some one thinks you had best be out of the road when they come."

"Who is some one?" I asked.

"Just some one," he answered. "Some one who gets more money than I
get." His mouth drew into a hard and cruel line; he lapsed into his
day-dream, still chewing his plug of tobacco. "Some one," he added,
"who don't like questions, and don't like to be talked about too
much."

He was silent for a minute or two, while Hugh and I looked at each
other.

"Oh, I'm not going to keep you long," said the man. "Them redcoats'll
have done asking questions about here before your dinner time. Then
they'll ride on, and a good riddance. Your lady will know how to
answer them all right. But till they're gone, why, here you'll
stay. So let's be comp'ny. What's your name, young master?" He gave
Hugh a dig in the ribs with his boot.

"Hugh," he answered.

"Hugh," said the man: "Hugh! You won't never come to much, you
won't. What's _your_ name?" He nudged me in the same way.

"Jim," I said.

"Ah! Jim, Jim," he repeated. "I've known a many Jims. Some were good
in their way, too." He seemed to shrink into himself suddenly--I can't
explain it--but he seemed to shrink, like a cat crouched to spring,