Was that fine, manly
face the visage of one of the terrible, bloodthirsty, unscrupulous
Yankees? Even as she ran to Aun' Jinkey's cottage for help the
thought crossed her mind that the world was not what it had been
represented to her, and that she must learn to think and act for
herself.
As she approached, Chunk, Aun' Jinkey's grandson, appeared coming
from the mansion house. He was nicknamed "Chunk" from his dwarfed
stature and his stout, powerful build. Miss Lou put her finger to
her lips, glanced hastily around, and led the way into the cabin.
She hushed their startled exclamations as she told her story, and
then said, "Aun' Jinkey, if he's alive, you must hide him in your
loft there where Chunk sleeps. Come with me."
In a few moments all three were beside the unconscious form. Chunk
instantly slipped his hand inside the soldier's vest over his heart.
"Hit done beats," he said, quickly, and without further hesitation
he lifted the man as if he had been a child, bore him safely to the
cabin, and laid him on Aun' Jinkey's bed.
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