He'd been up to Louisville where the Southern leaders had a meetin', but couldn't make things go as they wanted 'em to go, an' so he come back to Pendleton.

People are tellin' that he's goin' to Frankfort soon." Harry thanked him, threw his saddle bags across the horse, a powerful bay, and, giving a final wave of his hand to the sympathetic liveryman, rode away.

He had little fear.

He carried a pair of heavy double-barreled pistols in holsters, and a smaller weapon in his pocket.
The horse, as he soon saw, was of uncommon power and spirit and he snapped his fingers at Skelly and his gang.
He rode first at a long, easy walk, knowing too well to push hard at the beginning, and the afternoon passed without anything worthy of his notice save the loneliness of the road.

In the two hours before sundown he met less than half a dozen persons.