"Good-night, Johnny; and many thanks for that grub and this warm blanket," said one of the escaped prisoners who had not spoken before.
"Good-night, Yank, and welcome," replied Ned. "But I am not a Johnny."
"And neither am I a Yank," said the soldier. "I came from Michigan. But good-night."
After that silence reigned in that dark, lonesome camp for the space of half an hour. The soldiers were weary and sank into a deep slumber almost as soon as they had adjusted their blankets to suit them; but Tom Randolph was wide awake. He curbed his impatience until the heavy breathing of his captors told him that they were in a state of unconsciousness, and then said cautiously:
"No. What do I want of a gun?" was the answer.
"Wrapped up in the blankets with the soldiers, most likely."
"Well, say, Ned; look here," whispered Tom coaxingly.
"It's no use, for I can't do it," replied Ned, who knew what the captive was about to say. "You don't show your usual good sense in asking it of me, either."
"But you could drop asleep, couldn't you, and let me crawl away?"
"I could, but I won't. I'm not going to get myself into a scrape by going back on these Yanks. They'd shoot me."
"But you might go with me," suggested Tom, who was almost ready to shed tears again.
"And leave Mr. Gray's property to be destroyed?" demanded Ned. "I said I'd keep guard, and I've got to do it."
"Well, you have been weighed and found wanting," said Tom desperately. "I know just what you are now, but I was foolish enough to think you were a friend of mine."
"You didn't think anything of the sort. You knew better," said Ned; and after that he relapsed into silence. He had proved that he was ready to assist Tom in any way he could, but he wasn't going to arouse Ben's rage and the corporal's by permitting him to steal away in the darkness. It was the most senseless proposition he had ever heard of, and he was glad that Tom did not trouble him with it again. The latter lay so quiet that his guard thought he was asleep, but he wasn't. He was trying to think up some way to get even with Ned.
Although the overseer was not at all drowsy, the exciting events of the last few hours having banished slumber, he passed a dreary night on his log, leaning against a tree, and listening for the first far-off baying of the hounds, which would announce that the pursuit had been renewed. But the hours dragged themselves away without disturbance of any kind, and at daylight the corporal threw off his blanket and sat up. He felt like a new man after his refreshing sleep, and that was what all his comrades said when they were aroused. Then a short consultation was held, and Ned posted off to the house with the empty basket. It was full of eatables when he returned an hour later, to learn that during his absence the fugitives had decided that Tom Randolph's story was more worthy of belief than his own.