The boy dropped the reins, raised his hands over his head and walked into the hut, where the rain at least did not reach him.

It was a rude place of a single room, with a fire-place at one end, a bed in a corner, a small pine table on which a candle burned, and clothing and dried herbs hanging from hooks on the wall.

The man wore only a shirt and trousers, and he looked unkempt and wild, but he was a resolute figure.
"Stand over thar, close to the light, whar I kin see you," he said.
Harry moved over, and the muzzle of the rifle followed him.

The man could look down the sights of his rifle and at the same time examine his visitor, which he did with thoroughness.
"Now, then, Johnny Reb," he said, "what are you doin' here this time o' night an' in such weather as this, wakin' honest citizens out o' their beds ?" "Nothing but stand before the muzzle of your rifle." The man grinned.

The answer seemed to appeal to him, and he lowered the weapon, although he did not relax his watchfulness.
"I got the drop on you, Johnny Reb; you're boun' to admit that," he said.