 've very much call to do it, do you?" he added with a laugh.
"No," replied Robert thoughtfully. "Did you know there was a man, who acted as if he had been hit on the head, in those lilac bushes out behind your house?"
​"When?" demanded Joseph, bringing his horse sharply to a standstill.
"Yesterday." And Robert related the story of his own discovery of the man and of the letter which he had found upon him and also how it had been forwarded by Jacob Gunning, who had sent his own daughter with it as the messenger. His own experiences in the tavern were recounted too, and so deeply interested was his companion that not once did he interrupt him till all had been related, even to the way in which he had escaped with the two additional horses which now were with them.
"I wonder if you could n't take my letter to General Washington?' said Joseph abruptly, when all had been told.
"Yes, but what would you do?"
"Go back. There's going to be something going on there, and I'd like to be on hand when it begins. It isn't necessary for both of us to go on. I don't believe that General Clinton would care."
"What was it he told you?"
"He told me to put the letter into the general's hands and not to let any one else even touch it."
"And yet you 're going to give it to me."
"No, I'm not," retorted Joseph, with a laugh ​that was as welcome as the morning sunshine that now was all about them. "I was only telling you what I'd like to do. But I 've no notion of doing it. I 've got to obey orders; and then, too, I don't want to tear myself away from such good company as I 've fallen in with."
Robert glanced at his companion for a moment and again noted the striking resemblance to Hannah. The same round face, bright blue eyes, light brown hair, and the evidence of abounding health and spirits were as apparent in Joseph as in his sister.
"I know what you 're thinking about," laughed Joseph.
"No, you don't," responded Robert, his dark face flushing slightly. "And I don't see what you are laughing about either," he added.
But Joseph laughed again, and then said, "I'm hungry enough to do what Nebuchadnezzar did, if we don't find some place where we can get something to eat pretty soon."
"There must be a place somewhere hereabouts."
"There is. There's one ahead yonder," said Joseph quickly, pointing as he spoke to a log house that could be seen in the distance. ​It was evidently occupied too, for a man could be seen in the yard with a yoke upon his shoulders, by means of which he was carrying some buckets to a barn on the opposite side of the road.
"Will it be safe?"
"You don't look as if you ought to be afraid," suggested Joseph, glancing at his stalwart companion for a moment.
Robert laughed as he replied: "I'm afraid for what I 've got on me as much or more than I am for myself. Do you know anything about this place or the man who lives there?"
"Not a thing."
"We 'll chance it anyway. I have a little money in my pocket. We can pay him for what we get."
"Lucky fellow," murmured Joseph, as they began to quicken the pace at which they were moving.
It became evident that the farmer had discovered their approach, for he had dropped the buckets upon the ground and had seated himself upon the "horse block" by the roadside, and it was plain that he was waiting for the coming of the two men.
"You do the talking," said Robert.
Will you do the fighting?"
​"I 'll do my share, but we shan't have any trouble. The old fellow is as mild and gentle as a dove."
Joseph made no response, and in a brief time the young soldiers drew rein on their horses as they halted in front of the man, who was seated on the section of a huge tree that served as a family horse block. He was an old man and his gray hair (he wore no hat) was thin, and one arm was apparently twisted and drawn out of shape. Evidently there was nothing to be feared from the man himself, but Joseph nevertheless was cautious, and after he had given the morning salutation he said, "We want some breakfast."
"Can't say that ye 're the first men I 've heard of in the same fix."
"Can we get some here? We 'll pay for it," Joseph added hastily.
"Pretty good horses ye 've got there," replied the man, apparently ignoring the question and glancing at the four horses as if he appreciated every one of their good points.
"Yes. We want them fed, too. Can you give them some oats?"
"Where might ye be goin'?"
"We 'might' be going in a good many ways, but the fact is that just now we don't ​want to go anywhere. We want to stay right here and get something to eat and something for our horses."
"Jes' so. So I heard ye remark." The man had not moved from the horse block, nor had he apparently turned his eyes away from the inspection of the animals. "Perhaps ye might want to be sellin' one o 'em?" he suggested.
"They 're not ours," replied Joseph.
"Ye don't say so. 'T is n't considered safe for ev'rybody to be seen ridin' 'long th' road 's early's this in the mornin' with horses that don't b'long to 'em."
"We 're not afraid. We 're just hungry," laughed Joseph. "You need n't be afraid of feeding horse thieves either, for we 're not quite in that class, and will pay you for every mouthful you give us."
"Want to put 'em in the barn?" inquired the man, rising for the first time from his seat on the horse block.
"No, I don't think so," spoke up Robert. There was something in the actions of the man that made him uneasy, though he could not explain what it was even to himself.
"Better put 'em in," persisted the man.
"All right. Put them in the barn. I'm the spokesman of the party," said Joseph. ​"You show us where to take them and we 'll look after them ourselves; and you can go into the house and get some breakfast for us. Your women will want to have a word, I take it."
"There are n't any women here."
"You live here alone?" demanded Joseph, in surprise.
"All alone."
Joseph was prompted to make some further inquiries, but he did not continue his questioning. "Show us where your oats are and then my friend will look after the horses; and I 'll go back to the house with you and help you get something for us to eat," he said. "If you 're the only one on this place, you 'll want some help if you 're going to get enough to satisfy two such hungry fellows as we are."
"I 've got some eggs."
"Good!"
"And some bacon."
"Better still!"
"An' I s'pose I can cook ye something or other besides."
"Don't tell us any more. I can't stand it," laughed Joseph. "Show us about feeding the horses, and then I 'll help you with the breakfast."
​The farmer delayed no longer, and as soon as the horses were led into the barn and the oat bins had been pointed out, Joseph left Robert to guard the horses while he himself returned with the man to the house. It was strange, he thought, that there should be such an abundance of oats and yet no horses in the barn, except those which he himself and his friend had brought; but he did not refer to the question in his mind, and in a surprisingly brief time the promised breakfast was ready. Robert had been summoned from the barn, and both young men were soon doing ample justice to the viands which were placed on the rude table. The man watched them with evident interest and apparently no unfriendly feeling, but he seldom spoke. At last when the breakfast had been eaten and the boys were ready to rise from the bench on which they had been seated, the man said,—
"Ye 've got one horse there I 've seen before."
"I guess not," replied Joseph laughingly, and yet glancing keenly at the man.
"He looks just the same as when Josh was ridin' him, an' Josh is lookin' for him now. He an' another man were here about half an hour before you two came."