Going to the cupboard, she hastily heaped a plate with food,
and, taking a dipper of water from a pail near by, she entered her
bedroom hastily and placed what she had brought on a small table, as her
visitor rose slowly from the bed.
He was about to speak, but she made a protesting gesture.
"I can't tell you anything yet," she said. "Who was it come?" he asked.
"My uncle--I'm going to tell him."
"The men after me may git here any minute," he urged anxiously.
"They'd not be coming into my room," she answered, flushing slightly.
"Can't you hide me down by the river till we start?" he asked, his eyes
eagerly searching her face. He was assuming that she would take him down
the river: but she gave no sign.
"I've got to see if he'll take you first," she answered.
"He--your uncle, Tom Sanger? He drinks, I've heard. He'd never git to
Bindon."
She did not reply directly to his words. "I'll come back and tell you.
There's a place you could hide by the river where no one could ever find
you," she said, and left the room.
As she stepped out, she saw the old man standing in the doorway of the
other room.
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