About that time, the men rode up to the house From the other way. Their horses were rough and wild. There were a dozen of them and they came fast. Bent should have been out in the woods but he had come down To mend a split wagon-wheel. He was caught in the barn. They couldn’t warn him in time, though John Vilas tried, But they held John Vilas and started to search the place While the younger children scuttled around like mice Squeaking “It’s drafters, Mom⁠—it’s the drafters again!” Even then, if Bent had hidden under the hay They might not have found him, being much pressed for time, But perhaps he was tired of hiding. At any rate When Melora reached the edge of the little clearing, She saw them there and Bent there, up on a horse, Her mother rigid as wood and her father dumb And the head man saying, gently enough on the whole, “Don’t you worry, m’am⁠—he’ll make a good soldier yet If he acts proper.” That was how they got Bent.