Colonel Kenton glanced at him, and noticed at once his change of
costume.
"What does that clothing mean, Harry?" he asked. "It's jeans, and it
doesn't fit."
"I know it's jeans, and I know it doesn't fit, but I was mighty glad to
get it, as everything else I had on was soaked with water."
Colonel Kenton raised his eyebrows.
"I was hunting the bottom of the Kentucky River," continued Harry.
"Fall in?"
"No, thrown in."
Colonel Kenton raised his eyebrows higher than ever.
Harry sat down and told him the whole story, Colonel Kenton listening
intently and rarely interrupting.
"It was great good fortune that the men on the raft came just at the
right time," he said, when Harry had finished. "There are bad
mountaineers and good mountaineers--Jarvis and his nephew represent one
type and Skelly the other. Skelly hates us because we drove back his
band when they attacked our house. In peaceful times we could have him
hunted out and punished, but we cannot follow him into his mountains
now. We shall be compelled to let this pass for the present, but as
your life would not be safe here you must leave Frankfort, Harry."
"I can't go back to Pendleton," said the boy, "and stay there, doing
nothing.
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