While Scaggs was discussing his plans with Colonel Trabue, the Colonel was patiently awaiting the return of his son, John Trabue, a lad of thirteen, who had been sent to one of the neighbors to borrow some flour and seed beans. The boy was accompanied by a small dog, and, in the midst of the discussion, the dog walked into the yard badly wounded. [12E] An investigation was immediately made. The neighbor reported that the boy had left the house a few hours before with the flour and beans. All efforts made that night to find him were futile. They began to suspect that he might have been kidnapped by the Harpes. The search continued for many days, but all in vain. Evidence of the Harpes was discovered by George Spears and five other men about fifteen miles southwest of the Trabue farm, near the East Fork of Barren River, where the outlaws had killed a calf and made moccasins out of the skin, leaving their old moccasins behind. The footprints indicated the presence of two men, but there were no signs to show that a boy was with them. 
“There has been a second attempt, then?”
“In the infant town of Knox the houses are irregular and interspersed. It was County Court day when I came. The town was confused with a promiscuous throng of every denomination. Some talked, some sang, and mostly all did profanely swear. I stood aghast, my soul shrank back to hear the horrid oaths
About an hour before daybreak one morning, being on sentry, I was alarmed by the tramping of horses and the stir of men advancing towards my post. I challenged, and was answered by Lieutenant-General MacDonnell, whose voice I knew, and he knowing mine, called out:
The Mistress stared after him, dumbfounded; his howls and the jarring slam of the house door echoing direfully in her ears. It was the Master who ended the instant’s hush of amaze.
"Well, well," he said, "I don't wish to discuss my family with you. My purpose is more selfish than that. I only want you not to misjudge me, as you might very reasonably do, in the circumstances. Downstairs, no doubt, I may sometimes appear in the light of an autocrat." And he lifted his head with a little jerk that wonderfully expressed his own awareness of the absurdity of that accusation.
"Good-evening, aunty," replied Mrs. Hereford, having learned that much of Southern etiquette. "Won't you walk in and rest yourself?"
General Klapka could only grind his teeth and mutter, "Communicating with a state prisoner."
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