"
"Now, what does this mean?" said Coltrane to himself, as he
compared his companion's sane looks and quiet demeanour with his
strange request. But he was already unbuttoning the coat, assenting
readily, as if the fancy were in no wise to be considered strange.
The coat and hat fitted Goree well. He buttoned the former about him
with a look of satisfaction and dignity. He and Coltrane were nearly
the same size--rather tall, portly, and erect. Twenty-five years
were between them, but in appearance they might have been brothers.
Goree looked older than his age; his face was puffy and lined; the
colonel had the smooth, fresh complexion of a temperate liver. He put
on Goree's disreputable old flax coat and faded slouch hat.
"Now," said Goree, taking up the reins, "I'm all right. I want you to
ride about ten feet in the rear as we go by, Colonel, so that they can
get a good look at me. They'll see I'm no back number yet, by any
means. I guess I'll show up pretty well to them once more, anyhow.
Let's ride on."
He set out up the hill at a smart trot, the colonel following, as he
had been requested.
Goree sat straight in the saddle, with head erect, but his eyes were
turned to the right, sharply scanning every shrub and fence and
hiding-place in the old homestead yard.
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