Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text
for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered
during its preparation.
The cover image has been repaired to reproduce the first letters
of the title, occluded by a library label, and, so modified, is
added to the public domain.
Replacing the notice.
A
Rebellion in Dixie
BY
HARRY CASTLEMON
AUTHOR OF “THE GUNBOAT SERIES,” “THE HUNTER SERIES,”
“Now, Leon, you will take in everybody.
Don’t leave a single man out, for we
want them all there at this convention.”
“Secessionists, as well as Union men?”
“Yes, of course. I had a talk with Nathan
Knight, last night, and he says everybody
must be informed of the fact. We are going
to secede from the State of Mississippi and
get up a government of our own, and he declares
that everybody must be told of it.”
“I tell you, dad, we’ve got a mighty poor
show. I suppose there are at least two thousand
fighting men here—”
“Say fifteen hundred; and they are all
good shots, too.”
“And Jeff Davis has called out a hundred
6thousand men. Where would we be if he
would send that number of men after us?”
“He ain’t a-going to send no hundred thousand
men after us. He has other work for
them to do, and when the few he does send
come here in search of us, he won’t find hide
nor hair of a living man in the county.”
It was Mr. Sprague who spoke last, and his
words were addressed to his son Leon. They,
both of them, stood leaning on their horses,
and were equipped for long rides in opposite
directions. Just inside the gate was a woman
leaning upon it; but, although she was a
Southerner, she did not shed tears when she
saw Leon and his father about to start on
their perilous ride. For she knew that every
step of the way would be harassed by danger,
and if she saw either one of them after she
bade them good-bye it would all be owing to
fortunate manœuvres on their part rather than
to any mismanagement on the part of the
rebels. They were both known as strong
Union men, and no doubt there were some of
their neighbors who were determined that
they should not fulfil their errand. It would
7be an easy matter to shoot them down and
throw their bodies into the swamp, and no
one would be the wiser for it.
Leon Sprague was sixteen years old, and
had been a raftsman all his life. He had but
little education but much common sense, for
schools were something that did not hold a
high place in Jones county. In fact there
had been but one school in the county since
he could remember, and some of the boys took
charge of that, and conducted themselves in a
manner that drove the teacher away. Leon
was a fine specimen of a boy, as he stood there
listening to his father’s instructions—tall beyondbeyond
his years, and straight as one of the
numerous pines that he had so often felled
and rafted to Pascagoula bay. His countenance
was frank and open—no one ever
thought of doubting Leon’s word—but just
now there was a scowl upon it as he listened
to what his father had to say to him.
These people, the Spragues, were a little
better off than most of those who followed
their occupation, owning a nice little farm,
four negroes, and a patch of timber-land from
8which they cut their logs and rafted them
down to tide-water to furnish the masts for
ocean-going vessels. His father and mother
were simple-minded folks who thought they
had everything that was worth living for, and
they did not want to see the Government
broken up on any pretext. The negro men
worked the farm and their wives were busy
in the house, which they kept as neat as a
new pin. Just now the men had been butchering
hogs in the woods, and were at work
making hams and bacon of them. These negroes
did not have an overseer—they did not
know what it was. They went about their
work bright and early, and when Saturday
afternoon came they posted off to the nearest
village to enjoy their half-holiday. They
loved their master and mistress, and if anybody
had offered them their freedom they
would not have taken it.
In order that you may understand this
story, boy reader, it is necessary that you
should know something of the character of
the inhabitants, and be able to bear in mind
the nature of the country in which this Rebellion
9in Dixie took place, for it was as much
of a rebellion as that in Georgia, Tennessee,
North Carolina and Missouri, where men were
shot and hanged for not believing as their
neighbors did, and their houses were set on
fire. They made up their minds at the start—as
early as 1862—that they would not furnish
any men for the Southern army; and,
furthermore, they took good care to see that
there was no drafting done in their county.
If you will take your atlas and turn to the
map of Mississippi you will find Jones county
in the southeastern part of the State, and
about seventy-five miles north of Mobile, a
port that was one of the last to be captured
by the United States army. It comprised
nearly twenty townships, the white population
being 1482, a small chance, one would think,
for people to live as they did for almost two
years. The land was not fertile, “the entire
region being made up of pine barrens and
swamps, traversed by winding creeks, bordered
by almost impenetrable thickets.” It was
bounded on four sides by Jasper, Wayne,
Perry and Covington counties, which were all
10loyal to the Confederacy, and it would seem
that the people had undertaken an immense
job to carry on a rebellion here in the face
of such surroundings. The inhabitants were,
almost to a man, opposed to the war. They
were lumbermen, who earned a precarious living
by cutting the pine trees and rafting them
to tide-water, which at that time was found on
Pascagoula bay. They had everything that
lumbermen could ask for, and they did not
think that any effort to cut themselves loose
from the North would result in any glory to
them. They could not get any more for their
timber than they were getting now, and why
should they consent to go into the army and
fight for principles that they knew nothing
about?
Of course, this county was divided against
itself, as every other county was that laid
claim to some Union and some Confederate
inhabitants. There were men among them
who had their all invested there, and they did
not think these earnest people were pursuing
the right course. These were the secessionists,
but they were very careful about what
11they said, although they afterward found opportunities
to put their ideas into practice.
When General Lowery was sent with a strong
force to crush out this rebellion he was met
by a stubborn resistance, and some of these
Confederates, who were seen and recognized
by their Union neighbors, were afterward
shot to pay them for the part they had carried
out in conducting the enemy to their place of
retreat. Taken altogether, it was such a thing
as nobody had ever heard of before, but the
way these lumbermen went about it proclaimed
what manner of men they were. It seemed
as if the Confederacy could run enough men
in there to wipe out the Jones County Republic
before they could have time to organize
their army; but for all that the inhabitants
were determined to go through with it. They
held many a long talk with one another when
they met on the road or in convention at Ellisville,
and there wasn’t a man who was in
favor of joining the Confederacy, the secessionists
wisely keeping out of sight.
Things went on in this way for a year or
more, during which the lumbermen talked
12amazingly, but did nothing. Finally Fort
Sumter was fired upon, and afterward came
the disastrous battle of Bull Run, and then
the Confederates began to gain a little courage.
They knew the South was going to
whip, and these battles confirmed them in the
belief; but the raftsmen did not believe it.
In 1862, when the Confederate Congress
passed the act of conscription, which compelled
those liable to do military duty to serve
in the army, the lumbermen grew in earnest,
and a few of them got together in Ellisville
and talked the matter over. The market for
their logs had long ago been broken up, and
some of them were beginning to feel the need
of something to eat; and when one of their
number proposed, more as a joke than anything
else, that they should cast their fortunes
with the Confederates, and so be able to go
down to tide-water and get some provisions,
the motion was hooted down in short order.
There were not enough people there to hold a
convention, and so the matter was postponed,
some of the wealthy ones who owned horses
being selected to ride about the county and
13inform every one that the matter had gone far
enough—that they were going to hold a meeting
and see what the lumbermen thought of
taking the county out of the State of Mississippi.
Leon and his father were two of those
chosen, and they were just getting ready to
start on their journey.
“I don’t know as I ought to send that boy
out at all, Mary,” said Mr. Sprague, when he
arrived at home that night after the convention
had been decided upon. “I have never
seen Leon in trouble and I don’t know how
he will act; but the boys down to Ellisville
seemed determined to let him go, and I never
said a word about it.”
“I think you have seen Leon in trouble a
half a dozen times,” said his wife, who was
prompt to side with her son. “The time that
Tom Howe came so near being smashed up
with those logs down there in the bend—I
guess he was in trouble then, wasn’t he?”
“But that was with logs; it wasn’t with
men,” said Mr. Sprague. “Yes, Leon was
pretty plucky that day, and when all the boys
cheered him I didn’t say a word, although I
14had an awkward feeling of pride around my
heart, I tell you.”
Leon and three or four other fellows of light
build were frequently called upon to start a
jam of logs which had filled up the stream so
full that the timber could not move. A hasty
glance at the jam would show them the
log that was to blame for it, and armed with
an ax and bare-footed the boys would leap
upon the raft and go out to it. A few hasty
blows would start the jam, and the timber
rushing by with the speed of a lightning express
train, the boys would make their way
back to the shore, jumping from one log to
another. Sometimes they did not get back
without a ducking. On the occasion referred
to Tom went out alone, and after he had been
there some minutes without starting the jam,
Leon was sent out to assist him. Two axes were
better than one, and in a few minutes the timber
was started. It came with a rush, too,
but Tom was just a moment too late. The log
upon which he had been chopping shot up
into the air fully twenty feet, and when it
came down it struck the log on which Tom
15was standing and soused him head over heels
in the water; but before he went he felt
somebody’s around him. It was Leon
Sprague’s arm, for the latter struck the water
almost as soon as he did. Leon came up a
moment afterward with Tom hanging limp
and lifeless in his arms, and heard the cheers
of the “boys” ringing in his ears, but had
to go down again to escape the onward rush
of the logs which were coming toward him
with almost railroad speed. By going down
in this way and swimming lustily whenever
the logs were far enough away to admit of it,
Leon succeeded in landing about half a mile
below, and hauling his senseless burden out
on the bank. Tom could swim—there were
few boys on the stream that could beat him at
that—but when that log came down on him
it well nigh knocked it all out. Leon’s father
never said a word. He walked up and gave
the boy’s hand a hearty shake, and that was
the last of it. Leon had the opportunity of
knowing, as soon as Tom came to himself,
that he had made a life-long friend by his last
half-hour’s operations.
16“Jeff Davis ain’t a going to send no hundred
thousand men after us,” repeated Mr.
Sprague, preparing to mount his horse. “He’ll
send a few in here to break up this rebellion,
and when they get here we’ll be in the woods
out of sight. Kiss your mother, Leon, and
let’s go. We have got a good ways to ride
before night.”
“Now, Leon, be careful of yourself,” said
his mother.
“You need have no fear of me,” said Leon,
leaving his horse and going up to the gate.
“I’ve got my revolver in my pocket all
handy.”
“But remember that when you are riding
along the road somebody can easily pick you
off,” said Mrs. Sprague. “You know you are
a Union boy.”
“Do you want me to make believe that I
am--Confederate?”
“By no means. Stick to the Union. Good-bye.”
The farewells being said, father and son got
upon their horses and rode away in opposite
directions. Leon rode a high-stepping horse—he
17was fond of a good animal and he owned
one of the very best in the county—but he
allowed him to wander at his own gait, knowing
that the horse would be tired enough
when he returned home. As he rode along,
thinking how foolish the people were to consider
seriously the proposal to withdraw from
the Union, he ran against a boy about his own
age who, like himself, was journeying on
horseback. He was a boy he did not like to
see. He was awfully “stuck up,” and, furthermore,
he was a rebel and did not hesitate
to have his opinions known.
“Hello, Leon,” exclaimed Carl Swayne, for
that was the boy’s name. “Where are you
going this morning?”
“I am going around to see every man in
this side of the county,” said Leon. “We are
going to get up a convention on the 13th, and
we want everybody there. The convention is
going to be held at Ellisville.”
“By George! Has it come to that?” cried
Carl, flourishing his riding-whip in the air.
“What do you think you are going to do
after you get to that convention?”
18“We are going to dissolve the Union existing
between this county and the State of
Mississippi.”
“Yes, I’ll bet you will. How long will it
be before the Confederates will send men in
here to whip you out? You must think you
can stand against them.”
“I don’t think we can stand against anybody,”
said Leon. “If the Confederates come
in here we shall go into the woods.”
“Well, it won’t take me long to show them
where you are,” said Carl, savagely. “I was
talking with uncle about it last night, and he
says you haven’t got but a few fighting men
here, and that it is utterly preposterous for
you to think of getting up a rebellion. I
know one thing about it: you will all be
hanged.”
“And I know another thing about it,” said
Leon. “When it comes we’ll be in good
company. Will you be down to our convention?”
“Not as anybody knows of,” replied Carl,
with a laugh. “I’ll get somebody up here to
put a stop to it.”
19“Well, I wouldn’t be too hasty about it.
You may get hanged yourself.”
“Yes? I’d like to see the man living that
can put a rope around my neck,” exclaimed
Carl, hotly. “I’ve got more friends in this
county than one would suppose. I’ll bet you
wouldn’t be one of the first to do it.”
Leon picked up his reins and went on without
answering this question. He saw that
Carl was in a fair way to pick a quarrel with
him, and he had no desire to keep up his end
of it. Carl was hot-headed, and when he got
mad, was apt to do and say some things that
any boy of his age ought to have been ashamed
of. He kept on down the road for a mile
further, and finally turned into a broad carriage-way
that led up to a neat little cottage
that was surrounded by shade trees on all
sides. This was the house of Mr. Smith—a
crusty old bachelor who had always taken a
deep interest in Leon. He was Union to the
backbone, and if he could have had his way
he would have made short work with all such
fellows as Carl Swayne. He was sitting out
on the porch indulging in a smoke.
20“Hallo, Leon,” he cried, as soon as he
found out who the new-comer was. “Alight
and hitch.”
“I can’t do it, Mr. Smith,” replied Leon.
“I am bound to see every man in this part of
the county, and that, you know, is a good long
ride. We are going to hold a convention on
the 13th, and we want you to come down to
it.”
“Whew!” whistled Mr. Smith. “You bet
I’ll be there. What are you going to do at
that convention?”
Leon explained briefly, adding:
“I just now saw a fellow whom I asked to
come down, and he positively declined. He
says he will get somebody to put a stop to it.”
“That’s Carl Swayne,” said Mr. Smith, in
a tone of disgust. “Say! I will give half my
fortune if we can hang that fellow and his
uncle to the nearest tree. They have been
preaching up secessionists’ doctrines here till
you can’t rest.”
“I think we can get the better of them
after a while,” said Leon. “When did you
get back?” he added, for Mr. Smith had been
21down to tide-water to see what was going on
there. “Did you see or hear anything in
Mobile?”
“I got back last night. There is nothing
in Mobile except fortifications. I tell you it
will require a big army to take that place.
By the way, Leon, I want to see you some
time all by yourself. Don’t let any one know
you are coming here, but just come.”
“I’ll remember it, Mr. Smith. You won’t
forget the convention? Good-by.”
“What in the world does the old fellow
want to see me for?” soliloquized Leon. “And
why couldn’t he have told me to-day as well
as any other time? Well, it can’t be much,
any way.”
Leon kept on his ride, and before night he
was many miles from home. He took in every
house he came to, Union as well as secessionist,
and while the former greeted him cordially,
the rebels had something to say to him
that fairly took his breath away. If he
hadn’t been the most even-tempered fellow in
the world he would have got fighting mad.
They all agreed as to one thing: They were
22going to see Leon hanged for carrying around
the notice of that convention. His neighbors
wouldn’t do it, but there would be plenty of
Confederates in there after a while that would
string the Union people up as fast as they
could get to them. Leon had no idea that
there were so many secessionists in the county
as he found there when he came to ride
through it, and he made up his mind to one
thing, and that was, it was going to be pretty
hard work to carry that county out of the
State.
“But just wait until we get together and
decide upon a constitution,” said Leon, as he
rode along with his hands in his pockets and
his eyes fastened upon the horn of his saddle.
“Jeff Davis has long ago ordered all Union
men out of the Confederacy, and what is there
to hinder us from ordering all these rebels
out? That’s an idea, and I will speak to
father about it.”
Leon did not care to spend all night with
such people as these, and so he kept on until
he found a family whose sentiments agreed
with his own, and there he laid by until
23morning. The head of this household had
but recently come into the county, and Leon
did not know him. When the latter rode up
to the bars the man was chopping wood in
front of a dilapidated shanty, but when he
saw Leon approaching he dropped his axe,
took long strides toward his door and turned
around and faced him. The boy certainly
thought he was acting in a very strange way,
and for a moment didn’t know whether he
was a Union man or a rebel.
“Good evening, sir,” said Leon, who thought
he might as well settle the matter once for all.
“Can I stay all night with you?”
“Who are you and where did you come
from?” asked the man in reply.
“My name is Leon Sprague and I live in
the other part of the county,” replied Leon.
“I am a Union boy all over, and I came out
to tell everybody—”
“Course we can keep you all night if that
is the kind of a boy you are,” replied the man
coming up to the bars. “Get off and turn your
horse loose. I haven’t seen a Union boy before
in a long while. I came from Tennessee.”
24“What are you doing down here?” asked
Leon, as he led his horse over the bars.
“I came down here to get out of reach of
the rebels, dog-gone ’em,” said the man in a
passionate tone of voice. “You had just
ought to see them up there. They have got
their jails full, they are hanging men for
burning bridges, and when I left home there
was two or three thousand men going over the
mountains into Kentucky. But I couldn’t go
with them. The rebels cut me off, and as I
was bound to go somewhere, I came on down
here.”
Leon had by this time taken the saddle and
bridle from his horse and turned him loose to
get his own supper. Then he backed up against
the fence and watched the man chopping his
wood.
CHAPTER II. THE CONVENTION.
25
“What made you start for the house when
you saw me coming up?” said Leon, as
the man sank his axe deep into the log on
which he was chopping and paused to moisten
his hands.
“Because I thought you was a rebel. I
reckoned there was more coming behind you,
and I wanted to be pretty close to my rifle. I
didn’t know that I had got into a community
of Union folks down here.”
Leon was astonished to hear the man converse.
He talked like an intelligent person,
and the boy was glad to have him express an
opinion, for it was so much better than his
own that he resolved to profit by it.
“I don’t know that you got in among
Union people,” said Leon, “for I have seen
more rebels to-day than I thought there was
26in the county; but all the same there are some
Union folks here. You might have gone further
and fared worse.”
“So I believe. When you came up you
said you were out to tell everybody something.
What were you going to say?”
It didn’t take Leon more than two minutes
to explain himself. The man listened with
genuine amazement, and when the boy got
through he seated himself on the log and
rested his elbows on his knees.
“How are you going to take this county
out?” said he. “You haven’t got men enough
to do any fighting.”
“No, sir; but we are going to do the best
we can with what we have got.”
“That’s plucky at any rate. I suppose
that if the rebels come in here to capture you,
you will take to the swamp.”
“Yes, sir. That’s just what we intend to
do.”
“Well, sir, you can put my name down for
that convention,” said the man, getting upon
his feet and going to work upon his wood-pile.
“I’ve got so down on the rebels that I am
27willing to do anything I can to bother them.
I’ve got two brothers in jail up there now.”
“You said something about bridge burning,”
said Leon, and he didn’t know whether
he made a mistake or not. “Perhaps you had
a hand in it.”
“Perhaps I did,” answered the man with a
laugh. “And I tell you I had to dig out as
soon as I got home. So you see I dare not
go back there.”
“What’s the punishment?”
“Death,” answered the man. “And they
don’t give you any time to say good-bye to
your friends. They don’t even court-martial
you, but string you up at once.”
The man said this in much the same tone
that he would have asked for a drink of water.
Leon was surprised that one who had passed
through so many dangers as that man had
could speak of it so indifferently. But then
he looked like a man who would have been
picked out of a crowd to engage in business of
that kind. He was large and bony, the ease
with which he handled his axe was surprising,
but his face was one to attract anybody’s
28attention. It was a determined face—a face
that wouldn’t back down for any obstacles.
If the Union men in Tennessee were all like
him, it was a wonder how the rebels got the
start of them.
“I can’t give you as good a place here as I
could at home,” said the man, as his wife
came to the door and told him that supper was
ready. “At home I have a commodious house,
and you could have a room in it all to yourself.
Here I have nothing but this little tumble-down
shanty to go into. It leaks, but I
will soon get the better of that. Molly, this
young man is Union all over, and he has come
down here to tell of a convention that is to
be held at Ellisville to take this county out of
the State. Whoever heard of such a thing?
I am going to that meeting, sure pop.”
His wife was greatly surprised to listen to
this, but she accepted the introduction to
Leon, and forthwith proceeded to make him
feel at home. There were two children, but
they had been taught to behave, and did not
try to shove themselves forward at all. Taken
altogether, it was a comfortable meal, and before
29it was over Leon learned some things regarding
this man that he wouldn’t have believed
possible. He had come all the way through
the rebel State of Mississippi by telling the
people he met on the way that he was going
to see some friends, and had, by chance, struck
Jones county, the very place of all others he
wanted to be.
“I must confess it was pretty pokerish,
sometimes,” said the man. “The rebels had
sent on a description of me as the man who
helped burn their bridges, and now and then
I had to get under the bundles of clothing
and cover myself up there, leaving my wife
to guide the horses. But I had my rifle all
right, and it would have gone hard with the
men who discovered me.”
The evening was passed in this way listening
to the man’s stories, and when Leon went
to bed in a dark corner of the room he told
himself that he had got into a desperate
scrape, and that he had got something to
do in order to get out of it. He had
never dreamed that men could be down
on their neighbors in that way, and here this
30man had all he could do to keep from being
shot.
“By George! I tell you we are in for it,”
said Leon, pulling the blankets up over him,
“and I don’t know how we are going to come
out. There are rebels all around us, and if
they are as bad down here as they are up in
Tennessee there won’t one of us come through
alive. But I am armed, and I’ll see that
some of them get as good as they send.”
It was daylight when Leon awoke, and after
washing his hands and face in a basin outside
the door he stood in front of the fireplace,
before which the woman was engaged
in cooking the breakfast, and looked up at the
man’s rifle, which hung on some wooden pegs
over the mantel. It was an ordinary muzzle-loading
thing, and didn’t look as though it
had been the death of anybody.
“That rifle has been too much for half a
dozen men,” said the woman.
“Why, how did that happen?” asked
Leon.
“It happened when they came to burn us
out,” answered the woman. “They came one
31night and tried to call Josiah to the door, but
he would not go. He took his rifle down, but
he wouldn’t shoot until they did, and as he is
a good shot, he hit every time. The next day
we had to move, for they came with a larger
body of men.”
“There is one thing that makes me think
you are in a bad place,” said Leon. “You
are right here close to the river which separates
the two counties, and if anybody makes
a raid over here they will strike you, sure. I
think if that convention is held you had better
come down to our place. We have room
enough there to stow you away.”
“Oh, thank you. Perhaps you had better
speak to Josiah about it.”
Josiah was out attending to his horses and
cow, and Leon went out to him. He looked
at him with more respect than he did the
night before, for, in addition to burning the
bridges, he had “got the better” of half a
dozen men. He bade Leon a hearty good-morning,
but the boy noticed that all the
while he kept talking to him he kept his eyes
fastened on the woods. Probably it was from
32the force of habit. He agreed with Leon
that they were in a bad place to meet raids,
and promised that after the convention came
off he would see what he could do. He
didn’t want to trespass on anybody until he
had to.
Breakfast over, Leon brought his horse to
the door, put on his saddle and bridle and bid
good-bye to the family from Tennessee, and
rode off. He was two days more on his route,
and on the third day he turned his horse
toward home. He reached it without any mishap,
and his mother was glad to see him,
judging by the hug she gave him. His father
had arrived the night before, but the stories
he had to tell didn’t compare with Leon’s.
Of course his mother was shocked when she
learned that Josiah (Leon did not know what
else to call him) had shot so many men before
he left Tennessee, but she readily agreed to
shelter his wife and children.
“I never thought to ask him his name,”
said Leon, “but I will ask him down to the
convention. He was dead in favor of it, and
said he would be there. I tell you that man
33has passed through a heap. He couldn’t talk
to me without running his eyes over the woods
to see if there was anybody coming.”
On the next day but one was the time of
the convention, and at an early hour Mr.
Sprague and Leon mounted their horses and
set out for Ellisville. On the way they picked
up a good many more, both afoot and on horseback,
and by the time they reached their destination
they numbered fifty or more. They
made their way at once to the church, and
found themselves surrounded by a formidable
body of men, all of whom were armed with
rifles. There must have been a thousand men
there, and there was not a secessionist to be
seen in the party. Shortly afterward Nathan
Knight arrived. He bid good-morning to the
people right and left, and went into the
church, whither he was followed by all the
building would hold. Those who couldn’t
get in raised the windows on the outside and
settled themselves down to hear what was
going to happen.
Nathan Knight was a large man, with gray
whiskers and an eye that seemed to look right
34through you. But for all that his face was
kindly, and if you got broken up in business
and wanted help, Nathan Knight was the man
to go to. He took his seat in the pulpit, just
where he knew the folks would send him,
took off his hat and drew his handkerchief
across his forehead. His meeting was not
conducted according to order, but those who
were there understood it.
“Gentlemen will please come to order,”
said he. “Are there any of us who are opposed
to taking this county out of the State
of Mississippi? If there is, let him now speak
or hereafter hold his peace.”
Each man gazed into the face of his neighbor;
but each one knew that the one he
looked at was as much in favor of secession as
he was himself. Finally, some one in the
back part of the church called out:
“Nathan, there ain’t nary a rebel here.”
“I am glad to hear it,” said Mr. Knight.
“But there are some around in the county,
and you want to be careful how you deal with
them. I will now appoint a committee of six
to draw up a series of resolutions of secession.
35They will go over to the hotel and come back
when they get done.”
Mr. Knight had evidently been thinking of
this matter before for he appointed the committee
without hesitation, and among them
was the name of Mr. Sprague. They were all
men who would not say a thing they did not
mean, and as they were about to go out the
president beckoned Mr. Sprague to his desk
and placed a piece of paper in his hands.
“There’s some resolutions I drew up after
thinking the matter over,” said he. “Perhaps
it will serve as a model to you. You can
amend them or leave them out entirely, as
suits you best.”
When the committee had retired Mr.
Knight got up, and for the next half-hour proceeded
to arraign the Confederate States and
praise the Union, his remarks calling forth
loud and long-continued applause. He took
the ground that it was a “geographical impossibility”
to conquer Jones county, because,
the inhabitants being lumbermen, it would be
easy for them to slip into the woods, and
when there nobody but a raftsman could find
36them. He kept his speech going until the
committee were seen coming back. Mr.
Sprague made his way to the desk, and amid
the most impressive silence read the resolutions
of secession as follows:
Whereas, The State of Mississippi has seen fit to
withdraw from the Federal Union for reasons which
appear justifiable;
And whereas, We, the citizens of Jones county,
claim the same right, thinking our grievances are
sufficient by reason of an unjust law passed by Congress
of the Confederate States of America, forcing
us to go to distant parts, etc., etc.;
Therefore be it resolved, That we sever the union
heretofore existing between Jones county and the
State of Mississippi, and proclaim our independence
of said State and the Confederate States of America;
and we solemnly call upon Almighty God to witness
and bless such act.
When Mr. Sprague ceased reading, the applause
which shook the building was long
and loud. Not satisfied with that, some of
the raftsmen fired off their guns, and for the
next five or ten minutes it was impossible to
do anything inside the church. By that time
the excitement had somewhat died out, and
37then the president asked if there was any debate
on the matter, but no one had anything
to say. Knowing that those six men had the
good of the county at heart, there was not one
who had anything to say against them. Mr.
Knight expressed himself pleased, and was
about to announce that the resolutions were
passed, when somebody on the outside of the
building called out:
“Nathan, here’s a couple of rebels out here.”
“What are they doing out there?” asked
the president, in surprise.
“I don’t know. They have just come up
here. It looks to me like they were going to
recruit.”
“Well, fetch them in here. Now, boys,
not a word out of you. I will do the talking,
and if you have any questions to ask, you can
ask them; but don’t all talk at once.”
Mr. Knight settled back in his chair and
the most profound silence ensued. Finally
the crowd about the door gave way as the
rebels and their escort approached, and the
Confederates, seeing so many men standing
there with their hats all off, courteously took
38off their own. They kept on until they got
up to the desk, and then Mr. Knight drew up
chairs for them to be seated.
“Now, gentlemen, what brought you up
here?” asked the president.
“We came up here to recruit,” replied the
ranking officer. “I am glad to see so many
of you here, for it will save us the trouble of
hunting you up.”
“Will you be kind enough to read that?”
said Mr. Knight, unfolding the paper on
which the resolutions were written and passing
it over to the officer.
The official took the paper, and as he read
his eyes opened with surprise. When he had
got through with it he passed it over to his
subordinate, and then turned and looked at
the men near him. He was satisfied that there
was not a man there who did not believe
every word of those resolutions. The officer
had nothing to fear now—he was the first recruiting
official that ever came there—but
after he got away he would not come back at
any price.
“These are not all your men?” said he.
39“No, sir. We have not more than three
hundred men, but these extra parties have
come in with their families at odd times. And
every man you see is a Union man.”
“My friend, you are making a great mistake,”
began the officer.
“We are ready to stand by it, sir.”
“Do you suppose the Confederates will
stand by and allow you to take this county
out of the State, to be an odd sheep in the
flock?” continued the officer. “The first
thing you know you will be overrun with
men, and you won’t have a house to go
into.”
“What will we be doing all that time?”
“Oh, I suppose you will fight, but it won’t
do you any good. The Confederates can send
twenty thousand men in here.”
“We don’t care if they send forty thousand,”
replied the president. “Whatever you
send we’ll fight.”
The men who were crowded in the church
and gathered about the windows couldn’t
stand it any longer. They broke out into loud
applause, which continued for some minutes.
40When they got through, the officer evidently
thought they were in earnest.
“We have a thousand men here, and when
we get into the swamp we are willing to meet
five thousand,” continued Mr. Knight. “You
can’t conquer us.”
“What will you do for grub?”
“We’ll steal it,” shouted one of the men;
and the answer was so droll and corresponded
so entirely with the thoughts of the men who
were standing around, that the whole assembly
burst into laughter. Even the enrolling officers
joined in.
“I suppose you can do that, of course,”
said he, “but supposing the escort is too strong
to be successfully attacked?”
“We don’t borrow any trouble on that
score,” said Mr. Knight. “We haven’t got
all the men we are going to have. You see
how they are coming in now. But you are
interrupting us, and we shall have to bid you
good-bye. You see very plainly that you can’t
raise any men here for the Confederate army.
Another thing we’ll tell you, you are the first
to come in, and you will be the last to go out.”
41“Do you mean to say that you will kill any
enrolling officers who come here?”
“That’s just what I mean to say. We don’t
want them here.”
“Well,” said the official, rising to his feet,
“we’ll go, but we won’t be the last officers to
come in here. I will tell you that very plainly.
You mustn’t think that the Confederates are
going to allow you to have your own way in
this matter. It beats anything I ever heard of.”
“We are aware of that, and that’s what
makes us think we are going to go through
with it. I will bid you good-bye, gentlemen.”
The men divided right and left to allow the
rebels a chance to get out, and when they had
passed out beyond the door the president proceeded
to call the meeting to order.
“I am pleased with the way you obeyed
my commands,” said Mr. Knight. “If you
will obey as promptly as that, we are going to
be hard to whip. The next thing is to elect
a president.”
“I nominate Nathan Knight as president
of the Jones County Confederacy,” shouted a
man near the door.
42“We ought to have a ballot for that,” said
Mr. Knight.
“We don’t need no ballot. It takes too
much time. Can I get a second to that?”
He could and he did. It seemed as if every
man in the house seconded the motion. Mr.
Sprague put the vote before the house, and it
was carried unanimously. Mr. Knight did
not stop to make a speech, but said the next
vote would be for vice-president, and Mr.
Sprague was nominated.
“Hold on, there,” shouted a voice. “We
don’t want Mr. Sprague for vice-president.
We want him for secretary of war. If there
is any man who can put us fellows where we
can do the most good in a fight Mr. Sprague
is the chap.”
And so it was all through the convention.
There wasn’t a ballot taken for anything, and
no man thought of declining an office. By
four o’clock the work was all done, and then
Mr. Knight thought of something else.
“There is one thing more that I want the
convention to decide on,” said he. “It is
a ticklish piece of business, but we have got
43to do it. Jeff Davis has been making things
very uncomfortable for our fellows out there
in the Confederacy by telling them that they
have got to light out or go into the army;
now, what’s to hinder us from doing the same
thing? There are many rebels about here—”
“And I say let’s get rid of them,” said a
voice. “I know one fellow who is going around
all the time talking secession, and if the meeting
says the word I’ll go to him and tell him
he had better dig out. The county will be
a heap happier if he ain’t in it.”
“Let’s all go in a body,” said another voice.
“That’s what I say,” said a chorus of half a
dozen men.
“I think myself that would be the better
way,” said the president. “If a lot of us get
together and call upon a man, he will think we
are in dead earnest. Give them time to take
what they want, and then escort them out of
the county. Don’t leave a rebel behind you.
There being no further business, the convention
stands adjourned, to meet again upon call.”
And where was Leon Sprague all this time?
He was sitting in the front seat, where he
44could hear all that was going on. He felt
proud when his father was elected secretary
of war. He supposed, of course, that it was his
business to post men in battle, but he learned
better after a while. He was particularly
anxious about escorting the rebels out of the
county, and as soon as the convention adjourned
he hurried out to find Tom Howe. As
he was hurrying through the door, whom should
he run against but Josiah—the “man who had
seen a heap,” and who “got the best of half a
dozen men.” He stood with his rifle hugged
up close to him as if it were an old friend and
he did not want to part from it.
CHAPTER III. “A WORD IN YOUR EAR.”
45
“Why, Josiah, I am glad to see you,” said
Leon, advancing and shaking hands
with the man. “The rebels haven’t raided you
yet? Look here, what is your name? I forgot
to ask you when I was up to your house.”
“Giddings—Josiah Giddings,” answered
the man. “No, the rebels have not raided
me yet, but I am mighty dubious about them.”
“Well, I want to make you acquainted
with my father,” said Leon. “He will give
your wife protection at his house. We have a
negro cabin there that is much more comfortable
than the one you live in now, for it
doesn’t leak. And there is plenty of pasturage
there for your horse and cow.”
Leon drew up alongside of Giddings and
in a few minutes his father came out. The
introduction was given, and after a few commonplace
46remarks Mr. Sprague inquired how
he liked the resolutions.
“They ain’t strong enough,” said Giddings.
“If you had two brothers in jail waiting for
their death-warrant, I reckon you would put
in more language than you did.”
“Where is that?” inquired Mr. Knight,
who came out just at that moment.
“Up in Tennessee mountains. My brothers
were engaged in bridge burning, and now
they have got to suffer death for it.”
Leon waited just long enough to see that Giddings
was in a fair way to make the acquaintance
of the principal men of the county, and
then hastened out to find Tom Howe. After
looking all about, he discovered him sitting
under the shade of an oak eating a lunch.
“Hallo, Leon; have some,” was the way
in which he greeted the new-comer. “It’s
mighty good, I tell you—chicken and apple
pie.”
“A person to look at your lunch wouldn’t
think that we Union fellows would be so hard
up for grub,” said Leon, seating himself on
the ground by Tom’s side. “You heard
47what that man said, in reply to the enrolling
officer, that if we got short of provisions we
would steal them? But I want to talk to you
about driving those rebels away from here.”
“I know one who will get out of the county
with once telling,” said Tom.
“Who is it?”
“Carl Swayne.”
“That’s just the fellow I was thinking of,”
said Leon, spitefully. “He told me the other
day that if we ran into the swamp it would
not take him long to show them where we
were.”
“And he told me that he wished I had
been smashed up in that jam while I was
about it, for then there would be one Union
man less in the world,” said Tom. “I’ll
never forget him for that.”
“Well, you come around to the house early
to-morrow morning, and we will go up and
send him off. I see father is getting ready to
go home, so I must go. So-long.”
Leon mounted his horse and started on a
lope after his father, but when he came up
with him he found him surrounded by a lot
48of men and boys who were talking loudly of
the secession resolutions, finding no end of
fault with the Confederate Government, and
praising the Union.
“They won’t get me, no matter which way
they turn,” said one of the men, who lived
away off in the swamp. “I live two miles
from everybody, and right there is where the
fight is going to take place. The river in
front of my house is so narrow that you can
throw a stone across it anywhere, and for a
mile above and below the house it spreads out
into a swamp that they couldn’t get across to
save their necks.”
“So you really think there is going to be a
fight, do you?” inquired Mr. Sprague.
“Oh, sure. It’s just as that enrolling officer
said. The Confederates ain’t a-going to
leave us to be the black sheep in the flock.
We are going to see some fun before we get
through with this.”
That was the opinion of all the men, and
they concluded, too, that the best place to hold
the fight would be right there in front of this
man’s house. “But I’ll tell you what’s a fact,”
49said Giddings, “you will have to look out for
your wife and children. The rebels will make
short work of them if they get hold of them.”
“The swamp is big,” said the man. “If
they get out in there I will risk the rebels
getting hold of them.”
Then men and boys dropped off one after
the other when they came to the cross-roads
that led to their homes, and by the time Mr.
Sprague reached his home there were but few
men besides Giddings left. The latter got off
his horse at the gate and went in to take a
view of the cabin in which Mr. Sprague told
him he could live until the trouble was all
over, and he straightway came to the conclusion
that it was a much better house than the
one he now occupied.
“You see there was nobody there to tell
me that I could go into that house or I could
stay out of it,” said Giddings. “It wasn’t
occupied, and so I went into it, and sometimes
when it rains you might just as well be outside.
If it suits you, I will come here to-morrow.”
Mr. Sprague told him that the sooner he
50came the better; but Giddings declined an
invitation to supper, because he knew his wife
was waiting for him, so he got on his horse
and rode off.
“It kinder runs in my mind that that man
Giddings will be a good fellow to tie to,” said
Mr. Sprague, as he drew his chair up to the
table. “There’s no end to the way he hates
the rebels, and it’s my opinion that when he
shoots at them he will shoot to kill.”
“But do you really think there is going to
be a fight?” inquired his wife. She asked
this in a very indifferent manner, as if she did
not care whether it came or not. She had got
used to thinking of such things.
Mr. Sprague, by way of reply, told her all
about the convention, and described to her
the visit of the enrolling officers who had
come up there to enlist men for the Confederate
army.
“Did they get any?” inquired Mrs. Sprague.
“Not much. There were a thousand men
there under arms, and that is rather more than
two men want to handle. They know all
about our plans, for Knight showed them the
51resolutions. Of course, they are going back
to their headquarters, and are going to make
a fuss about it.”
“I tell you it won’t be long now before we
shall see some Confederate soldiers up here,
and I wonder if I dare shoot at any of them?”
said Leon. “If they will let me alone I
believe I’ll let them alone.”
“How about those rebels that we are going
to drive away from here to-morrow?” asked
his father. “I think I have heard you say
something pretty rough against Carl Swayne.”
“Well, that’s a different matter. Carl won’t
let me alone, and I am determined that hereafter
I am going to live in peace. He told
Tom Howe that he wished he had been
jammed up in that log heap, and I don’t like
to have people talk that way.”
Early the next morning Mr. Sprague’s
family were up and stirring. Leon was surprised
when he looked at his father. There
was a determined expression on his face, and
the boy became aware that he was about to
engage in an enterprise that promised at some
future time to bring him no end of trouble.
52Leon took his cue from it, and from that time
he was not so joyous as he had been. He
took his revolver out, shot it at a mark, and
then proceeded to load it very carefully. There
was only a man and a boy and two women in
the family he intended to send out of the
county, and Leon could not understand that
determined look on his father’s face. When
he sat down at the breakfast-table he asked
him about it.
“Father, you seem to think you are going
to have a handful in sending that Swayne
family away from among their friends,” said
he. “What do you look for?”
“I don’t look for anything now,” said Mr.
Sprague. “There will be a time when they
will come back. Old man Swayne is a fighter,
and it will stand us well in hand to get rid of
him entirely.”
The conversation was dropped there, and
they ate breakfast in silence. Before it was
fairly ended the five men on whom Mr.
Sprague was depending to assist him stepped
up on the porch and came into the house.
They were all invited to sit down and take
53another breakfast, but all declined, having
broken their fast several hours before.
“You see, Mrs. Sprague, we got an order
from the Secretary of War, and we’ve got to
be on hand,” said one of the men. “It would
not do to go back on anything he tells us.”
“I don’t know what they put me in for
that office for,” said Mr. Sprague. “I don’t
see that I have got anything to do.”
“Well, wait until it comes to fighting, and
then you will find plenty to do. Now if you
are all ready we’ll go on,” said the man, forgetting
that he was giving orders to his superior
officer. “We can’t get rid of that Swayne
family any too quick. They’re all the time
boasting and bragging of what they intend to
do, and now we will give them a chance.”
Leon found opportunity to kiss his mother
good-bye, and when he went out on the porch,
where Tom Howe was sitting and waiting for
him, they fell in behind the men, who
shouldered their rifles and marched at a brisk
pace toward Mr. Swayne’s house. There was
no attempt at military movement, for there
was not one in the party who knew anything
54about it, but they went ahead just as if they
were going hog-hunting in the woods. In due
time they came to a cross-roads which led
down to Swayne’s house, and here they
stopped, for there was something that drew
their attention and angered them not a little.
Before they left Ellisville, on the day of the
convention, Mr. Knight had given several
copies of the resolutions to men living in different
parts of the county, with the request
that they should nail them up on trees (there
was no printing-press in the county), in order
to give those who were not there timely notice
of what they had done. The man who
served this notice performed his duty, for the
tacks were in the tree plain enough, but it
hadn’t been able to do much good. The notice
had been torn down and the pieces scattered
about on the ground.
“Well, I do think in my soul!” began one
of the men, “he wasn’t going to let anybody
see it, was he?”
“Look here,” exclaimed Leon, who had
grown wonderfully sharp sighted of late; “I
know who did it. It was that miserable Carl
55Swayne. Do you not see his footprints here
in the dust?”
“That’s so. Now what shall we do with
him? Sprague, you are Secretary of War,
and you ought to be able to say what shall be
done with him. Knight never thought yesterday,
when he gave out those resolutions, that
somebody would go to work and pull them
down.”
Meanwhile Leon had been busy gathering
up the torn fragments of the resolution that
were scattered around. When he got them together
he compared them and saw they were
all there.
“I’ll fix him,” said he. “And I’ll make
him so sorry that he ever tore this down that
he’ll go by a resolution the next time he sees it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll make him write it over again and
come here and put it up,” said Leon, savagely.
“That’s the idea,” said Tom Howe. “He
pulled it down, and of course he must put it
up. I’ll be close at your heels when you are
doing it.”
Mr. Sprague said nothing, but Leon noticed
56that the look on his face got deeper than ever.
He led the way at increased speed toward
Swayne’s house, and in a few minutes turned
through the carriageway and saw Mr. Swayne
and his nephew, Carl, sitting on the front
porch. They evidently grew alarmed at seeing
them, for they arose from their chairs and
held on to the backs of them.
“Good morning,” said Swayne, and his
voice trembled and his hand shook as he
hauled up some chairs for them to seat themselves.
“I did not expect to see so many of
you here this fine morning.”
“We have no time to sit down,” said Mr.
Sprague, who was supposed to do all the talking.
“You are a rebel, are you not?”
“Well—yes; that is it depends on what you
call a rebel,” said Mr. Swayne, trying to
laugh at his own wit. “I am opposed to your
trying to take this county out of the State;
because why—”
“So I supposed. We have come here to
tell you that you can pack up and leave this
county as soon as you please. We don’t want
to hear any argument about it.”
57“Why—why, where shall I go to?” exclaimed
Swayne, while the boy turned whiter
than ever. “If I leave here, I leave everything
I have got behind me.”
“We will give you an hour to pack up
things. If you are in the house at the end of
that time, we shall set fire to it.”
“Well, now, see here,” said Swayne, who
grew more frightened than ever; “I can’t
pack up in an hour—”
“I have told you just what I intend to do,”
said Mr. Sprague, consulting his watch. “It is
now ten o’clock. If you are in here at eleven
we shall set the house going. If you are out
of it in that time, why, we’ll save it. You
want to make up your mind in a hurry.”
“Of all the brazen-faced fellows I ever saw
you are the beat,” said Swayne, his fear giving
place to anger. “I wish I had half a
dozen Confederate soldiers here to protect
me.”
“By gum! We’ll set the house a-going before
you get out of it,” said one of Mr.
Sprague’s men. “You ain’t a-going to talk
to us like that.”
58“One moment, Bud. We’ll sit down here
on the porch until he gets through being mad,
and then maybe he’ll pack up. You had better
go, Swayne, for as sure as we are sitting
on this porch, so sure will we set fire to it.”
In the meantime Leon and Tom had stood
close together, and as Carl flounced into the
house after his uncle, the two bounded up the
steps and went up to the frightened boy.
“A word in your ear,” said Leon.
“Well, I don’t want anything to do with
you,” said Carl, almost ready to cry when he
found himself driven away from his home.
“A man who will do as you have done has no
business with a white person.”
“One moment,” said Leon, while Tom
cocked his gun and brought it to bear on Carl’s
head. “That brings you to your senses, don’t
it? Here’s a resolution of secession that my
father got up yesterday, and which was left
on a tree down here, and I found it torn up
and strewn on the ground. Did you have a
hand in it?”
“Say, Tom, I want you to turn that gun
the other way,” said Carl, who dared not move
59for fear that the rifle would still be pointed at
him.
“Did you have a hand in it?” repeated
Leon.
“Yes, I did,” said Carl, who, remembering
that his uncle had got off easy by showing
some grit, now resolved to show a little himself.
“I will tear up every one you put
there.”
“Well, I want you to go into the house and
bring out some writing materials, and sit down
at this table here on the porch and draw up a
full copy of this resolution,” said Leon; and
Carl had never heard him speak so before.
As he spoke he drew a revolver from his
pocket.
“I can’t write as well as that,” stammered
Carl, who saw that he had got to do something
very soon. “I wish you would put that revolver
away. You don’t know how it worries
me to have those things in sight.”
“You can write well enough. Go and get
the pen and ink. And mind you, you want
to be out here in short order, or we will be in
there after you.”
60Carl hurried into the house, while Tom uncocked
his gun and leaned upon it, and Leon
put his revolver into his pocket. They didn’t
think they would have any more use for them.
Carl went at once to the room in which his
aunt was busy packing up some of her clothes,
and the face he brought with him was enough
to attract anybody’s attention.
“Well, Carl, this is pretty rough, ain’t it?”
said his uncle, who was engaged in getting
some of his own things together.
“I should say it was,” whimpered Carl.
“Are you not going to be revenged on these
fellows?”
“We’ll be revenged on them so quick that
they won’t know it,” said his aunt, in a husky
voice. She didn’t cry, but her hands trembled
and her face was very white.
“Where are your writing materials, aunt?
That little Leon Sprague is going to make me
write out those resolutions I tore down. I wish,
with uncle, that we had some half a dozen
Confederate soldiers here. Wouldn’t we make
a scattering among them?”
“Carl, you can’t have those writing materials,”
61said his aunt, who was struck motionless
with surprise. “Tell him that we haven’t
got any in the house. The young jackanapes!
Where’s your rifle, that you don’t use it? I
wish I were a man for about twenty minutes.
There wouldn’t be so many of them as there
are now.”
“But, aunt, they have got fire-arms, and
they pulled them on me,” said Carl. “If I
don’t get them out there very soon they will
come after me.”
“You will find them in the top bureau
drawer,” said his aunt, who began to think it
was necessary to show a little speed. “Wait
until I get my things all together and get out
there, I will give them a piece of my mind.”
“Now, Lydia, you want to be mighty careful
what you say out there,” said her husband.
“They have got weapons, and they had just
as soon use them as not. It is a pretty piece
of business, this allowing strangers to drive
us away from our home, but I tell you we’ll
have revenge for it sooner or later. Pack up
all your things in a hurry, for we have an
hour left us in which to save our home.”
62Carl, seeing that his uncle had no way to
propose for him to get out of making a copy
of that secession resolution, hunted up the
writing materials as soon as he could, and
went out on the porch with them. He found
Leon and Tom there, and they were getting
impatient.
“Look here,” said the former, “if you want
to help your uncle get his things together you
will move a little spryer than that. Now, sit
down at this table and make out a full copy
of this paper, just as it was when you pulled
it down.”
“I’ll bet you won’t always have things all
your own way,” said Carl, as he seated himself
and removed the stopper from the ink-bottle.
“You don’t suppose we’ll come back,
do you?”
“I suppose you will, and that you will have
men with you,” said Leon. “But you must
bring all of two thousand men to put this rebellion
down. Don’t let’s have any more talk.
Go on and write out that paper.”
“And remember, it’s got to be the same as
it was there,” said Tom, when he saw Carl
63arrange the pieces without reference to what
came after them. “If you don’t, you will have
to write it over again.”
While Carl was busy with his copying his
uncle and aunt came out on the porch. They
didn’t say a word, but brought with them a
large bundle of clothing that they wanted to
save. Aunt Lydia showed that she would
have annihilated Mr. Sprague if she could, for
the glance she cast upon him was full of hate.
Mr. Swayne then took a horn down from a
nail under the porch and blew two long blasts
upon it. That was a signal to let the field-hands
know that they were wanted. Presently
the field-hands came up, a half a dozen of
them, and although they may have been very
smart negroes, the clothing which they wore
did not proclaim the fact. There was hardly
a piece of cloth on them that wasn’t patched
until it was almost ready to drop off their
persons. They looked on in surprise when
they saw so many Union men there (they used
to say that the darkies were rather blunt in
such matters, and that they didn’t know who
the Union men were), and saw the piles of
64clothing that had been brought out, but the
first words their master spoke to them cleared
everything up.
“We’ve got to go away from home now, or
these men are going to burn it,” said Mr.
Swayne. “Hitch those mules to the lumber-wagons
and bring them up here. Be in a
hurry, now, for we have no time to waste.”
The darkies rolled their eyes in great astonishment,
and then went about their work with
alacrity. In a few minutes the wagons were
driven up to the door, and the darkies began
to pile in the clothes. While Mr. Sprague
was watching them he became aware that
somebody was trying to attract his attention.
A pebble thrown by a friendly hand hit
him on the shoulder. He faced about, and
saw one of the darkies behind the house.
When he saw Mr. Sprague looking at him he
beckoned to him to come where he was.
CHAPTER IV. CARL BRINGS NEWS.
65
“Say, Marse Sprague, is you Union men
going to burn dese houses ober deir
heads?” began the darky, so excited that he
could scarcely stand still.
“We have given them an hour to take their
things out,” said Mr. Sprague. “If they
don’t take them out in that time we’ll set the
house a-going. If they get all their things
out and loaded in the wagons we’ll save the
house, so that they can have something to
live in when these troubles are all over.”
“Whar do you reckon dey’ll go if dey get
the things all tooken out?” asked the negro.
“I don’t know where they will go; over
into the next county, probably. But what
makes you so anxious?”
“Well, say, Marse Sprague, I don’t care to
66go ober into the next county wid ’em. Dey’s
rebels ober dere.”
“So I have heard.”
“Well, I don’t want to go among dose rebels
’cause I won’t get no freedom. Dey say we’ll
get it in a little while if we stays here among
dese Union men.”
“Who told you that?”
“Your own Mose told me dat, sah.”
“Is Mose going to take his freedom when
he can get it?”
“Sah? No, sah. He say he’s got a Marse
who don’t stripe his jacket none, and he ain’t
a-going to look at his freedom. I tell you, I
don’t care to go ober into dat oder county
wid dem people here.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“We-uns didn’t know what to do about it.
If we slip away from dem while dey are going
ober dar can dey catch us?”
“I don’t know whether they can or not.
There’s been an Emancipation Proclamation
issued by Abraham Lincoln, saying that if
they don’t quit their rebellion in six months
he will declare their niggers all free.”
67“Dat’s just what I want to get at, sah,” said
the negro, pounding his knees and shaking
his head as if he were overjoyed to hear it.
“Dat’s just what I want, sah. De rebels ain’t
a-going to go and get up such a ’bellion, and
den go and give it up ’cause somebody tells
’em to. I ain’t a-going into dat oder county,
and the first thing Marse Swayne knows my
folks and me will be missing.”
“Well, you have got to depend on yourself,”
said Mr. Sprague. “I cannot help you if you
do run away from them.”
“I knows dat mighty well. But you just
watch out and see if you hain’t got more black
folks up to your plantation dan you ought to
have. You is a Union man and I know it,
and you ain’t a-going to give me up just ’cause
Marse Swayne says so.”
The negro started one way because he heard
somebody calling him, and Mr. Sprague
joined the men on the porch feeling as if he
had a big responsibility resting upon him.
He didn’t agree to take all the darkies in the
county who might make up their minds to
run away from their masters, and how was he
68going to support them all and find work for
them to do?
“I tell you, this thing is coming to a head,”
said Mr. Sprague to the man who sat next to
him. “You remember what Stephens said
about having a Government whose cornerstone
should be slavery?”
The man remembered it perfectly. They
used to get Confederate papers when the war
first broke out, but now that they were in rebellion,
and the postmaster was a rebel, they
didn’t get a sight of one. The man who
had charge of the office removed to Mobile
as soon as he saw how things were going,
and since then there had not been any post-office.
“Well, sir, old Cuff has just been talking to
me, and he thinks of running away. He says
that if he goes over into the other county
he won’t get his freedom.”
“Good”“Good” said the man. “I am glad of it.
We’ll see how their ‘corner-stone’ is going to
hold out when they get their Confederacy.
But they ain’t a-going to whip.”
“But this old Cuff thinks I am going to
69support him,” said Mr. Sprague. “I haven’t
got any work for him to do.”
“Send him into the woods to cut logs for
you,” said the man.
“I might do that, but I don’t see where I
am going to find market for them. But I will
get along somehow. Well, half an hour is
gone, and they haven’t got many things out
yet. Leon and Tom seem to be making it all
right with Carl, don’t they?”
The two boys referred to stood patiently by
until the resolutions were complete; then Tom
took his copy and Leon fastened his eyes upon
the torn manuscript and waited for him to
read it. It was all correct; there wasn’t a
mistake in it.
“You write a pretty good hand for a boy
who hasn’t been to school more than you
have,” said Leon.
“Keep your compliments for them that
need them,” said Carl, snappishly. “I don’t
care to hear them.”
“You haven’t got through with this business
yet,” said Leon, in a voice which he
meant should carry conviction with it. “You
70found this resolution on a tree, and you tore
it down so that people couldn’t see it. I intend
that you shall go back and post this
thing up there.”
“But you told me I should have to help
my uncle carry out his things,” said Carl,
anxious to shirk all the responsibility he could.
“Oh, we’ll wait until you carry out your
things,” said Leon, with a smile. “You are
going right by the tree, and it won’t hurt you
at all to stop and nail this thing up.”
Carl gathered up the pen and ink and disappeared
in the house, and Leon and Tom
went down the steps to join the men who were
sitting there.
“I got it, but I had hard work in getting
it, too,” said Leon. “How much longer time
has he got?”
“Not quite fifteen minutes,” said Mr.
Sprague.
“And I see he is hustling things more
lively than he did. You won’t start the fire
when the quarter of an hour is up, seeing
that he is doing the best he can to get them
out?”
71“Oh, no. I wanted to see him get to work,
that is all.”
At the end of half an hour the furniture
and clothes they intended to take with them
had been loaded on the wagons, and then the
women began to slam the blinds and fasten
them securely. When Mr. Swayne came out
on the porch he locked that door and put the
key into his pocket.
“We have got some things in there yet, but
we don’t want these traitors to have them,”
said his wife, in a tone which was intended
very plainly for the ears of Mr. Sprague and
his friends. “Let them go somewhere else
and steal somebody else poor.”
Mr. Swayne did not pay any attention to it.
He buttoned up the key in his pocket, and
looked all around as if he were searching for
someone. At last he called out:
“Cuff! Where is that lazy nigger Cuff?
Come here this minute, or I will stripe your
jacket till you can’t rest.”
Mr. Sprague was surprised. He thought it
very likely that he could tell Mr. Swayne
what had become of the negro Cuff. He had
72been sent with all his companions to the quarters
to bring some clothes and other things they
wanted to save, and he hadn’t showed up
since. It would be very easy for them to slip
through the cornfield, and so into the woods,
and that was right where Cuff was when his
master was calling him.
“Carl, suppose you run down to the quarters
and hurry them up,” said his uncle. “We
want to get away from here as soon as we can.
There’s too many Union people here.”
The man who had threatened to burn the
house before they got out of it was sitting on
the steps a little way from Mr. Sprague. He
wiggled and twisted and wanted to say something
in return, but there was his superior
officer who didn’t say anything, and he
thought he would hold in for a better opportunity.
Carl was away about fifteen minutes,
and when he came back his face bore evidence
that he was utterly confounded.
“There ain’t a nigger about the quarters,”
said he. “Their clothes, both bedding and
wearing apparel, are gone, and that proves that
they have run away.”
73“That’s the first time I ever had a nigger
serve me that way,” said Mr. Swayne, pacing
up and down the porch. “Run away, have
they? If I ever get my hands on them I’ll
make it awfully uneasy for them to lie down,
now I tell you. Did you follow them into the
woods to see where they went?”
“No, I didn’t. I saw their tracks leading
through the cornfield, and then I came home to
report the matter to you. Those niggers think
they are going to get their freedom now.”
“Yes, and you might have expected it,”
said his aunt, turning her flashing eyes upon
Mr. Sprague. “What are these Union men
here for if it isn’t to coax the niggers away
from an honest Confederate?”
“Mrs. Swayne, we had no hand in inducing
your negroes to run away from you,” said Mr.
Sprague, who now began to get angry. “They
said they were not going into the other county
with you, and I told them that they must depend
entirely upon themselves.”
“By gum! You want to see your house
go before you get away from it,” said the
man who had threatened to burn them out.
74“Any more such talk as that and I’ll set her
a-going; by gum I will.”
“Carl, you will have to do some driving for
us, for we can’t stop to hunt the niggers,” said
Mr. Swayne.
“Oh, now, I didn’t agree to do driving,”
whined Carl. “Let’s stop and go into the
woods after them.”
“You have already got your things loaded
on the wagons, and I must ask you to drive
on,” said Mr. Sprague. “It is my duty
to stay by you until you get beyond Ellisville.”
“Carl, jump on that wagon and drive after
me,” said Mr. Swayne. “I don’t want to
hear any more argument about it.”
“Tom, you haven’t got any horse, and I
advise you to get into that wagon with Carl,”
said Leon. “When you come to the tree on
which the resolution was posted, make him
get out and post this one in its place. He’ll
object, but we can’t help it.”
While Carl was tying his riding-horse behind
the wagon Tom climbed in and seated
himself on the table which had been placed
75there for one of the negroes who had gone off
with Cuff. Carl saw what he was doing, but
didn’t make any fuss about it. He had arrived
at his uncle’s conclusion that the best
thing they could do was to take no notice of
the Union men. By doing that they would
irritate them, and they would not have so
much to brag of when they talked about driving
Confederate families out of the county. But
they didn’t know Mr. Sprague and his friends.
The task was one they did not like, but they
did it because they had been ordered to. Carl
kept his mouth resolutely closed until they
came to the tree from which he had torn down
the resolutions. He whipped up his mules
when he came there, but Tom laid hold of the
reins and stopped them.
“Now, Carl, this is the place,” said he.
“Here’s the notice, and you want to get out
and tack it up. The nails are all there.”
Carl didn’t know whether to refuse or not,
but just then Leon came up on his side of the
wagon. Leon had a revolver in his pocket,
and Carl did not like to see that; so he
grabbed the notice and sprang out of the
76wagon. In a few minutes it was tacked up
just the same as it was before.
“There,” said Leon, “that will do. Now
anybody who comes along here and who
wasn’t at the convention can see what we did
there.”
“Now I guess you had better get out,” said
Carl, addressing himself to Tom Howe.
“No, I reckon not,” replied Tom. “I’ve
got to go with you as long as you stay in the
county, and I reckon I can get along here as
well as I can afoot. Drive on.”
Carl at once closed his lips and had nothing
more to say. As they were going by his own
house, Leon noticed that there was nobody
present, for his mother was too refined a
woman to take such a paltry vengeance on
those who did not believe as she did, but there
was one little circumstance that attracted his
attention. He was certain that he saw old
Cuff’s cottonade coat disappear around the
house. He did not have more than a glimpse
of it, but he was sure it was there. When
they arrived at the cross-roads they met ten
more men on foot who were escorting four
77more wagon-loads of secessionists to Perry
county, which was the nearest place they
could get and be among friends. They never
said a word, but fell in behind Mr. Sprague,
and followed along after him. They were all
armed with rifles, and some of them had revolvers
stuck in their belts. The sight of
these men made Carl open his eyes. He had
not dreamed that there were so many Union
men in the county.
“I believe you’ve got more Yankees here
than Confederates,” said he.
“These men are not Yankees,” said Tom.
“They are men born here in the South. But
these ain’t a patching to what we’ve got. If
you had been down to that convention you
would have seen a thousand men under arms.
There were so many of them that we couldn’t
get them all in the church. Some of them
had to stay outside and raise the windows.”
“Well, what did you do there besides pass
the resolutions of secession?” asked Carl; for
now that his uncle was out of hearing he
seemed anxious to learn what had been going
on at that meeting.
78“We elected officers,” said Tom.
“Didn’t you do anything else?”
“Well, yes. There was a couple of enrolling
officers came there to enlist men for the
Confederate army, and we sent them back
where they came from.”
“Then the rebels don’t allow that this
county is out of the State, do they?” said
Carl, who was overjoyed to hear it. “You
have got your own way this time, but I tell
you we are coming back. And I won’t forget
the boys that drew fire-arms on me.”
“Well, that’s right. I suppose they won’t
draw any more on you?”
“No, sir, they won’t,” said Carl, hotly. “I
don’t mind talking this way to you, but I do
hate the sight of that revolver that Leon
Sprague has in his pocket. Where is he
now?”
“He is back talking to those men that came
up awhile ago,” said Tom. “He can’t hear
you, but you must remember that we can fight
tolerable sharp.”
Leon had gradually slackened his pace
until the single man on horseback, who
79seemed to be the leader of the party, came up
and rode beside him.
“Well, sir, you got ’em, didn’t you?” said
the man. “You know, when your father said
he would go up after that man yesterday I
felt rather anxious about him. I thought he
would fight, sure.”
“Well, he didn’t. He did not show any
signs of it. He was mighty saucy, though,
and so was that nephew of his.”
“One of our men was sassy, too. Do you
see that man driving the next wagon? He’s
got a big lump under his eye. Bob Lee hit
him.”
“Now, what did he do that for? Bob had the
right on his side, and there was no reason why
he should get mad and strike the man. My
father had just as good reason to hit Swayne,
but he didn’t do it.”
“He had no business to be sassy. If Bob
hadn’t a hit him I would. He said that he
hoped to goodness that the rebels would come
in and take the last scalp from our heads.
When Bob asked him to take it back he said
he wouldn’t do it, and so Bob upended him.
80That was the last sassy word given to us. It
showed them that we were in earnest. Hello!
There’s three more fellows come up and are
talking to your father, and by gracious! one
of them is a rebel. Let’s go there and see
what they have got to say.”
Leon and his friend urged their horses forward,
and in a few minutes drew up beside
Mr. Sprague, who was listening to some
words the rebel had to say to him. As he
spoke he looked at the women and Mr.
Swayne, and then sank his voice almost to
a whisper.
“Colonel, are these some rebels that you
are taking out of the county?” said he.
“We have got so far with them, and we expect
to get the rest of the way,” answered Mr.
Sprague.
“I want you to come off on one side so that
I can talk to you without fear of being overheard,”
said the rebel. “Now,” he added, as
the men moved some distance down the road,
“the rebels are going to move a big wagon-train
along that road to-morrow. You see
they have got to go around this county, for
81they don’t want to run the risk of being captured
if they pass through here.”
“We stopped and saw President Knight
about it, and he advised us to come on and
see you,” said one of the men who had acted
as guard to the rebel.
“Take his gun away from him,” said Mr.
Sprague, and the rebel promptly gave it up,
together with his ammunition-box and bayonet.
“Have you any other weapons about
you?”
“Nary one, sah,” said the rebel. “My family
is down here a little ways from Ellisville,
and you may know that I am all right when
I bring them with me.”
“How did you say you escaped?”
“I wasn’t conscripted, as a great many
were, but there was such a pressure brought to
bear upon me that I thought I might as well go
into the army instead of waiting until I was
conscripted in reality. I have been in the
service only six months, but I have been in
three or four little engagements. I live in
Perry county, and when I found out what
you were doing here, how you had never sent
82any men into the army, and how there were a
thousand men here who didn’t intend to go at
all, I wrote to my wife, advising her to come
here and I would join her after awhile; but
she wrote back that she wouldn’t stir a step
unless I came. On the night I escaped I was
on guard, and the corporal hadn’t any more
than got away from me when I was missing.
I travelled all night, and at daylight reached
my home. I packed up what few things I
wanted to save and came here, and one of my
mules dropped dead as soon as I got to Ellisville.
I wanted the President to go on at
once and capture that train, but he thought I
had better come on and see you about it.”
“Well, you tell a pretty straight story, and
I shall have to put some faith in it until I can
prove the contrary,” said Mr. Sprague.
“You are at liberty to disprove my story
in any way you can,” said the rebel, earnestly.
“I am dead shot on this thing, and if this
county is going to stay out of the Confederacy
I am going to stay out, too.”
“I shall have to send you to my house,”
said Mr. Sprague.
83“Send me anywhere, sah, but stop and explain
to my family why I don’t come home.
She will appreciate the reason, for she is a
soldier’s wife.”
“Father, come here a minute. I don’t see
what’s the use of sending that rebel to our
house,” said Leon, when his father had drawn
off on one side. “He must have a camp
down there in Ellisville, and, now he has
given up his weapons, I don’t see how he is
going to get away. There are fully five hundred
men camped around Ellisville now.”
“Well, that is so,” said Mr. Sprague, after
reflecting a moment. “I think I had better
take him on to Ellisville and leave him there,
with plenty of men to watch him.”
“That would be my way, certainly.”
“Forward, march!” shouted Mr. Sprague,
as he placed himself at the head of his little
train, and the cavalcade once more moved onward.
The rebel kept close at his side, and Leon
rode a little ways behind him. There was
one thing that drew the boy’s attention, and
that was the rebel’s horse. Although she was
tired, her gait showed that she fretted and
84fumed at the bit as if she was anxious to go
faster. She was a beautiful animal, with
limbs so small that they did not look strong
enough to support her weight.
“May I ask you where you got that horse?”
said Leon, after he had watched her for some
length of time.
“I stole her from the wagon-master,” said
the rebel. “I should not have been able to
get home if it hadn’t been for her. I did the
rebels all the damage I could before leaving
them.”
“There must be some escort with that
wagon-train, isn’t there?” inquired Mr.
Sprague.
“There are twenty-five men, including two
officers,” replied the rebel. “But half of
them you needn’t be afraid of, for they are all
Union.”
“How many wagons are there in the train?”
“Forty;” whereat Leon opened his eyes in
surprise.
“Will the teamsters fight?”
“Fight!” exclaimed the rebel, in disgust.
“No, they won’t. Half of them are armed,
85but they don’t know what it is to fight. When
they see you coming up with your guns all
ready the majority of them will throw up their
hands.”
If ever there was a happy man in that train
it was the rebel. He joked and laughed because
he said he was among friends once more
and could say what he pleased, and all the
way to Ellisville entertained his auditors with
thrilling stories of his earliest battles. He
told how frightened he was when he got into
the first one, and how he looked around for a
hollow log into which he could crawl and get
out of sight; but there were his companions
all standing up without being shot, and his
pride made him stay right where he was. At
three o’clock they reached Ellisville, where
the President had located his office. As Leon
had said, there were at least five hundred men
camped around there, some with their families,
some had no homes at all, but all wanted
to be where they could feel that they were of
some assistance to Mr. Knight. They knew
that when a raid was made upon the county
it would come from Perry, the county next on
86the south, and they calculated to be at hand
to stop it. Here Mr. Sprague halted his train
and went in to hold an interview with the
President, taking the rebel’s gun with him.
He was gone but a few minutes, and when he
came out his countenance indicated that he
had resolved upon something. He mounted
his horse and rode in among the lean-tos and
other shelters which the men had erected for
themselves, and shouted “Attention!” at the
top of his voice, and immediately every man
who heard him came running up to see what
was the matter. When he thought he had
got a sufficient number about him, Mr. Sprague
proceeded to unfold his plans. It wasn’t the
way that a majority of leaders do, for they
never let their men know what sort of dangers
they are going to meet until they get fairly
into them.
“We are going out to-morrow to attack that
wagon-train,” said Mr. Sprague, “and I want
all of you who can go to be on hand here
bright and early.”
“Good!” exclaimed one. “Then we’ll have
something to eat.”
87Mr. Sprague then went on to tell them how
many wagons there were in the train, how
many teamsters, and how large an escort of
soldiers; for he put implicit faith in the
rebel’s word. He was certain that five
hundred men, if he could secure that many,
advancing with their guns at full cock, would
take all the fight out of them. Mr. Sprague
was careful not to talk so loud as to attract
the attention of Mr. Swayne, for he knew that
he would warn the Confederates. Having
given his men something to think about, he
rode back to place himself at the head of his
train, which moved away toward the county
line.
CHAPTER V. CAPTURING A WAGON-TRAIN.
88
“Now,” said Mr. Sprague, when Leon
rode up beside him, “you want to go
and tell your mother the reason that I don’t
come home to-night. I shall have to stay
here with the men, to be ready to start out
with them at an early hour.”
“Then after that I suppose I can stay at
home,” said Leon.
“Yes; I think that would be the best place
for you. Those twenty-five men, and all of
them old soldiers, are not going to give up
that wagon-train without some resistance.”
“Well, now, I’ll tell you what’s a fact,
father,” said Leon, decidedly. “I just ain’t
a-going to stay at home.”
“Why not?” said Mr. Sprague, in surprise.
“If you are going to meet those men, I am
going, too. You needn’t think you are going
89into danger without my being close beside
you. I wouldn’t dare look mother in the face
again if I should be guilty of remaining at
home.”
Mr. Sprague looked down at the horn of
his saddle and thought about it. Leon had
really more pluck than his father thought he
had, and after awhile he thought it would be
better to let the boy have his own way in the
matter.
“I don’t see what is the use of sending any
word at all home to mother,” said Leon, after
pondering what his father had said. “She
knows that we are in the service of the
county, and she won’t care whether we come
home or not. The best way would be to stay
right down here and go home when we get
the job done.”
This settled the matter, and Mr. Sprague
never referred to it again. About eight o’clock
they arrived at the little bridge which spanned
the creek that flowed between Jones and Perry
counties, and there Mr. Sprague halted his
men and motioned to Mr. Swayne to go on.
The man complied, and when he had got far
90enough across to let all the wagons that came
after him get a footing on Confederate soil he
stopped and jumped out.
“Thank goodness I’ve got a white man’s
ground under my feet!” he exclaimed; and no
one had ever seen him so mad before. He
seemed to be holding in for just this occasion,
and he was so angry that he could scarcelyscarcely
speak plainly. “I suppose that now I can
talk to you as I have a mind to.”
“Draw yourselves in line across this bridge
and hold your guns in readiness to shoot,” said
Mr. Sprague in a low tone to his men. “He
may open fire on us before we can get under
cover. Oh, yes, you can say what you please,
now,” he said, in his ordinary voice. “But I
wouldn’t say too much till I get behind that
bend.”
“Well, I want to say this much to you,”
shouted Mr. Swayne; “you have had your
own way this time, but we are coming back in
less than a week to clean you all out.”
“And remember this,” exclaimed Carl from
his place in the wagon. “I will bear in mind
the boys who drew shooting-irons on me, you
91see if I don’t. I’ll tear down that notice, and
every other one that I can find.”
“And you, Bob Lee, I’ll remember you,”
said the man with a lump under his eye.
“I’ll teach you that the next man who says
anything about the Confederates—well, you
had better let him alone, that’s all,” he added,
when he saw Bob raise his gun to his shoulder.
“If you are all ready, go on,” said Mr.
Sprague.
Mr. Swayne was a long time in getting into
his wagon. He would place his foot upon the
hub, and then one of the men would say
something insulting in regard to the men they
had just left, and Mr. Swayne would take his
foot down and stand there until he heard what
the man had to say. He was in earnest when he
said they were coming back to clean the
Union men all out, and that there wouldn’t
be hide nor hair of them left when they did
come, and finally he got into his wagon and
drove on. When he looked behind to see
what had become of Mr. Sprague and his
party, he saw them just disappearing around
the nearest bend in the road.
92“I wish I dared shoot at them,” said he.
“Well, I’ll shoot at them, and welcome,”
said the man whom Bob Lee had struck, as
he reached for his gun.
“Don’t do it, Jim,” expostulated Mr.
Swayne.
“Dog-gone it, don’t you see the bump under
my eye?” said the man. “I can see the
chap who did it, and I can pick him off just
as easy as you would kill a squirrel.”
“If you shoot at them they will come back
here and arrest the whole of us, and take us
back to their camp and make us stand a court-martial,”
said Mr. Swayne. “I am not a-going
to stand punishment for your deeds and mine
into the bargain.”
This view of the matter rather arrested the
man’s hand, and he sat with his gun resting
across his knees, muttering curses not loud
but deep, until he saw the Union men disappear
around a bend in the road. Mr. Sprague
knew that he stood a chance of being fired
upon, and that was what he intended to do; he
would arrest the whole of them and take
them to camp. But Mr. Swayne was a little
93too sharp for him. It was two o’clock when
they arrived at the camp, and the men, to
show that they knew what sort of respect
ought to be paid to the Secretary of War, went
off to hunt up some forage for his horse and
Leon’s before they went to bed.
“Well, Leon,” said Mr. Sprague, after the
horses had been picketed with plenty to eat
and the men had all gone away, “we haven’t
got any blankets.”
“No matter for that,” said Leon. “It
won’t be the first time I have slept out with
nothing to cover me. Get some leaves, and
they will do just as well.”
They walked along the road as they talked,
and Mr. Sprague could not help thinking
what a big army he was going to have to attack
that wagon-train. Every step of the way
he saw lean-tos, and he knew that there were
stalwart men sleeping under them. Finally
he drew up before a lean-to where there was a
sentry sitting in front of the door. He did
not carry his arms at a “support,” nor did he
bring his piece to “arms port” and call out,
“Who comes there?” when he saw Mr.
94Sprague and Leon approaching. But he
greeted him in regular backwoods style.
“Hallo, Sprague” said he. “Did you get
your parties through all right?”
The Secretary of War replied that he did,
adding—
“This must be the home of that rebel, isn’t
it?”
“Yes. But he has been perfectly peaceable
all night. He didn’t sleep at all the night before.”
“No; but I am awake now,” called out a
voice from the inside; and there was a little
fussing in the cabin and the rebel came to the
door.
“Say, Colonel, are you going to stay here
all night?”
“That is the intention. I want to get an
early start, and it is too far for me to go
home.”
“Well, now, I know that you haven’t got
any quilts,” said the rebel, disappearing under
the roof of the lean-to. “Here’s some that
will add to your comfort to-night. Take them
and welcome.”
95Mr. Sprague thanked the rebel for his gift
and spread the quilts down where they intended
to camp for the night, while Leon told
himself that it was a good thing to have a
father who was Secretary of War, after all.
They slept soundly for a little while, but at
half-past three Mr. Sprague was awake and
busily engaged in arousing the men. In less
time than it takes to tell it they were all up
and cooking their breakfast, and in an hour
more the grove was empty. Five hundred
men were going out to attack that wagon-train,
and, if possible, secure something to
eat. We don’t mean to say that they were
hard up for provisions, for there was bacon
and corn-meal enough in the county to last
them for months; but we mean that they had
lived so long on these things that they had
grown tired of them. They had been used to
something better than that before the war,
and when their boats came back from tide-water,
after their owners had succeeded in
selling their logs, the housewife found pickles,
canned meat and condensed milk enough to
last her family for six months. That was one
96thing that the men had in view; and another
thing, some of them were in need of clothes;
and they believed that this wagon-train had
something of that kind stowed away for the
boys in Mobile. And, better than all—and
here was the thing that led the men to look
with favor upon robbing the train—it would
show the Confederates they were in earnest;—just
what the Union people wanted to do.
It was a long march from the grove in Ellisville
to the stream that separated the two
counties, but the men went about it in earnest
and determined to get there in time to stop
that wagon-train. Of course, there was plenty
of joking and laughing while they were on
their own ground, but the moment they struck
the bridge a deep silence fell upon the company.
We ought by rights to say that the
men had been divided into five companies, a
hundred men in each, and that each one had
three officers to direct them; but the Union
men of Jones county had not got that far in
military tactics. There was only one man at
the head, Mr. Sprague, and he had the full
management of them.
97Mr. Sprague rode at the head of the line
in company with all the men who had horses,
and there must have been about fifty of them,
and when he crossed the bridge he sent a
dozen of them on ahead to travel at full speed,
to see if the wagon-train had passed.
“I needn’t remind you that you want to go
into every house you come to, and if there is
a man in there take him in,” said he. “Don’t
say a word to the women, but ketch the men.
It won’t do to leave any rebels behind us, for
they can easily warn the train, and so we must
take them with us until we get the job done.
Silas, I will appoint you captain of this squad.”
Silas raised his hand to his hat with something
that was intended for a military salute,
called all his men about him, and went down
the road at a keen jump, while the rest of the
company travelled on as before. An hour
afterward they came up with their scouts, and
Silas at once rode up to report.
“The wagon-train hain’t passed yet, and
we’ve got five men, and two of them are rebels.
We had to chase through a cornfield after one,
and fired two shots at him.”
98“Did you hit him?”
“No, we didn’t hit him, but he was mighty
ready to throw up his hands when he heard
the bullets whistling.”
“Did you get their guns?”
“Yes, we got them all safe.”
“Now the best thing we can do,” said Mr.
Sprague, turning about to face his men, “is
to go down the road and conceal ourselves in
the bushes. When you see me move my arm
this way,” here he raised his arm above his
head and waved it toward the right and left
of the road, “you will all divide and go into
the timber on different sides; and when you
hear me whistle this way,” he put his hand
to his mouth and gave a whistle that could
have been heard a mile, “then you may know
that it is time for you to get down to business.
But bear one thing in mind: Don’t shoot
unless you have to.”
The company, or, more properly speaking,
the battalion, moved on again, and in half an
hour not one of them was in sight. They had
divided right and left, as Mr. Sprague had
directed, and taken up their positions on opposite
99sides of the road, and there was not the
least noise or confusion about it. Two of the
men had gone down the road to see if the train
was coming, and they were impatiently waiting
their return. The prisoners had all been
turned over to Mr. Sprague, and he was having
something of a time with one of them,
who was determined that he would not hold
his tongue. He had a very shrill voice, and
when he spoke in his ordinary tone it could
be heard a long distance.
“Now, Sprague, I don’t see the sense in
your doing this,” said the shrill-voiced man,
and he seemed to have pitched his tones so
loud that they could have heard him at the
end of the line. “You take me away from
my home, who never did the Union any
harm—”
“You are a nice fellow, you are,” said one
of the men who happened to be close around
when the shrill-voiced person was talking. “I
take notice of the fact that Ebenezer Hale
wanted to come up here so as to be among
Union men, and you heard his story, and
when he was asleep that night you went off
100and got a lot of rebels to surround and carry
him off. Where is he now? In jail, likely.
And you, dog-gone you, you never did the
Union men any harm! You had oughter go
to jail until this trouble is all over.”
“Well, now, Simeon, I did just what I
thought was best for the community. I didn’t
have nothing against Ebenezer Hale, but I
knew that if he went into this fight—”
“That’s enough,” said Mr. Sprague. “We
have listened to you all we want to.”
“Now, Sprague, I shan’t quit talking until
I have a mind to,” said the shrill-voiced man.
“You have undertaken more than you can
accomplish, and I say—”
“Sim, cut a little piece of wood about four
inches long, and tie a string to each end of
it,” said Mr. Sprague. “If Kelley don’t shut
up we’ll gag him.”
“Oh, now, Mr. Sprague, don’t gag me,”
said the man, sinking his voice almost to a
whisper this time. “I won’t say one word
more. I won’t, upon my honor.”
The gag was duly cut and prepared, and nothing
was wanting except another word from Mr.
101Kelley to induce Sim to put it where it belonged;
but the man took just one look at it
and concluded that the best thing he could do
was to keep still. He never showed any disposition
to open his head until the scouts were
seen coming back with the information that
the train was approaching. They came in a
hurry, too, as if they were anxious to get
something off their minds.
“Where’s Sprague?” were the words they
shouted as they galloped along the road;
whereupon Mr. Sprague showed himself.
“The train is coming,” they said, as soon as
they came within hearing of their leader.
“Every blessed one of them is coming, and
are acting as if they didn’t fear anything.”
“Did they see you?” inquired Mr. Sprague.
“No, they didn’t. We hid our horses in
the bushes, and then went and lay down
beside the road until we saw the train coming.
Yes, sir, we’re going to get them all.”
Mr. Sprague and his scouts went into the
bushes again out of sight, and then he noticed
that Mr. Kelley wasn’t so anxious to keep in
the background so much as he had been. He
102was even disposed to go out of the bushes, but
he hadn’t made many steps in that direction
when Simeon seized him by the collar and
stretched him flat on his back.
“Oh, now, Simeon—”
“Not another word out of you,” said his
guard, savagely. “You will get the gag in
your mouth as sure as you’re alive.”
“Take your stand close behind him,” said
Mr. Sprague, who was getting angry now,
“and with the very first words he utters
shoot him down. We are not going to have
our plans spoilt for the sake of him.”
Leon, who stood close at his father’s side
and heard all this conversation, grew as pale
as death when he found that the wagon-train
was coming. He clutched his revolver nervously,
and determined that whatever danger
his father got into he would be there to help
him. The leader glanced at his son’s pale
face and said, in a low tone:
“Leon, I think you had better stay here as
a guard to these prisoners.”
“Are you going out there to face that escort?”
asked Leon.
103“Of course I am. I shall be right in the
thickest of it.”
“Then I’m going, too.”
“But you will be safe here. They can’t
hit you, even if they shoot at you.”
But Leon only shook his head, and at that
moment somebody whispered that the foremost
wagons were in sight. That turned Mr.
Sprague’s attention into a new channel, and
Leon was left to himself. He glanced at
Simeon and his captive, and was gratified to
see that Mr. Kelley had been forced to sit
down, and Simeon was standing there with
his cocked gun ranged within two inches of
his head. He wanted to speak, and made a
motion to Simeon to turn the gun the other
way, but as often as he did this the piece was
raised to his guard’s shoulder, and the words
froze on his lips.
The foremost wagon came along as rapidly as
the mules could draw it, and after what seemed
an age to Leon the wagons were all in view.
When the leading wagon was almost opposite
to him Mr. Sprague raised his hand to his
mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Never in his
104life had he given a better one. He wasn’t excited
at all. There was a moment’s silence there
in the brush, and out popped the cavalry and
infantry, and in less time that it takes to tell it
the wagon-train was surrounded. Not a shot
was fired. To say that the rebels were astounded
would not half express their feelings.
Every teamster had three or four guns looking
at him, and the cavalry, who occupied the
advance of the train, were surrounded with
horsemen that were two to their one.
“Well, by George! You have done this up
in good shape,” said the rebel captain, after
he had taken time to get his wits together.
“What are you—Union?”
“Yes, sir; Union to the backbone,” replied
Mr. Sprague. “May I trouble you for your
sword and revolver?”
“That was as neat a surprise as I ever saw,”
said the captain, as he unbuckled his belt and
handed it to Mr. Sprague. “You didn’t give
us time to fire a shot. What are you going
to do with us? Put us in jail?”
“No, sir. We shall allow you to go where
you please,” said Mr. Sprague, accepting the
105belt and fastening it about his own waist. “We
are not making war on your folks now, but on
your provisions. We shall have to take your
horses, too. Dismount.”
“I guess father’s all right, and now I’ll get
some weapons of my own,” said Leon, as he
turned his horse and rode along the line of
the escort. “There must be some rebels in
there that haven’t given up all their fire-arms.”
As he rode along he found a soldier on the
inside of the third four who held his weapons
in his hand and was looking around for somebody
to give them to. When he saw Leon
approaching he held his sword, revolver and
carbine toward him over his companion’s horse.
“Come out here,” said Leon. “I shall“I shall have
to take your horse as well as your weapons.”
“Well, I can’t help it, can I?” said the
rebel, who was more inclined to laugh than he
was to feel despondent over it. He came out
and proceeded to give up his horse and weapons
to Leon, and at the same time he took
particular pains to place himself on the boy’s
side next to the woods. In this way he could
106talk to him without his rebel friends hearing
it.
“Say,” he added, “you won’t take me to
jail, will you?”
“Certainly not,” said Leon.
“Don’t talk so loud. I don’t want my
companions to know that I have found a friend
among Union men. Let me go out in the
woods a little while, and I will come back
sure when you are all ready to start for home.”
“You will only be giving yourself trouble
if you do that,” said Leon, who thought his
rebel friend was taking a queer way to escape.
“As soon as we get your weapons we intend
to turn you all loose, to go where you please.”
“But I don’t want to go with those rebels,”
said the young soldier, earnestly. “I am a
Union man, and I went into the army because
I had to. I will come back, sure.”
“Well, go ahead, but don’t let anybody see
you.”
When Leon led the captured horse back to
his father’s side he found that the escort had
all been dismounted and disarmed, and were
now standing there and awaiting further
107orders. Some were disposed to be angry and
sullen, while others were laughing over what
they considered a first-class surprise. Mr.
Sprague was highly elated over it. He did
not show it, but there was something about
him that made Leon feel happy, too. The
goods that were captured that day must have
been worth $500,000.
“Now, Captain, you are all right, and I will
bid you good-day,” said Mr. Sprague. “You
can go ahead, and as fast as the teamsters
come up, we’ll send them on after you. Silas,
go back there and send up all the teamsters.”
“But suppose they don’t want to go?” said
Silas.
“Then leave them behind. If they want to
go and join the Confederate army, send them
up here; but if they want to stay and join the
Union forces, let them alone.”
“Colonel, I suppose I can say what I
please, can’t I?” said the rebel captain. “You
have got the dead-wood on me now, but it
won’t be long before I’ll come back. Then I
shall ask you for my sword.”
In a few minutes the teamsters began to
108come up, and, as they approached, Mr. Sprague
told them to fall in behind the escort, which
was marching down the road. Leon kept a
close watch on them, but didn’t count more
than thirty who wanted to go back to the Confederacy.
There must have been at least ten
of them who wanted to stay with the Union
men. The next thing was to turn the mules
around and start back home. This occupied
a good deal of time, for the mules were balky;
and some of them would not “back;” but
those five hundred men soon took the “balky”
out of them, and in half an hour more the
wagons were all turned around and the train
was on its way to Ellisville.
CHAPTER VI. THE MARCH HOMEWARD.
109
Leon remained beside his father until the
wagons were turned around, and when
he ordered the cavalry ahead to take its place
at the advance of the column, he went with
them. Forty wagons, and some of them
were loaded so heavily that four mules could
scarcely draw them. Everybody was pleased
with the performance. If all the wagon-trains
they captured were to be taken as easily as
that, they had no fear but that they should
have grub enough. Every driver’s seat was
filled with men who thought that they preferred
riding to walking, and they all joined
in and sang, at the top of their voices:
“John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave.”
How the song got down there they didn’t
know. Probably some of those who had been
110prisoners in the hands of the Federals, and
there were a good many old soldiers in the
lot, had heard it sung by their captors, and
now that they were fighting for the Union
they resolved to imitate them as far as possible.
Finally, when Mr. Sprague appeared
riding along beside them, somebody thought
he ought to be praised for what he had done,
so he called out, in tones that were heard to
the farthest end of the line:
“Three cheers for Colonel Sprague. Hip,
hip, hurrah!”
All the men immediately around there joined
in in cheering Colonel Sprague—they had
given him a new title, now—and Mr. Sprague
took off his hat. As far as he went along
the line everybody cheered him, and there
was something in their way of talking to his
father that made Leon feel very happy. He
was bringing up the rear, leading his captured
horse as he went, until he found himself
opposite a wagon managed by his friend Tom
Howe. Leon was glad to see him, for he had
not spoken with him since they left Ellisville.
There were three men on the driver’s
111seat, and Tom was sitting on the knees of one
and handling the reins over his four-mule
team as if he had been used to it all his life.
“G’lang here!” he shouted when he saw
Leon riding by. “We don’t take no slack
from anybody. But say, Leon, you will stand
by me, won’t you?”
“Of course I will stand by you,” said Leon.
“But I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do you see that leading muel there, that
white one?” said Tom, pointing out the animal
in question. “Well, that’s mine. There
ain’t been anybody to lay a claim to him and
I want him.”
“I guess you can have him,” said Leon.
“But why don’t you take a horse?”
“I would rather have the muel than that
horse you are leading by the bits. Where
did you get him?”
“I got these weapons,” said Leon, showing
the revolver and sword he carried about his
waist and the carbine he held in his hand,
“from a young fellow who gave them up to
me without being asked. He has gone off in
the bushes, now, to get out of sight of the other
112members of the escort, but he’ll be back
directly.”
“Who let him go into the bushes?” inquired
one of the men who was sitting on the
driver’s seat with Tom.
“I did.”
“Well, he has taken a rough way to escape.
Why didn’t he stay here and march away with
his squad?”
“But he don’t want to escape,” said Leon.
“He is a Union man, and he wants to go
home with us.”
“You are the most confiding man I ever
saw. You will never see him again.”
“Then I shall have a horse and weapons to
give to somebody who needs them. I don’t
need them myself. When you want to get that
mule, Tom, you come to me.”
“I’ll do it,” said Tom, as he unwound his
lash and gave the leading white mule a cut
with the whip to make him pull faster; whereupon
the mule’s ears came back and he kicked
with both hind feet in the direction of the
wagon, barely missing the wheel-mule’s head.
Leon laughed heartily. “Well, you see, he
113hasn’t been taught to pull in a wagon. This
is his first attempt, but he is gay on horseback,
and I’ll bet on it. I’ll teach him in two days
so that he won’t kick.”
Leon urged his horse on ahead to catch up
with the cavalry, but he had not made many
steps before the bushes parted at his side and
the young rebel who owned the steed he was
leading came out.
“Have they gone?” said he, and he acted
like one who felt overjoyed. “I told you I
would come back, and here I am. May I get
up and ride my horse?”
“Certainly,” said Leon, and he felt so delighted
to see the rebel that he could have
hugged him. He didn’t know what his father
would say to him for allowing that man to go
out in the bushes. He gave up the horse,
and the young fellow swung himself into the
saddle.
“I am glad you didn’t give him up to some
of your men who have no horses of their
own,” said the rebel, as he accompanied Leon
toward the head of the column. “My father
raised this animal, I broke him myself, and
114he’s got just the kind of a gait that I like.
Now, what are you going to do here in this
county? Are you going to rebel against the
Confederacy sure enough?”
“We have gone out already,” said Leon.
“I haven’t got a copy of the resolutions with
me, but you can see them when you get up to
Ellisville.”
“It beats anything I ever heard of,” exclaimed
the rebel, who burst out laughing
every time he thought of it. “The idea that
one county in the very heart of the Southern
Confederacy should cut loose from it and say
that they are Union men beats my time all
holler. I told my father about it—”
“Where is your father now?” interrupted
Leon.
“He is in the rebel army.”
“Was he conscripted?”
“No. We didn’t wait for that, but we
heard enough to let us know what Jeff Davis
was going to do. More than that, some of our
neighbors began to talk about hanging those
who did not believe as they did to the plates
of their own gallery, and as we could get into
115the cavalry by enlisting then, we rode down
to the county-seat one day and gave our
names in.”
“Have you been in any fights?”
“Two or three; but, mind you, I always
shot high. I never drew a bullet on a Union
man in my life. I live only three or four
miles from where you stopped us, and I really
wish the authorities of Jones county would
give me permission to go back and get my
mother.”
“Do you think your father would come up
here after that?”
“Of course he would. We have done nothing
but think and talk about what you fellows
are doing here ever since we have been
in the army. There was a distinct understanding
between my father and myself that
whoever escaped first should bring my mother
here.”
“Well, Mr.— Mr.—,” began Leon.
“Dawson is my name,” said the rebel.
“If you turn out to be all right I will go
with you,” said Leon.
“Will you?” exclaimed the rebel, so highly
116excited that he could hardly speak plainly.
“I know we will succeed, for you have been
in fights enough to know what it means.”
“I don’t understand you,” said Leon. “This
is as near as I have come to being in a fight.”
“What! Capturing our wagon-train? You
don’t tell me! Well, I have seen men who
had been in three or four battles that showed
more nervousness than you did. You were
not excited a bit.”
Leon very wisely concluded that he would
not say anything more on this subject just
then. He never was more excited in his life
than when he rode along the line and demanded
the rebel’s weapons. If Dawson
thought he wasn’t excited, so much the better
for him.
“I certainly thought you had been where
you had seen men knocked down by the cart-load,”
said Dawson, looking at Leon to see
what he was made of. “I have been where I
have seen a whole platoon laid out at one fire,
but I never go into action without feeling
afraid. After this trouble is all over I would
like to compare notes with you.”
117“To see how many times I am afraid?”
asked Leon. “I don’t care to compare notes
with you on that, for I know I shall feel afraid
all the time. I’ve got one chum here who
won’t haul in his shingle one inch to please
anybody, and we’ll ask him to go with us.”
“Two men are all we want,” said Dawson.
“By the way, there was a friend of mine deserted
the camp night before last, and he stole
the wagon-master’s horse to help him along.
I don’t suppose you have seen anything of
him, have you?”
“We have a rebel up to Ellisville, and he
says that was the way he got away. But his
horse and weapons have been taken from
him.”
“That’s all right. You wanted him to
prove to you that he was true-blue before you
let him have his fire-arms. But he’s all hunky-dory.
He told you about this wagon-train?
I never saw him in a fight with Federals when
he pretended to show any vim about it, but
you give him rebels to shoot at and you’ll
hear something drop. He hasn’t got the
smallest sympathy for a Confederate. Why,
118they had him with a rope around his neck,
and were going to hang him.”
“He never said anything to us about that,”
said Leon, in surprise.
“It happened on the very morning that
father and I went down to enlist,” said Dawson,
“and the way they acted made us believe
that when they got through with him they
were coming to see us. We rushed into his
house and did some good talking to save the
man’s neck, and when they let him go he got
onto his horse and went down to the county-seat
with us. But didn’t he give the rebels
a good blessing!”
“He could say what he had a mind to in
your presence, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir; and he laid down the law in good
shape, I tell you. There are six men he wants
to find, and they are the men who had the
rope around his neck. What are you going to
do with the prisoners you capture in battle?”
“I am sure I don’t know,” said Leon, with
a laugh. “We haven’t got any yet.”
“You haven’t been in a fight yet? How
many men have you?”
119“We had about three hundred fighting
men, but first one Union family has come in,
and then another, until we have a thousand
men able to bear arms. Father said that
about three hundred fighting men were all
we had when this war broke out about a year
ago, but they have been coming in from all
sides. One man I know here has come from
the mountains of Tennessee. I tell you we
are going to make a good fight if the rebels
get after us.”
“I believe you; and these men you have
now won’t be a patching to what you will
have by and by. But say,” added Dawson,
as they drew up in the rear of the cavalry,
“do you really think you will be able to go
with me to get my mother?”
“That depends entirely on what my father
says. If he continues to let me do as I please,
as he always has done, I’ll go with you.
There is no chance of being captured down
there, I suppose?”
“Not in the least. Mobile is their nearest
headquarters, and we can slip in there and
get away again without any one being the
120wiser for it. It can be done just as easy as
falling off a log.”
“Well, you stay here and I will go on and
ride by my father. I will tell him about you
and see what he has to say.”
Leon turned out and hurried on ahead to
meet his father, who was riding alone in advance
of the column, with his hat drawn over
his eyes, as if he were thinking deeply.
When he saw who the new-comer was he
pushed back his hat, and beamed upon him
with a smile that reminded the boy of old
times.
“I tell you, father, you have done one good
act in capturing this train,” said Leon.
“What were you thinking of?”
“Oh, there are lots of things to come after
this,” said Mr. Sprague. “We have got to
whip the rebels in order to keep the train.
Where’s your horse?”
“The owner has got him;” and taking this
as his starting-point, Leon went on to give his
father as much of the history of Dawson as
he was acquainted with. When he told about
the rebels having a rope around the neck of
121that man in camp his father was hardly prepared
to believe it.
“But do you think the man honest?”
asked Mr. Sprague.
“I know he is. No boy could talk as feelingly
of his mother as he did and tell a lie
about it. Now, if you will let me go down there
and bring his family up here, we will make
two good soldiers by the operation.”
“We will see about it when the time
comes,” said Mr. Sprague.
That was enough for Leon, who reined his
horse out of the road and halted until Dawson
came up. Somehow he had taken a great
fancy for the young rebel. There was something
so honest about him that Leon put
strong faith in everything he said. He drew
up beside Dawson, and the latter’s face grew
more radiant than ever when Leon said that
his father would “see about it.”
“That is as good as saying that I may go,
if something doesn’t turn up in the meantime.
Now, the next thing will be to get Tom to go
with us. I shall feel a heap better with him
alongside of me.”
122It was a long journey toward Ellisville,
and the mules walked so slowly that it was
almost midnight when they got there. Following
the instructions of Mr. Sprague, the
wagons were drawn up in a park in the grove,
the mules were watered at the river and
staked out where they had plenty of food,
and the men left of their own accord and
went to bed. There was no posting of sentries
about the wagons to see that some backwoodsman
did not slip up there to steal anything,
for such a thing as theft was never
heard of in that county. They knew that the
things would be in the wagons in the morning
in just as good shape as they were then.
When Leon and Dawson, after hitching their
horses and foddering them, turned to go to
the opposite side of the grove, the place
where that rebel was under guard, they came
across Tom Howe, who had his coat off and
was building a fire.
“Why, Tom, come with us,” said Leon. “I
am going to get something to eat before I go
to bed.”
“Well, sir, you can go and get it, for you
123are one of these hungry fellows who always
want something,” replied Tom. “Do you see
that muel? I ain’t a-going to take my eyes
off of him until your father gives him into my
possession.”
“You haven’t had any supper, have you?”
“Nary supper. And I ain’t a-going to have
any, either, until I get that there muel in my
hands.”
“You can come back here and sleep. Tom,
this is Dawson, whom I want you to be friends
with. He was in that squad, but he gave up
his horse and weapons to me without being
asked.”
The moment Leon referred to Dawson Tom
put his hands behind his back as if he didn’t
want to say how glad he was to see him.
Leon noticed the movement and went on with
something which he knew would bring Tom
to his senses. Tom had a mother, his father
was dead, and he fairly worshipped her.
“He is going down after his mother, and I
am going, too. And we want you to go with
us.”
“Howdy!” exclaimed Tom, and his hands
124came out and he shook Dawson as if he was a
friend from whom he had long been separated.
“Then he’s all right, of course. I’ll go,
but you must get my muel for me.”
The boys bent their steps toward the hotel,
for they knew that the landlord was a man
who was determined to do what he could to
help along the cause. He knew that at least
a portion of the men who had gone out to
capture that wagon-train had no place to get
anything to eat, and he cooked up a lot of
food for them, and had it spread out on his
dining-room tables. He had remained up all
night, and the noise the men made when
they returned almost drove him wild.
“Who said those who took part with us in
this useless struggle would go hungry?” said
he, standing on the porch, and welcoming
the men as they came up, and sending them
all into the dining-room. “Ah! here’s Leon
and Tom Howe, I declare. Where did you
get shot, boys? And a rebel, as sure as I
am a foot high. Where did you take him
up?”
“I am a rebel no longer,” replied Dawson.
125“In spite of my clothes I am as good a Union
man as there is in the county.”
“You are just the lads we want,” said the
landlord. “Haven’t had anything to eat yet?
No dinner, either? Then go right into the
dining-room. You will find the President
and the Secretary of War in there.”
The boys went in and found the two officers
sitting in a remote corner engaged in earnest
conversation. They talked in low tones,
and it was evident that they did not want
anybody to hear what they were discussing,
so the boys sat down and began an attack
upon the food. The way the landlord’s
bacon, eggs and corn-bread disappeared before
them would have astonished that gentleman
could he have witnessed it. It made no difference
to them that the food was cold, for
the coffee was hot, and they finally stopped
because they were ashamed to eat any more.
By the time they had finished eating their
supper the two high officers ceased their consultation,
and Mr. Sprague hauled up a chair
to the nearest table and sat down. Leon decided
that this was his time. Tom Howe
126would certainly sleep better if he knew that
the mule was his own.
“Father, there’s a white mule out there in
the train, and Tom Howe wants him.”
“Well, he can have him, I guess,” said Mr.
Sprague. “Anybody else laid any claim to
him?”
“No, sir; Tom is the only one. And he
has taken a mighty queer animal to carry him
through this war. He kicks.”
“Tom will have to manage that to suit
himself. Why don’t he wait until we can
capture a horse?”
“Because he would rather have that mule
than anything else.”
“Tell him to take him, and welcome.”
Leon found his companions in the living-room,
and when he told them that the Secretary
of War had given Tom the mule he
wanted, Tom was delighted. He promised
the others that he would get to work early in
the morning to break him of kicking, and
wanted them to come over and see how it was
done, and then turned away to his own camp,
while Leon and Dawson started out to find
127the camp of the rebel who was kept under
guard.
“There’s his lean-to right there,” said
Leon, after walking some distance up the
road. “Do you see any comparison between
that sentry and the ones you left behind? I
mean, do they sit down and warm themselves
by a fire when they are left on duty?”
“Not much, they don’t,” answered Dawson,
with a laugh. “If you had our officer of the
day here he would snatch that fellow bald-headed.
He ought to get up, hold his arms
at support and pace his beat.”
“Who is it that the officer of the day
is going to snatch bald-headed?” asked
the sentry. He sat on a log with his rifle
beside him, and he was warming his hands
over the fire. He seemed to think that he
could see everything that was going on, and
he thought that was all that was required of
him.
“The officer of the rebel army, if there
was one here, would take you to task for not
pacing your beat,” said Leon.
“Sho! What would he do that for?” asked
128the man. “That rebel hasn’t moved in there
without my seeing him, and he can’t get away.
Say, Johnny, are you asleep?”
“No; I am wide awake,” shouted a voice
from the inside. “I wanted to see the men
that came back with that wagon-train. Well—halloo!
Dawson,” exclaimed the rebel, who,
when he came out, caught sight of his old
comrade in arms. “You’re here, ain’t you?”
The two men shook hands as though they
had not seen each other for years. Dawson
then explained how the capture was effected,
and the rebel’s eyes fairly flashed as he listened
to it. When he ceased speaking the
rebel asked permission for Dawson to come
under his lean-to and share his blankets with
him, and as the sentry did not find any fault
Leon readily granted it. When he had seen
the two tuck themselves away preparatory to
a good sleep and had exchanged a few words
with their guard, Leon turned about and made
the best of his way to the hotel.
CHAPTER VII. BREAKING THE MULE.
129
What Mr. Sprague was talking about
when Leon and his companions went in
to eat their suppers was whether or not it would
be a good plan to send a party of cavalrymen,
say a dozen or more, down to the little creek
that separated the two counties to bring them
warning of a Confederate force which was
coming to subdue them; for Mr. Sprague was
certain that those men would be along before
a great while. The rebels were not the men
to stand still and allow themselves to be
robbed of $500,000.
“Their scouts will be a long ways ahead of
the main body, and by the time they get here
we can be safe in the swamp,” said Mr.
Sprague. “The cavalrymen are all good
shots, and by the time they get through with
130one fire there won’t be so many of them to
follow up our men.”
“They will shoot them down, I suppose?”
said Mr. Knight.
“Of course they will have to take their
chances on that. While all the rest of them
are asleep one of them can be standing
guard.”
“I think it would be a good plan. We’ll
send cavalrymen down there every morning
to relieve them. Perhaps you had better detail
some guards for to-morrow morning. But
do you say you captured that train without
firing a shot?”
“It is the truth,” said Mr. Sprague. “One
of the soldiers said it was the prettiest surprise
he every saw. The men were all prompt, and
they obeyed my whistle just like clock-work.”
The next morning when Leon awoke and
stretched himself on the bench which served
him in lieu of a bed he felt like a new man.
He was not accustomed to spending so many
hours in the saddle, his long ride of the day
before had wearied him, and when he went to
slumber he “slept for keeps,” as he expressed
131it. He got up, and, after washing his hands
and face, went out on the porch and saw a
party of a dozen men gathered about a tree a
short distance away. There was a white mule
in the party, and three or four men were
fussing around her.
“Tom has got to work to break the ‘muel,’
as lie calls it, from kicking,” said Leon, “and
I am going down to see how it is done. He
thinks he has got a prize there, and I hope he
has.”
When Leon got up with the crowd he found
that the mule had been securely fastened to a
tree, and that there were two men engaged in
holding her head up. You may have noticed
that when a mule wants to kick she always
puts her head down, and by holding her
head up it was impossible for her to kick
Tom, who, by bringing her tail around by
her side, was busy in tying a stone that
weighed two or three pounds, and was wrapped
up in a thick rag so that it would not bruise
her heels, fast to the end of it. Leon saw
through the plan at once, and he laughed
heartily.
132“There, now, I reckon we’re all right,”
said Tom, as he took a finishing knot in the
string with which the stone was tied. “Kick,
now, and we will see how you will come out.
Let go her head, boys.”
When Tom said this he raised the stone and
let it down against the mule’s heels with a
sounding whack, and the men let go their
hold and backed away. In an instant you
could not have told where that mule belonged.
Her heels were in the air all the time; but no
matter how high the stone went, it always
came down, and the further it went, it came
back to its place and punished her heels severely.
Sometimes she seemed as if she
would kick herself over her head, she stood
up so straight. The men stood around and
laughed heartily, until the mule, after trying
in vain to rid herself of the contrivance,
stopped her kicking and turned around and
looked at it. She seemed to know that it was
fast to her, and after looking first on one side
and then on the other, and trying with more
energy than before to throw off the useless
appendage, which she knew did not belong
133there, she drew her haunches under her,
looked at Tom and broke out into a faint
bray, as if begging him to take it off.
“There, sir, she is done with her kicking
for all time,” said one of the men.
“Tom,” said Leon, “don’t go near her.
You know how treacherous a mule can be.”
The man promptly stepped up to the mule,
undid the stone, lifted her tail, and did other
pranks which would have led even a mule
who did not know how to kick to lay back her
ears.
“I said I would break her of kicking in
less than two days, and we have broken her in
less than half an hour,” said Tom, gleefully.
“Now watch me and see me ride to camp.”
Tom mounted in regular Texas fashion,
placing his left hand upon the mule’s shoulder
and throwing his right leg over her back,
and with a “G’lang there, muel!” went down
the road at a furious pace. She loped beautifully,
and Tom wasn’t even moved, although
he rode bare-back. Leon was satisfied that
he had got a prize, after all.
“Now all he wants is to go around that
134mule forty times a day, lifting her tail and
patting her, and she won’t kick him,” said
the man who undid the stone. “I just know,
for I’ll bet on it.”
When Leon had seen the mule broken and
Tom ride away, he turned his steps toward
the camp of the rebels to see how they were
getting on. There was another sentry on
guard this time, and he was engaged in a favorite
occupation, sitting on a log with his
rifle beside him, smoking a cob pipe and
warming his hands at the fire. The two rebels
were standing in the door of the lean-to, and
they greeted Leon heartily. After exchanging
a few words with them Leon said:
“I am going to speak to father about you
to-day, and I think he will let you out. I am
going home this morning, and I want Dawson
to ride with me.”
“If he lets me out I will go and be glad of
the chance,” said Dawson. “But what are
you going home for?”
“To let my mother know that I shan’t be
home to-night. I reckon we are going down
after your mother.”
135“By George! That’s the best news I have
heard since I have been a prisoner,” exclaimed
Dawson. “You will see father here in less
than a week, and you don’t want to let him
get into any fight where the rebels are. He
don’t take any prisoners.”
Leon next bent his steps toward the hotel
to get his breakfast. In the living-room he
met the landlord, who had three or four men
around him, and was talking gleefully of the
manner in which the wagon-train had been
captured the day before.
“To think that our boys never fired a shot,
and there were twenty-five of them rebels who
were hired to defend it,” said he. “Now here’s
Leon,” he added, taking the boy’s right hand
in his own, throwing his left arm around
his shoulder, and affectionately drawing him
up to his side. “Who would think that this
boy would watch over his father? He gets
close up to his side, and if anyone pops him
over he is going to see about it.”
“You will have to get away from this place,
Mr. Faulkner,” said Leon. “Your house is
right on the main road, and the first party
136of rebels who come in here will set fire to
it.”
“I know all about that,” said Mr. Faulkner,
with a laugh. “I expect everything I
have got will go up in smoke. But you see
they won’t burn anything but the house.
Your father is going to lend me some of the
wagons as soon as they are unloaded, and I
am going to pile on everything I have got
and take them all up to the swamp. I should
like to see the rebels get them out of there.”
“So would I,” said Leon.
“I can’t give you as good a breakfast as I
could once,” added Mr. Faulkner. “Bacon,
eggs, corn-bread and coffee—I am almost
out of coffee, now that I think of it. I shall
be all out if you haven’t got some in those
wagons you captured yesterday. Go on and
get your breakfast, the whole of you. There’s
many a better man than you and I dare be
who is living on worse food, and he’s just as
good a Union man as though he stood in our
ranks.”
Leon went into the dining-room and found
his father and Mr. Knight sitting there by
137themselves, and he concluded that it was a
good time to talk to them about the rebels
who were kept under guard.
“I have been thinking about them all the
morning,” said Mr. Sprague, when Leon had
explained things to him, “and I don’t see the
need of keeping them under guard any
longer; do you, Knight?”
“No, I don’t. I say let them out.”
“Well, I will go back with you and turn
them loose,” said Mr. Sprague. “That will
be the way we’ll work it. As fast as any
rebels come in here and say they are on our
side we’ll take their weapons and horses away
from them, if they have any, and hold them
until they prove that they are just as they
should be.”
“Well, what do you say to my going down
to Dawson’s house after his mother?” said
Leon.
“What do you think about it, Knight?”
“Why I say let the boy go. He has proved
long ago that he knows how to handle himself
in a tight place; yesterday, for instance;
and he will be just as safe as he would be
138here in camp. By the way, Leon, we have
given your father a new title. He says the
Secretary of War is too long for him, and so
we have promoted him to Colonel. He likes
that better. Maybe if you conduct yourself
all right he will make you aid-de-camp.”
We are sorry to say that Mr. Knight did
not pronounce this word correctly, and if
there had been some boys like you, who are
fresh from their books, they would have seen
a good many other words whose spelling
bothered him. But he knew one thing that
had evidently slipped the President’s mind.
If his father had been promoted to colonel,
Leon thought that was being promoted backwards.
But then this thing would not last
more than a year or two, and it did not make
much difference to him what people said about
it. He got no money for the position he held,
none of the officers got any, and he was willing
to do what he could for the sake of the
county.
“I don’t care if my father never promotes
me to anything,” said Leon. “If he will let
me stay close by him, so as to be on hand if
139anything happens to him, I shall be satisfied.”
The party having finished their breakfast
arose from the table at the same time, and
Mr. Sprague went out with Leon to call upon
the rebels. On the way he talked more plainly
to Leon than he had ever done before.
“I shan’t appoint you aid-de-camp,” said
Mr. Sprague.
“I know why,” said Leon. “If you should
do a thing like that, the fellows who are not
as high in authority as you are would think
that you were giving me a place to keep me
out of danger. I don’t want anybody to think
that of me.”
“Well, yes; that has something to do with
it. But you would be in just as much danger
there as you would anywhere else. I don’t
want you hanging around me all the time.
The men think you are doing it on purpose
to shield me.”
“I confess that that is what I was thinking
of.”
“Don’t do it any more. Of course I shall
be in the thickest of the fight, if we have any,
140but I don’t want you to be there. That’s the
reason I am giving my consent to allow you
to go down after Dawson’s mother.”
“Do you say I may go?” exclaimed Leon,
joyfully.
“Yes; but I want you first to let your
mother know we are safe and what is the reason
we don’t come home.”
“I’ll go and get Tom and Dawson to go
with me. By the way, Tom has got his mule
broken.”
“So that he won’t kick?” asked Mr.
Sprague, in surprise.
“Yes, sir; and he broke him in less than
half an hour.”
Leon then went on to tell how Tom had
operated to break the mule, and when he described
her kicking he made his father laugh
heartily. By this time they had reached
the lean to and found the two rebels enjoying
their breakfast. They arose to their feet as
Mr. Sprague approached, knowing that the
Secretary of War had much authority over
their prisoners, but he motioned them to keep
their seats. Even the sentry got up, put down
141his plate—for the rebels had helped him most
bountifully—and held his rifle in a way that
was intended to present arms. But then the
Secretary didn’t know whether the motion
was properly executed or not. He touched
his hat, however, and after bidding the rebels
good-morning and lifting his hat once more
out of respect to the woman who sat at the
head of the table, he turned again to the
sentry.
“I would like to see all the men who are
on guard with you,” said he. “They are
around here, I suppose?”
“Oh, yes, sir; they are around here,” said
the sentry. Then lifting his voice he called
out: “All you guards turn out. The Secretary
of War wants you. Come a-lumbering!”
The men came in a hurry, three of them,
some bareheaded, some swinging on their
bullet-pouches as they hastened through the
bushes, and all eager to see what the Secretary
of War wanted. Like the good soldiers they
were, they concluded that there was some
business to engage in, and they were impatient
to do it. But when they found out what he
142wanted they were just as pleased, all the same.
Mr. Sprague told them in so many words that
the rebels were all right, and from this time
they were released from all sentry duty. The
rebels were just as free in their camp as they
were themselves.
“Colonel, I want to shake your hand for
that,” said the owner of the lean-to, and as he
spoke he got up from the table and came out.
“Now I want all of you boys to understand
one thing. You have done nothing but call
me ‘Johnny’ ever since I have been in camp,
and now I want you to stop it. My name is
Roberts, and I am as good a Union man as
the best of you. If you don’t believe it, wait
until we get into a fight and I will show you.“
All this was said in a perfectly good-natured
way, and the guards, on being sent
back to their lean-tos, promised that they
would address him as Roberts ever afterward.
They had called him “Johnny” because they
did not know any other name for him.
“Now, Dawson, I am going to start for
home,” said Leon. “Come with me and I
will get your horse and weapons for you.”
143When Leon and Dawson turned away the
former was surprised to see standing at his
side another boy, Newman by name, who was
enough like Carl Swayne to have been his
brother, except in one particular. Newman
did not proclaim himself so much in favor of
the secessionists as Carl did, but in every
other way, so far as meanness was concerned,
they were a good team. Leon was not the
only one about there who believed that Newman
was a rebel at heart, and that if he had
his way he would have arrested every Union
man in the county. He noticed that Newman
did not go with them when they assaulted
the train—he had something else that demanded
his immediate attention; but he noticed,
too, that when the expedition came back
Newman had as much to say as anybody.
There was one thing about Newman that did
not look exactly right to Leon. In the early
part of the year, when there was a good deal
of talk about the secession of Jones county,
this Newman’s father had piled all his worldly
goods into a one-horse wagon and started for
Mobile; but in two months’ time he came
144back. There was more fighting going on
there than there was in Jones county, he said,
and as he was a man of peace and did not believe
in contests of any kind, he thought he
and his family had better come back and stay
in their own house until the trouble was over.
Mind you, that was the story he told; whether
or not it was the truth remains to be seen.
“Well, Leon, we got ’em, didn’t we?” was
the way in which Newman began the conversation.
“Got whom?” inquired Leon, and he was
not very civil about it, either. He wished
that Newman would keep to his own side of
the walk and let him alone.
“Why, the rebels, of course,” said Newman.
“You have got one them with you
right now.”
“How many of them did you capture?”
inquired Leon, poking his elbow into Dawson’s
ribs when he saw that he was about to
reply.
“I captured one, but I let him go. You
know the President said we wasn’t going to
take any prisoners.”
145“Yes, I know. But what made you let
him go?”
“Oh, he told me such a funny story about
his wife being sick, and all that, that I
couldn’t bear to keep him captive. So I just
told him to clear out.”
“And you let him take his weapons with
him?”
“Of course,” replied Newman; and then
finding that Leon was getting onto rather
dangerous ground he changed the subject, for
he had come there to ask a favor. “Say,
Leon, do you suppose that your father would
give me one of them muels that we captured
yesterday? I reckon I’ve got as much right
to them as he has.”
“Well, I reckon you haven’t,” replied
Leon, indignantly.
“Just because he’s a high officer, do you
think he has more right to property that we
capture than them that takes it?” asked Newman,
getting mad in his turn. “He gave
Tom Howe a muel, and Tom didn’t do any
more than I did.”
“What’s the use of telling such an outrageous
146falsehood? You was not there. Did
you see me?”
“Yes, I saw you.”
“What did I do? Did you see me when I
ran from this man, and he followed after me,
swinging his sword in his hand?”
“Eh? Oh, yes, I saw you,” said Newman,
looking surprised. “He came pretty near
catching you, too, and he would if that man
hadn’t come up and poked a revolver in his
face. Who was that, do you know?”
“Well, Newman, I don’t believe you can get
a mule to ride during this war,” said Leon,
once more turning his steps towards the hotel.
“You see Tom wants to do something with this
mule, and you don’t. You simply want him to
ride around, and when the fight comes you will
be miles away. That is, if you are on our side
at all,” said Leon to himself. “I wouldn’t be
afraid to bet that you will stay around here and
lead the rebels to our place of concealment.”
Newman thrust his hands into his pockets,
pushed his hat on the back of his head, and
looked after Leon as he walked away with the
rebel by his side.
147“I’ll bet that boy lied to me when he spoke
of that fellow being after him with a sword,”
said he, “and that he ever run from him a
step. I am no good for a spy. I haven’t got
my wits about me. But his father will give
me one of those mules or I’ll know the reason
why. It is most time for the rebels to come
up here, and when they do come, my finemy fine lad,
I’ll have that horse of yours.”
“Who is that fellow, anyway?” asked
Dawson, after they had left Newman behind.
“You don’t seem to like him very well.”
“Neither would you if you knew him as
well as I do,” replied Leon. “Ever since I
got into a scrape with those logs that fellow
has been down on me, and said he didn’t see
why I should come out all right when other
men had lost their lives in attempting the
same thing.”
“You don’t bear him any ill-will for that, I
hope?” said Dawson. “He didn’t dare do it,
although I don’t know what danger you got
into.”
“I ran out on the logs and started a jam,
and Tom Howe fell into the water and I saved
148him. But that isn’t what I have against
him,” said Leon. “You see, Newman’s father
has never said where he stood. When he
came back to this county, and found that we
were in earnest in threatening to secede, then
he wanted an office, but the men were too
sharp to give it to him.”
“Ah! that’s the trouble, is it? Let him
go in and serve as a private. That’s what my
father and I intend to do.”
“But he don’t want to serve as a private.
He wants the position that father holds, so
that he can boss around the men and have
nothing else to do. Father would give it to
him in a minute if he thought he was able to
fill it, but you see he don’t. And mind you,
I don’t say this out loud, but I believe it to
be so, he says if he can’t be an officer he will
betray us all.”
“Ho-ho!” said Dawson, while a gleam of
intelligence shot across his face. “He is going
to turn Benedict Arnold, is he? By gracious!
You fellows have something to contend
with, haven’t you? A spy! Well, let him
come on and see how much he will make by it.”
149“Now, don’t say that out loud,” said Leon
earnestly, “for I don’t know that it is so. I
only judge him by his actions. Now, here’s
the place where your weapons were left.
We’ll go up and see the President.”
“I don’t look fit to go into the President’s
office,” said Dawson, looking down at his
clothes. “I want to get home and see my
wardrobe, so that I can get some clothes more
befitting my station in life.”
“O come on,” said Leon, with a hearty
laugh. “Ten to one you will find the President
with a pairpair of jean breeches on, and a
pair of cowhide boots. He is like all the rest
of us, but then he will be glad to see you, for
you were a rebel once.”
“There’s where you make a mistake,” said
Dawson. “I never was a rebel, although I
wear the clothes. Introduce me as a Union
man forced into the rebel army.”
At this moment Leon opened the door that
gave entrance into the office of the high dignitary
of Jones county, where they found him
leaning back in his chair and conversing with
three or four men. He was just such a man
150as Leon said he was—to the manor born. He
didn’t act as though he considered himself
better than other men simply because he was
President. Dawson took off his hat, while the
other men did not remove theirs. He followed
Leon to a corner in which several stand of
fire-arms were stowed, and assisted him in
picking out his own weapons. Leon gave him
the sword and revolver, and motioned him to
buckle them around him, while with the carbine
in his hand he approached the President’s
chair. When he got through talking with the
men he looked up to see what Leon had to say.
“Mr. Knight, here’s a good man I have
got for us,” said he. “His name is Dawson,
and although he wears the rebel uniform, he
is as much of a Union man as anyone here.”
“Howdy, Dawson,” said the President, nodding
his head, “So you are coming over to
side with us, are you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Dawson. “I was obliged
to go into the rebel ranks to escape being
hung.”
“He wants his horse and his weapons, too,”
added Leon. “Father says he is all right.”
151“Let him have them,” said the President.
Leon promptly handed over the carbine.
“He wants to go home to-night to get his
mother,” said he. “There are two of us, myself
and Tom Howe, going with him.”
“I heard all about it from your father,”
said Mr. Knight. “Now, be careful of yourself,
Leon. If you should get captured it
would drive the first colonel I have got crazy.”
The boy promised that he would look out
for himself, and, with a salute from Dawson,
they opened the door and went down the
stairs. They saw that Mr. Sprague had already
hitched the mules to the wagons and
hauled them down in front of the hotel
where they could be examined by all the
principal men of the county. Before they
had taken many steps they saw Newman
walk up to the Secretary of War and accost
him.
CHAPTER VIII. REBELS IN THE REAR.
152
“What did I tell you?” said Leon,
turning to his companion. “Newman
is going to strike father for one of those
mules. Let us go up and see how he comes
out.”
“I don’t think I ought to give you a mule,
Newman,” said Mr. Sprague, as Leon and
Dawson approached within hearing distance.
“You were not with us at all, yesterday.”
Newman glanced at Leon and saw there
was one lie nailed, but he had become so accustomed
to being caught that way that he
hardly changed color. He thrust his hands
into his pockets, looked up the road toward
the lean-tos, and said:
“Well, you see one of our cows had strayed
away and I was afraid she might not come up,
so I went into the woods to find her.”
153“And you thought that cow was of more
use to the county than stopping the train, did
you?”
“It was of more use to us, ’cause, you see,
we wouldn’t have had any milk to put in our
coffee.”
“And you have milk in your coffee every
day, do you? That’s more than I have, and
I have eight or nine cows on my place.”
“Well, can I have the mule? That’s what
I want to know.”
“No, I don’t think you can.”
“You have given one to Tom Howe and
never asked him what he was going to do
with it,” said Newman, hotly.
“But I knew what Tom was going to do
with his mule before I gave it to him. Whenever
we get ready to go out and capture a train
Tom will be on hand, and that’s more than I
can say in regard to you.”
“Then you won’t give me the mule?”
“No, I can’t. You will have to go to
somebody else and get one. It is Government
property that comes into my hands, and I am
bound to take the best of care of it.”
154“I’ll get even with you for this some way
or another,” said Newman, starting to walk
off.
“Newman,” said Mr. Sprague, sternly,
“come back here.”
“Well, now, when I come back you just
blow a horn to let me know it, will you?”
replied Newman, still continuing on his way.
“If I ask you once more I shall put you
under arrest,” said Mr. Sprague. “I am not
in the habit of giving orders twice.”
While he was speaking there were certain
other parties, who had arrived with a wagon,
who happened to overhear the conversation
that passed between Mr. Sprague and Newman.
They dropped whatever they were
about and came up to see about it, for one of
the disputants had got so angry that he raised
his voice a good deal above its natural key.
One of them was Bud McCoy, the man who
had threatened to burn Mr. Swayne’s house
before he got out of it. He did not like
Newman any too well, for he believed that
the young man was more in favor of secessionists
than he was of the Union men.
155“Come back here, you scoundrel!” said
Bud, shaking his fists in the other’s face.
“Oh, now, Bud, you haven’t anything to do
with it,” said Newman, and he retraced his
steps very slowly.
“Come faster than that,” said Bud, tucking
up his shirt-sleeves. “I will show you that
I have something to do with it.”
“I will tell my father what you are doing
up here, and perhaps he will think we had
better go back to Mobile,” said Newman.
“Well, go back to Mobile. You belong
there among the rebels more’n you do among
these Union men. Your father has not got
anything to do with this business. We’ve
been talking about playing soldier for a long
time, and now that we have got a constitution
we are going to act. You’ll see that there is
a big difference between the two.”
“One moment, Bud,” said Mr. Sprague,
when he saw that Newman had been frightened
sufficiently to put a little sense into him.
“You may not have been aware of the fact,”
he added, addressing himself to Newman,
“but you were treating me in a way that I
156don’t like when you refused to come back here.
Perhaps I have more authority in this county
than you think for. You talked about getting
even with me. How are you going to do it?”
“I was only fooling,” said Newman. “I
didn’t mean nothing by it.”
“Well, hereafter, when you feel aggrieved
by an officer, don’t say that you will get even
with him in some way. That looks to me as
though you had something on your mind.”
“I haven’t; I haven’t, honor bright,” said
Newman, wondering if Mr. Sprague knew anything
further. There had been talk between his
father and some of the rebel officers who had
their quarters in Mobile in regard to betraying
all the chief men of the Jones-County Confederacy
into their hands, and this was one reason
that brought him back there. But Newman
didn’t suppose that anybody but his own
family knew anything about it.
“It looks mighty suspicious,” continued
Mr. Sprague. “But I can’t give you that
mule. It is not my business, anyway. It belongs
to the quartermaster’s department, and
he is the man you must see.”
157Mr. Sprague turned on his heel and went
away to inspect one of the wagons, and Leon
and Dawson continued their walk toward
Roberts’ lean-to. To say that Leon was surprised
to hear his father talk in this way
would not express his feelings.
“I tell you your father can’t be too
strict when it comes to the pinch,” said Dawson.
“I didn’t know he had so much in him.
Well, you see he is high in authority, and it
won’t do to let ordinary men talk to him as
that Newman did. Say, that fellow knew
something he did not want to speak about.”
“That’s my idea exactly,” said Leon. “I’ll
keep watch on him, and if I find anything out
of the way with him I’ll arrest him and take
him before father.”
“If you do that he’ll shoot him.”
“My gracious! Has it come to that?” exclaimed
Leon, astonished beyond measure.
“Of course it has. I have seen three men
shot to death because they tried to desert the
army, and you have got to come down to that
way of doing business here. You will have
to be stricter, too, than they are in the army,
158for you have got less power to back you up.
Oh, you’re not going to have a picnic, I’ll tell
you that.”
Leon was thunderstruck, for he did not believe
that such things could take place in
Jones county. While he was thinking about
it they came up with Roberts, who had borrowed
a mule to take the place of the one that
had dropped dead during his rapid flight, and
was engaged in packing things into his
wagon. He said he was going deeper into the
swamp.
“You see these houses are right on the
main road, and the rebels who come in will
come from Perry county,” said he. “I don’t
propose to have what things I own burned up,
and so I am going to take them where it will
cost the Confederates some trouble to get at
them.”
“Well, say, Mr. Roberts, what do you suppose
they would do to you if they should succeed
in getting their hands on you?” asked
Leon.
“I deserted to the enemy, didn’t I?” asked
Roberts.
159“Yes, you did.”
“And I had my rebel clothes on when I
left their camp?”
Leon nodded; and Roberts, after looking at
him a moment, made a turn of a rope around
his neck, drew it up with his left hand and allowed
his head to fall over on one side.
“That’s what they would do with me,” said
Roberts, with a laugh. “I don’t suppose they
would shoot me, but they must catch me first.
I’m not going to be taken prisoner. And
Dawson, there, would come in for something of
the kind.”
Dawson smiled and said he well knew what
was coming if he allowed himself to be taken
prisoner, and thrust out his hand, adding:
“Well, I don’t suppose I shall see you
again until we get into our first fight. I am
going after my mother to-night.”
“So-long, old boy, and remember and
don’t let those Graybacks get a grip on you.”
“I’ll stay right there on the field until I
drop,” said Dawson, earnestly. “You’ll never
hear of my being hung.”
They turned off to find their horses, after
160which they drew a bee-line for Tom’s camp.
Leon didn’t have much to say. When men
like Dawson and Roberts could talk as they
did about falling into the hands of their old
comrades, it made him feel kind of anxious.
And if they would serve the deserters that
way, what would they do with him? He was
a traitor to the cause of Southern independence,
everybody on the Pascagoula river from
the swamps down knew who he was, and if
he should unfortunately fall into the hands of
the Confederates a captive, they would without
a doubt hang him without giving him
any trial at all. He had never been able to
look at it in this light before, and it made
him feel rather desperate. But here was a
fellow who would take ample revenge for his
death if such a thing should happen. It was
Tom Howe, who, when they found him, was
sitting at the foot of a tree, and he had just
been disposing of a substantial breakfast
which somebody had provided for him.
“Halloo, Leon! And you, Dawson, halloo!”
said Tom, getting upon his feet. “Well, if
you are going home now I am going with
161you. I have been around that muel forty
times, as that man told me to, petting her and
fooling in various ways, and she never offered
to kick me. But what’s the matter with you,
Leon? You act as though your last friends
had been gobbled up by the rebels.”
“Well, they haven’t been gobbled up yet,
but I am just thinking of what would happen
to them if they were gobbled,” said Leon.
“Do you know what they would do with you
if they caught you?”
“Hang me, I suppose. But you see, Leon,
these swamps are mighty big.”
“But you are going right among them to-night.”
“Oh, no,” said Dawson, quickly. “We’ll
not see a rebel from the time we leave here
until we get back. I’m not going to get you
in any fuss. If I thought there was a chance
I wouldn’t go myself.”
“But we are liable to be mistaken, you
know.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Dawson.
“I’ll ride on ahead, and the first glimpse
I see of anything suspicious I’ll warn you.
162You certainly will not be captured in that
way.”
Tom struck up a whistle, as if to show how
much he cared what the rebels might think it
worth while to do, and went to work about the
mule as though he had always owned her,
strapped a piece of gunny-sack to serve in lieu
of a saddle, felt his revolvers to make sure
that they were safe, and then announced that
he was ready. Their ride would have been
gloomy enough, for they did not meet a single
person on the way, had it not been for Dawson,
who was fairly alive with stories. He
was two or three years older than Leon, but,
like all boys who had lived much out-of-doors,
he was almost big enough to be considered a
man. He was young enough in his boyish
tastes and habits to be hail-fellow with Leon
and Tom, and reckless enough to add a spice
of danger to everything he engaged in. They
did not think they had been on their way a
great while before the plantation-house was
in view. Leon did not see anybody about.
The doors of the negro quarters were closed,
and so were the rear doors of the house; and
163even the pickaninnies, who were usually the
first to welcome him when he rode up to the
bars, were nowhere in sight.
“I wonder what’s been going on here?”
said Leon, involuntarily sinking his voice to
a whisper. “There are more people than this
in the house.”
“I should say there ought to be,” said Tom.
“We haven’t seen any, yet.”
“If it was a little nearer the lower end of
the county I should say that some rebels had
been calling here,” said Dawson, in an anxious
tone of voice. “I have seen many a house
look that way.”
Filled with forebodings, Leon hurried on
until he came opposite the front bars, and on
the way he saw a man lying down behind a
log with a rifle in his hand, and it was pointed
toward the other bank of the stream, which
here ran through Mr. Sprague’s property.
The moment the topmost bars rattled the
front door opened and his mother came out
on the porch. Thank goodness she was safe.
“Why, mother, what’s up?” cried Leon,
throwing himself off his horse and rushing
164up the steps with arms spread out. “When
I saw the house closed I supposed something
had happened.”
“Something has happened,” replied his
mother; and although her face was very pale,
her tightly-closed lips and the way in which
her hands trembled showed that she was trying
to keep down some rising emotion. “The
rebels are at it already.”
“At what?” asked Leon, while the other
boys got up close to her to hear what she had
to say.
“There have been two men over on the
other side of the creek, and they have got a
complete map made out of all the streams and
the places where they are fordable,” said his
mother.
“Why, how did you find it out?” asked Leon.
“One of the darkies discovered them, and
I slipped out very quietly and told Mr. Giddings
of it.”
“Wasn’t it lucky that I brought Giddings
here? I knew I was proposing a good thing
when I advised him to come. Well, what did
Giddings do?”
165“He took down his rifle and shot one of
the men,” said Mrs. Sprague, at the same time
clinging to Leon as if she were afraid that the
ghost of the slain man might come back.
“This war is going to be a horrible thing.
I wouldn’t see the thing happen again for all
the money the United States is worth. It
was the first thing of the kind I ever saw
done—”
“Why did you stay here and look at it?”
asked Leon. “How did he know that he
had a map? What made him shoot him, in
the first place?”
“Well, he was acting very sly, making use
of every tree and stump to cover him, so Mr.
Giddings thought he would shoot them both.
He went over there in our boat and got the man,
and he is out there now in one of our negro
cabins. And he hadn’t any more than
brought him over here before the other fellow
shot at him.”
“He didn’t hit him, I suppose?”
“No; but he made the bullet sing pretty
close to his head.”
“I reckon that Giddings had better stay
166here to-night and protect you,” said Leon,
after thinking a moment. “I am not coming
home to-night, and neither is father. We
had some work day before yesterday,” he
added, as if trying to draw her away from the
melancholy event she had witnessed. “We
captured forty wagons without firing a shot.
Here’s a man who was with them. Mother,
let me introduce Mr. Dawson. He is going
back into the country for his mother to-night,
and wants Tom and me to go with him.”
Mrs. Sprague smiled for the first time,
shook Dawson by the hand, said she was glad
to see him on the Union side if he did wear
those clothes on his back, and then she
turned to Tom Howe, who had just come in
from hitching the horses.
“As those rebels didn’t fire a shot at you
the other day you don’t know how it feels,”
said Mrs. Sprague.
“Who? Me? No, ma’am. I just covered
a driver’s head with my rifle and told
him to hold up his hands, and he put them
into his pockets and brought out his revolvers,
which he handed to me. There they
167are,” said Tom, putting his hands behind him
and bringing out a pistol in each. “You see
Leon had a revolver and I had none, and I
just put these into my clothes and said nothing
about it. If I am going to be a soldier
I’ll soon learn how to steal as well as anybody.”
“Let’s go out there and see what Giddings
is doing,” said Leon. “Mother, can you get
us up some dinner? We have a long way to
ride to-night, and we want to give our horses
a little rest after we get back to Ellisville.”
His mother said that dinner would be ready
by the time he wanted it, and Leon walked
around the house toward the place he had
seen Giddings lying in ambush, followed by
his companions. Giddings was on his feet
now, and was standing behind a corn-crib,
looking cautiously around the corner of it.
“Howdy, Leon?” he exclaimed, when he
saw the boys approaching. “You had better
get something between you and the woods
over there, for that chap is a tolerable fair
shot. I don’t like the way he sent his bullet
a-flying past my head.”
168“He didn’t hit you, though,” said Leon, as
the boys drew up beside the mountaineer from
Tennessee. They kept an eye on the woods,
but all danger from that source had passed.
The rebel who had been left alive had taken
advantage of the bushes, crawled among them
until he was out of sight, and so got himself
safe off.
“And the only reason he didn’t make a better
shot was because he had a revolver,” said
Giddings. “I tell you, Leon, we are going
to have trouble now. Those fellows are making
a map of this whole country.”
“Perhaps they are looking, too, for that
wagon-train we stole from them,” said Leon.
“There were forty wagons in the lot, and we
captured the last one of them.”
“Sho!” exclaimed Giddings in disgust.
“And I wasn’t there to help. But let’s go in
and look at that man. Perhaps you know
who he is.”
The boys followed the man into the negro
cabin with slight quakings of conscience, all
except Dawson, who had seen so many dead
men that he thought nothing of it. He lay
169there on the floor covered with a blanket,
never to move again in this life, with bushy
black whiskers spread all down his breast,
and dressed in a uniform that had a couple of
bars on the collar. He was a fine-looking
man, and Leon was wondering how many
hearts would break when they heard of his
death.
“I hit him right in the heart,” said Giddings,
pointing out the mark of his bullet on
his coat with as much indifference as he
would have shown if it had been a deer instead
of a man that was stretched out before
him. “Know him, any of you?”
“No, he is a stranger to me. I think the
best thing you can do, Mr. Giddings,” said
Leon, reverently spreading the blanket over
the dead man’s face again, “is to stay here
and keep an eye on mother. I didn’t think
the rebels would ever trouble her up here.”
“Did you steal much of them?” asked Giddings.
Leon replied that to the best of his knowledge
it was pretty near half a million dollars’
worth.
170“A half a million? Pshaw! They will
be all over this county looking for them
goods, and you will have to go deeper into the
swamp to be rid of them. When the rebels
come they won’t leave a shingle of this house
that you can use. They will burn them all.”
“Where’s the map he made out?”
“Your mother has got that, and his weapons,
too. Yes, I guess the best thing I can
do is to stay here. There may be some
more of these Confederates where these came
from.”
Leon went out, spent a few moments in exchanging
compliments with Giddings’ wife,
who was very comfortably settled in her new
quarters, and went into the house to ask his
mother for the map the rebel had made.
While the dinner was being made ready the
boys spent their time in looking it over. They
were astonished to find all the streams, as far
up as he had time to go, were correctly drawn,
and still more amazed to see that the little
creek which marked the boundary-line between
their county and Perry, which was so
deep at the place where the bridge extended
171across it, could be forded in five different
localities.
“That man must have been a civil engineer,”
said Dawson. “No one, without he
had some knowledge of the business, could go
over those streams in the short time he has
and make such a complete map of them.”
At the end of half an hour the boys had
eaten their dinner and were well on their way
toward Ellisville, Leon having the map, for
which the man in the rebel army had given
his life, safely stowed away in one of his
pockets. He wasn’t as happy now as he was
when he came that way before. Dawson’s
stories of his adventures had made him a
little reckless, and he felt as though he would
like to go through some of them himself; but
unfortunately it did not come to him in quite
that way. Here was his mother liable to see
more adventures than he was, and how did he
know but a squad of rebel cavalry would
come down on her, kill her guard and carry
her off to some Southern prison-pen? Another
thing, the Union men had been very
careful to hold a force on the main road which
172extended into Perry county, so as to meet the
Confederate troops when they came there, and
now the rebels had been at work operating in
their rear. It told Leon that they had got
something to do before they could establish
their independence.
“I know what you are thinking of, Leon,”
said Dawson. “I don’t care how strongly a
place is fortified or how closely it is watched,
the enemy will get in and make a map of it.
They know right where the strongest works
are, and all about it.”
“What do they do with a man they catch
making those maps?”
“That depends. If he is in citizens’ clothes
they take him and shut him up; but if he is
in uniform, then it’s good-bye, John.”
“Do they shoot him?”
“No; they hang him just as surely as they
can get their hands upon him. So you see
that that rebel up to your house got what he
deserved. He knew what was going to happen
to him in case he was caught, and he
would rather be shot than hung.”
Before the boys had gone a great way on
173their road to Ellisville they met a party of
perhaps a hundred men, some with an axe on
one shoulder and a rifle on the other, accompanied
by three or four wagons loaded with
their household furniture. They were going
up into the swamp to build boats, so that their
families would not be cut off when the time
came for them to retreat.
“The President sent us, but I don’t look
for much trouble up here,” said the leader of
the party, leaning on his rifle. “But then it
is well to be on the safe side.”
“Don’t fool yourselves,” said Leon. “The
rebels won’t come along the main road.”
“Sho! How do you know?”
“Because they have got men around in your
rear working at maps, and all that sort of
thing,” said Leon. “Here’s a map that was
taken off a dead rebel this morning.”
As Leon produced the book the men
crowded around in eagerness to see it. They
looked at it in surprise, but they little thought
it was a plan that would lead the attacking
force miles behind them, and that when they
turned they would find five hundred men in
174front of them, and that they could drive them
pell-mell across the little stream before spoken
of, and into the hands of another Confederate
party who were concealed there in the bushes
waiting for them. It was a scheme to clean
out the Union party at one fell swoop, and
nothing but Leon’s going home that morning
saved them from it.
“There’s the little creek right there which
divides our county from Perry,” said Leon,
pointing it out with his riding-whip, “and
that map shows that it is fordable in five different
places—above and below the bridge.”
“Well, sir, it’s amazing how he got all the
little streams down there in the little time
that he has had,” said the leader. “Who
shot this rebel?”
“Mr. Giddings. He is lying in one of
father’s negro cabins. I tell you this that you
need not be caught napping,” said Leon, putting
the book where it belonged. “There may
be more rebels where these came from, and
you don’t want to let them see what you are
doing. Good-bye, and good luck to you.”
Ellisville was livelier now than they had
175ever seen it, except on the day of the convention.
There were men scattered all over it,
but the greatest number of them were around
the hotel. All the chief men were there inspecting
the wagons to see what there was in
them, and as fast as one wagon was found to
contain provisions it was pushed off on one
side, to be hitched up directly and taken away
into the swamp. It seemed strange that when
one of them had been doing such good work,
and when all the men about him were so
deeply interested in what was going on before
them, that there was one among them who
ached for an opportunity to “throw it all into
the ditch.” It was Newman. He was waiting
to see the quartermaster. He was going to
get a mule if he could; if not, he was “going
to bust up the whole thing.”
CHAPTER IX. A NIGHT EXPEDITION.
176
“Who do you report to?” asked Dawson,
as, following Leon’s example, he
pulled his horse up to a halt.
“What do I want to report to anybody
for?” asked Leon. These things were entirely
new to him, and he had a good many formalities
to learn.
“Why, it is the rule that you must report
to the men who sent you away, in order that
they may know when you got back.”
“Oh! Then I suppose I ought to report to
father. He is busy now, but as soon as I can
get his ear I’ll tell him about this map. Now,
Tom, you and Dawson go back to your camp,
and stay there till I come. We’ll make that
our headquarters until we get ready to go
away.”
But Mr. Sprague was not so very busy that
177he could not take a little time to listen to
Leon. The last two wagons were loaded with
clothing, and he told the person who officiated
as quartermaster that it would be proper for
him to call up any of the men who needed
something to wear, adding:
“There are rebel uniforms in there, and I
expect the men won’t want to wear them, but
it can’t be helped. I know I shouldn’t want
to take off my clothes and put on a gray
jacket. Well, Leon, how did you find your
mother? No Confederates been near her, I
suppose?”
Mr. Sprague opened his eyes in surprise
when he received a warning gesture from
Leon, but he followed him off on one side, out
of reach of everybody. The boy then began
a hurried account of what had transpired at
his house, showed him the map, and told how
he had left Giddings there to keep an eye on
his mother. To his surprise his father never
changed his countenance at all. He listened
to Leon’s recital with the same apparent unconcern
that he would have received any
ordinary piece of news.
178“Now, father, what are you going to do
about this?” said Leon, in conclusion. “It
looks to me as though the rebels were getting
up something, and the first thing we know
they will be after us.”
“I don’t know what I shall do about it yet,”
said Mr. Sprague. “I shall want to see Knight
about it first. Now, as you are going into
foreign parts to-night—”
“Why, I am not going away,” exclaimed
Leon. “I am only going into Perry county.”
“Well, that is a foreign country. That is
what the rebels call the United States, and
head all their news as ‘foreign intelligence.’
What’s the reason that we can’t so designate a
county which they claim? You are going
into Perry county to help Dawson bring his
mother up here, and I must instruct you how
to pass the sentries.”
“Have you got some sentries out?” inquired
Leon.
“We’ve got ten men down by that bridge,
but this map you have shown me proves that
they won’t do much good there. Now, when
you come up with them—”
179Mr. Sprague took this as his starting-point,
and went on to tell Leon just what he must
do when he passed the sentries. It was new
business to him, and he must be very careful
how he acted. He must not attempt to run
by them—Mr. Sprague thought that Dawson
was rather careless, and was afraid he might
do something to draw the sentries’ fire—but
must do just as he was told. When ordered
to dismount and bring the countersign, “Fidelity”—could
he remember it?—he must be
sure not to give it until the sentry was close
upon him, and then utter it in tones so low
that no one but the man for whom it was intended
could hear it. Leon promised compliance,
repeated the countersign over to be sure
he had it in his mind, then shook his father
warmly by the hand and went off to Tom
Howe’s camp. In reply to their inquiring
glances, Leon then went on to tell that his
father had decided to see Mr. Knight before
he determined what to do in regard to the men
who had been operating in the rear, and described
how he was going to work it to get
by the sentries.
180“That’s all right,” said Dawson. “We
can’t attempt anything wrong there, although,
to tell the truth, I have run by my own sentries
more than once.”
“What would they do with you if they
were to catch you in that business?” inquired
Tom.
“Oh, if you hadn’t made any effort at deserting
they would put you in the guard-house,”
replied Dawson, with a laugh. “They
would think it was merely a little fun on
your part, and they wouldn’t punish you very
severely. But if you were known to be a deserter,
they would hang you in a minute.
Now, I suppose we can wait here until it is
pretty near dark, and then we must be up
and doing. If you fellows don’t want to go
say the word, and I’ll go alone.”
“I shall be with you when you see your
mother,” said Leon.
“Here too,” said Tom. “You just bet I’ll
stick close to Leon’s coat-tails. If he gets
into a row I’ll be there to help.”
After that there was silence in the camp,
for two of the boys had something at least to
181think about. They were about to begin soldiering
in earnest. It is true that the events
of the day before had infused new confidence
into them, but the attacking Union party
was a great deal stronger than the Confederate
escort, and a battle, if one had taken
place, could have ended in but one way. Now,
they were going right in among those fellows,
and who knew but they might run onto a
squad of rebels who were numerically their
superiors, and be all taken prisoners? That
was what bothered Leon. He wasn’t afraid
of being shot, but he was afraid of being
hanged. There was something murderous
about a rope and the men getting ready to
haul away on it, but with a bullet the case
was different.
“Well, if I am going to die I’ll show myself
a man,” soliloquized Leon, as he rolled
about under the trees watching Tom, who was
getting an early supper for them. “How cool
Dawson takes it.”
His rebel friend lay opposite to him, on the
other side of the fire, with his saddle for a
pillow and his hat drawn over his face, and
182the regular breathing that came to Leon’s
ears told him he was fast asleep.
“Now, it seems to me that if I was going
back among a lot of comrades who were just
aching to hang me I should find something
to think about to keep me awake,” muttered
Leon. “Maybe it is all in a lifetime. Perhaps
when I have been through as many dangers
as he has I can go to sleep, too.”
SupperSupper was ready at last, Dawson aroused
to eat his share of it, and the moment he was
settled with a plate of bacon and corn-bread
before him, he became at once full of stories.
He seemed surprised because Leon told him
that he was asleep.
“Well, I couldn’t make the time pass quicker
by staying awake, could I?” said Dawson.
“You would have gone to sleep if you knew
what’s before you. You may see the time when
you will be glad to take a wink all by yourself.”
In half an hour more the boys rode out of
the grove and turned their horses toward the
bridge. In passing by the hotel Leon saw
his father standing on the porch. He saluted
him, but kept right on without stopping.
183Dawson was surprised, and remarked in his
quiet way that Mr. Sprague was taking the
separation very coolly.
“He must have unbounded confidence in
you,” said he. “Most fathers would have
come out to bid you good-bye.”
“I did that long ago,” said Leon. “My
mother is the only one I am worrying about
now. If the killing of that rebel will convince
them that we have a body-guard out on
all sides, I shall be more than pleased. They
will come with a bigger force than two men to
take a map next time.”
The ride through the woods was a lonely one,
and, finally, just as it began to grow dark,
they came within sight of the bridge, and saw
a sentry pacing up and down there with his
piece carried at shoulder arms. One thing
was evident to Leon: his father had improved
his time in giving the men some instruction,
or else the squad was under a corporal who
understood his business. The sentry halted
when he heard the sound of their horses’
hoofs on the road, faced about, and brought
his gun to arms port before he said a word.
184“That fellow acts like an old sentinel,
don’t he?” said Dawson. “He has been in
the service before.”
“No, I reckon not,” said Leon. “So far as
I know, everyone of these men is as green as
I am myself.”
“Halt!” shouted the sentry. “Who comes
there?”
“Friends with the countersign!” said Leon.
“Dismount, friends. Advance, one, with
the countersign.”
So far everything was all right; but the
next move was something that was not down
in the tactics. No sooner had Leon’s voice
answered the sentry than nine men came running
from different parts of the woods and
took up their stand directly behind the sentry.
They held their guns in readiness, too, as if
they meant to be on hand for anything that
might happen.
“I tell you they meant to be ready for us,
didn’t they?” said Dawson. “You won’t get
the sentries in our army to answer a challenge
like that.”
“What would they do?”
185“They would keep out of sight in the
bushes, and perhaps be ready to fire in case
anything goes wrong.”
The boys had by this time dismounted, and
Leon, leaving his horse for Dawson to hold,
walked up to the sentry and whispered the
countersign, “Fidelity,” in his ears.
“The countersign is correct,” said the man.
“Why, Leon, where are you going? Don’t
you know that you will be gobbled up if you
go beyond that bend?”
“No,” said Leon, in amazement; “we are
going down after Dawson’s mother.”
“Well,” said one of the men who stood behind
the sentry, “you can go, but I won’t. A
little while ago two or three of us happened to
be out here, and we looked up and saw a fellow
standing in the road watching us. We
called to him, but he got into the bushes before
we could shoot at him.”
This was something Leon had not bargained
for. The other boys had come up in obedience
to his signal, and they all heard what
the man had to say about the spy who was
watching them.
186“Did you see more than one?” asked Dawson,
who was utterly amazed to know the
rebels had come between him and his mother.
If that was the case he might as well go back,
for all hope of bringing her into the Union
camp was, as he expressed it, “up stump.”
“No, I didn’t see but one, and he was a
Johnny, for the way he took to the bush was
a caution,” said the man. “That was what
brought us out here in such a hurry. We didn’t
know but there might be others behind you,
and we thought we would be ready for you.”
“Well, Dawson, I am going ahead if you
are,” said Leon.
“Talk enough,” exclaimed Dawson, placing
his foot in the stirrup and swinging himself
upon his horse. “All I want is a little pluck
to back me up, and I will have my mother
up here before you see the sun rise.”
“You have got the old man’s grit, I can see
that easy enough,” said the sentry. “Good-bye
and good luck to you. We don’t want to
say a word to dishearten you, but if you come
back here at all, you’ll come a-flying. One
sentry can’t stop you.”
187The boys laughed, but anybody could see
that it was forced, and in a few moments they
were around the bend, out of sight. It was
there that the rebel spy had been seen. They
looked sharply into the woods as they passed
along—every boy had his revolver drawn and
hanging by his side—but the thickets were as
silent as if nobody had ever been there. Leon
and Tom were very pale, there was no mistake
about that, but they kept as close at the
heels of Dawson’s horse as they could possibly
get. Not a word was said until the woods
had been passed and they found themselves
in the midst of a long cotton-field which
stretched away on both sides of them, and in
the distance was a row of buildings which
Dawson pointed out to them.
“If we can get there inside of that house
we are all right,” said he, and a person
wouldn’t have thought from the way he spoke
that he was thinking of his mother. “There
is where she lives.”
“If that spy was in the bushes and saw us
when we went by, what was the reason he
didn’t jump out and grab us?” said Tom.
188“Perhaps he was alone,” said Leon, who
would have felt safer if that spy, whoever he
was, had been among his friends. “He wants
more help before he attempts to arrest us.”
“Now, boys, let’s keep perfectly still and
ride up to the house as though we had a right
there,” said Dawson. “You are not afraid to
shoot, are you, Tom?”
“All I ask of you is to give me a chance,”
returned Tom, indignantly. “Anything to
keep from being made prisoner.”
The boys relapsed into silence again, and
presently drew up before the gate which gave
entrance into the door-yard. It was an old-fashioned
gate, and was held in place by a
wooden pin, which was thrust into an auger-hole.
The horse Dawson rode showed that
he was accustomed to that way of getting in,
for he moved up close to the pin, so that his
rider could pull it. The gate creaked loudly
on its wooden hinges, whereupon they heard
a little confusion in the house, the door opened,
and by the aid of the light from the fireplace
the boys saw a woman and two little children
fill the door.
189“Oh, Bo—”
One of the children was on the point of
shouting out Dawson’s name, but quicker than
a flash the mother’s hand covered his mouth.
It was no place to speak a person’s name out
loud.
“Sh—! Not a word out of you,” said
Dawson, dismounting from his horse. “You
will bring the rebels on me. That’s a little
boy, but he is Union all over,” he added,
turning to Leon. “Now you stay here and
hold my horse, and I will go in and get things
ready. I needn’t tell you to keep a good watch
down the road. If you hear so much as a foot-step,
I want to know it.”
“Now hold on a bit,” said Tom, dismounting
and handing his reins to Leon to hold for
him, “If you are going to leave us here in
silence I must take care of my muel, else she
will arouse the neighborhood. You hold her
head, Leon, and I will look out for her tail.”
“Well, why don’t you take care of it,
then?” asked Leon, when he saw Tom station
himself in such a position that he could readily
seize her tail in moments of emergency.
190“Because she isn’t ready to bray yet,” said
Tom. “Whenever she gets ready to let the
people know she is here she will bob her tail
up and down. Then I will be ready to take
hold of it and keep it down. Oh, there’s a
heap to be learned about muels the first thing
you know.”
Dawson laughed—he couldn’t keep from
laughing if he knew his mother was in danger—and
went on into the house, the door of
which was closed after him; so Leon didn’t
hear much of that greeting. And he wouldn’t
have learned much if he had heard it. His
mother had lived in danger for the last year,
and all she did was to kiss him and listen
while he told of his capture.
“But I wanted to go,” said he, “and father
and I promised each other that whoever got
away first should go to Jones county, and the
one that was left in the rebel ranks should
come there as soon as he could. I got away
first, and now I am come after you. Pack up
everything you want and be ready to load it
aboard the mule-team which I will bring here
as soon as possible.”
191“Will I be protected there?” asked his
mother.
“You certainly will. There is a thousand
men there, and they are growing every day.
I wouldn’t ask you to stir a step if I didn’t
think so. Your house is gone up.”
“Well, I can’t help that. But do you really
think your father will be able to join us
there?”
“He’s got to take his chances; that’s what
I had to do. Now, mother, take everything
you need and leave the rest behind for the
rebels.”
This was all that was said, and Dawson left
the house and went out to his companions;
but he knew that his mother had gone hastily
to work to bundle up such things as she needed
and could not possibly do without. He took
his bridle from Leon’s hand and with a whispered
“follow me” led the way around behind
a corn-crib, out of sight.
“Now I must leave you again, and you will
take notice that your horses don’t let anyone
know they are here,” said Dawson. “I am
going to get a mule-team.”
192“Your mother is going, is she?” asked
Tom.
“Of course she’s going. She would look
nice living in that house while she had a husband
and son in the Yankee army! Of course
we have seen the house for the last time. The
rebels will burn it up the first time they come
this way.”
While Dawson was getting ready to go out
and get the mule-team the boys noticed that
their horses raised their heads, and pricked
their ears forward and looked down the road,
as if there was some object down there that
attracted their attention. Dawson was the first
to notice it, and he straightway grabbed his
horse by the bridle and forced his head down.
“Somebody’s coming,” said he.
Leon speedily dismounted and took up a
position by his horse’s bridle, Tom gave his
reins into his hand and occupied his old station
by his mule’s tail, and all the boys held
their breath and listened. It was faint and
far off, but presently they could distinctly
hear the sound of a multitude of horses’ hoofs
upon the hard road. Nearer it came, until
193Dawson, who was experienced in such matters,
informed his companions in a whisper that
there must be a whole platoon of cavalry approaching.
It came from the south, too, and
that was the direction in which the rebel headquarters
were situated.
“I tell you it’s lucky that we got here
just in the nick of time,” said Tom. “Hold
on there, old muel,” he continued, catching
the mule’s tail and pulling it down. “You
mustn’t let those folks know we’re here. Did
you see how I stopped his braying?”
Leon and Dawson were too deeply interested
in what was going on in the road to pay
much attention to him, and finally they could
see, through the cracks in the corn-crib where
the chinking had fallen out, a number of men
ride past the house, or, rather, the majority of
them rode by, while three drew rein and
stopped there.
“By gracious! I hope mother heard them,
and that she had time to put her bundles away
out of sight,” whispered Dawson. “Everything
depends upon that.”
“Where do you suppose they are going?”
194asked Leon, who was so excited that he could
scarcely speak.
“They are going up to Jones county to see
how nearly ready for them we are,” said Dawson.
“I reckon they’ll stop when they get to
the bridge. There are some riflemen up there
that act to me as if they were good shots.”
“Now, here’s a thing that bothers me,”
said Leon. “You are talking about getting a
mule-team to haul your mother’s things to our
county, and I would like to know how we
are to get it by those fellows? We’ll have to
wait until they go back.”
Dawson did not answer at once, for he was
much concerned about those three men who
rode into the yard. He saw one of them dismount
and go into the house, and his heart
beat like a trip-hammer when he saw it. He
waited for the confusion which he knew
would follow when the bundles his mother
had made up were exposed to view, but it did
not come. In a few minutes the man came out
and spoke to the two men he had left on
horseback, and they went on, and the rebel
turned and came directly toward the corn-crib.
195“He’s coming here,” said Leon; and before
anybody could say a word against it he had
cocked his revolver, rested it in the crack,
and pointed it at the man’s head. He was
right in front of the open doorway, and of
course Leon couldn’t have missed him at
that distance. The rebel came on as though
he knew where he was going, entered the
doorway, placed his mouth close to the crack,
and whispered:
“Robert!”
“For goodness’ sake turn that revolver the
other way!” whispered Dawson. “It is my
father.”
CHAPTER X. CALE WANTS A MULE.
196
“I am to go to the quartermaster, am I? It
is his business to give the muels out, is
it? He give one to that Tom Howe and
never asked what he was going to do with
him, and now he had to go and refuse to give
one to me. I’ll get even with you, Mr.
Sprague, for that, and you just see if I don’t.”
It was Newman who spoke, and he leaned
against the corner of the hotel and watched
Mr. Sprague as he went on inspecting the
wagons. He was a boy about nineteen years
old, although he might have passed for thirty,
judging by his looks. He didn’t have a rifle; in
fact he didn’t have anything except the big
hunk of “nigger-twist” which he took from
his pocket, transferring a generous slice to
his mouth. He was not a raftsman, anybody
could have told that, for they generally took
197some pains with their personal appearance.
This Newman was ragged and dirty, and
looked as though he had been in the habit of
sleeping wherever night overtook him. He
had the appearance of being mean enough
for anything, and the facts proved that he
was.
“See that ole Sprague stepping around like
he owned the nation,” muttered Newman,
shutting one eye and squirting a flow of tobacco-juice
at the nearest tree. “I’ll see pap,
and if he thinks it can be done I am going to
do it. That ’rolling officer, when he was
here, told them that they couldn’t have things
all their own way, and I guess they will find
it out. They will give me something for telling
them where they can find the men, and
I’ll be dog-gone if I don’t do it. Where’s
that quartermaster, I wonder? Busy, as usual,
I’ll bet. Well, let him work his own gait.
He won’t do it much longer.”
Newman stayed around almost all day before
he got a chance to speak to the quartermaster,
and before he went away there was
something that drew his attention from Mr.
198Sprague to Leon. The latter and two companions
came up to report what had happened
at Mr. Sprague’s plantation since his absence.
Leon made a handsome figure, if he only knew
it. He sat his horse with easy grace, was clad
in a suit of blue jeans which fitted his person
admirably, and he raised his hand to his
father with a military salute that would have
done credit to an old soldier. Newman did not
hear any of his report, for it was given in
tones so low that they could not reach his ears;
but if he had heard any of it, it would have
shown the necessity of his being up and doing.
“See how easily he touches his hat to that
old civilian,” said Newman, with a sneer;
“while my father, who could have had that
position if the folks had been a-mind to give
it to him, has to go around without anybody
saluting him. Such things ain’t right, but I
tell you I am going to make them that way.
They offered my father something nice if he
would betray these chief men into their hands—they
didn’t say what it would be, but I suppose
it is some commission—and he don’t seem
willing to do it. I’ll do it, and see what they
199will give me. There’s the quartermaster now,
and he don’t seem to be busy.”
Newman threw his tobacco out of his mouth
and walked up to the quartermaster, who stood
with his hands in his pockets and watching
some wagons that were being hitched up previous
to being hauled into the swamp.
“I want to see if you will give me a muel,
please, sir,” said Newman, stepping up and
trying his best to give the military salute as
he had seen Leon do.
“A mule? What do you want of a mule?”
said the officer, more than half inclined to
laugh at the boy’s appearance. “You don’t
want a mule to ride up to the house.”
“No, sir; but I want him so as to be ready
to go with the men when they capture another
wagon-train,” said Newman.
“Why, you didn’t go with the men the
other day. I saw you around here the whole
time. Your father was with you, and so was
Dan.”
Dan was Newman’s oldest brother. All we
can say about him is that he was Cale Newman
over again. Dan was the one that stole
200the bacon and sweet potatoes that the family
lived on. He had courage to go where Cale
wouldn’t dare show his head.
“But we would a-had to go afoot,” said
Newman, in an injured tone. “I couldn’t
walk so fur.”
“It seems the others did it without any
trouble. You could have gone there and
showed your good-will, if you had been a-mind
to. I reckon you will find it better to
do without a mule.”
“You gave Tom Howe one and said nothing
about it,” said Newman, growing angry
again.
“I did?” said the quartermaster.
“Old Sprague done it, and it amounts to
the same thing.”
“Look here, Newman, you want to be careful
how you talk about that man. He ain’t
a common civilian any more.”
“What is he, then, I would like to know?”
“He’s got power enough to put you where
people won’t hear you say that,” said the officer,
fastening his eyes sternly on Newman’s
face. “He will put you in jail.”
201“Well, I’ll bet he won’t put me in jail,
neither. My father has got friends enough
to tear it up.”
“Well, Cale, if you are going to hold to
such doctrines as that you might as well go
among the Confederates, where you belong.
You don’t belong here, that is certain.”
“If you will give me a muel I won’t hold
no such docterings,” said Newman. “I’ll be
the loyalest fellow you ever see.”
The quartermaster looked at Newman in
amazement.
“What kind of a fellow are you, any way?”
he asked. “You are going to be loyal or not,
just as you get paid for it.”
“That’s the way my father looks at it.
You didn’t give him an office, and now he’s
going to let you hoe your own row. Now, if
I could have a muel to ride around—”
“Well, you’ll not get any, I can tell you
that. And, furthermore, if I hear any more
such talk from you I’ll have you arrested.”
“My father says—”
“I’ve heard enough. Don’t speak to me
again. A man who will depend upon a mule
202for his loyalty don’t amount to much. Now
go away, and don’t let me see you again.”
The quartermaster was very angry as he
turned away, and Newman stood and watched
him while he went on inspecting the wagons.
Then he took a chew of “nigger-twist,” shook
his head threateningly, and turned his steps
toward home.
“You have heard enough, have you?” he
muttered, as he followed the blind path that
led through the woods toward the little shanty
under which his family found shelter. “Well,
I’ll bet you will hear more of it before to-morrow
night. If father don’t give you into
the hands of the rebels I will.”
When Newman arrived within sight of his
home he found his father sitting on the door-step
smoking his pipe, while his brother Dan
was stretched in a sunny spot where he could
enjoy the full benefit of the warmth without
going near the fire. His mother was engaged
in a lazy sort of way over a blaze which had
been started in the fireplace; that is to say,
she was sitting down and watching a pot that
had been set over the coals, while a dingy cob
203pipe, like her husband’s, was tightly clasped
between her teeth. The house was a tumble-down
affair, and looked as though it was about
to come to pieces, with a dirt floor, and the
door beside which Mr. Newman was sitting
was minus a hinge near the top. The family
were all of them what might have been expected
by this description of their place of
abode. And the work, which might have
been accomplished by one man in three or
four days to make his house worth living in,
was not above Mr. Newman’s ability, for he
showed on his face that he had seen better
times. He had been wealthy once, but now
he had lost it, and was much too lazy to go to
work and earn more. That accounted for
Cale’s way of talking. He didn’t say “pap”
and “mam” unless he spoke before he
thought, for he considered himself better than
those with whom he associated. The raftsmen
used to say that if Mr. Newman’s work was
equal to his talk he would have a much better
house to live in.
“Well, Cale, what’s the matter with you?”
inquired his father, as the new-comer approached
204the place where they were sitting.
“You act as though you had lost your last
friend.”
“I want to tell you what has happened
down there in town, and see if you wouldn’t
look so, too,” said Cale, seating himself on
the ground. “I asked old Sprague and the
quartermaster—”
“Quartermaster nothing,” exclaimed Mr.
Newman. “Who gave him such an office as
that? He had the handling of the mules
and horses and would not give you one.”
“That’s just the way of it,” said Cale.
“Now, I want to know if such a thing is
right? He gave Tom Howe one and never
said nothing about it; but he wouldn’t give
me one for fear that I wouldn’t be on hand
when he was going out to capture the next
wagon-train.”
“No more would you,” said his mother, at
that moment appearing at the door to hear
what Cale had to say. “You ain’t on that
side. The South is going to whip, and you
don’t want to be beholden to those fellows for
anything.”
205“I told ’em if they would give me a muel
I would be just the loyalest fellow he ever
saw,” said Cale.
“The more shame to you,” said his mother,
angrily.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” chimed
in Mr. Newman. “If he could get a mule or
one of the horses he could fly around easy,
carrying dispatches and the like. He could
be here to-day and see what was going on,
and to-night he could get on his mule and
take the news down to the Confederates.
Wouldn’t he give you a mule?”
“No, he wouldn’t, I tried Sprague and the
quartermaster, too, and they both threatened
to arrest me if I talked so any more.”
“Well, I do think in my soul that they are
getting on a high horse,” said Mr. Newman,
taking the pipe from his mouth. “I’d like to
see them arrest you or anybody connected
with this family. Their old jail would stay
up about as long as I could get to it with an
axe.”
“That’s what I told ’em; and he said that
I mustn’t talk that way any more.”
206“Say,” said Dan, who had mustered up
energy enough to straighten up during this
talk and was now engaged in filling a cob pipe
with some nigger-twist, “you don’t suppose
that the men who were captured with that
wagon-train have gone on to Mobile, do you?
It seems to me that they ought to be back
here to-night or to-morrow. Them fellows
ain’tain’t a-going to stand still and let themselves
be robbed of half a million dollars’ worth.”
“Don’t I wish I had the stuff that’s in one
of them wagons!” exclaimed Cale. “There’s
grub enough to keep our jaws wagging for one
good solid year; and clothes! You just ought
to see the uniforms there is in there.”
“I came away before they got to inspecting
the wagons,” said Mr. Newman. “Somehow
I couldn’t manage to stay around and see the
clothes and things our fellows were going to
wear go to those lazy vagabonds.”
That was one reason why Mr. Newman
came away before the wagons were overhauled,
but the principal motive that governed him
was because he did not want to see others
saluted. His attention was first called to it
207by the actions of Bud McCoy. Bud didn’t
care for anything, but he seemed to be carried
away by his Union sentiment, and once, when
he spoke to Mr. Sprague, he did it without
saluting; but he thought of it at once, and
came back and touched his hat to him.
“I declare, Mr. Secretary of War, I almost
forgot my manners to you. I forgot that you
ain’t a plain raftsman any more.”
Mr. Newman would have given a good deal
if he could have been saluted that way, and
because he was not, he didn’t care to stay
around where the crowd was.
“Mr. Sprague let on that he didn’t want to
be saluted every time a man spoke to him, but
I know a story worth two of that,” said Mr.
Newman, getting upon his feet and pacing up
and down in front of his house. “I am better
able to hold that position than anybody else,
because I have seen more military than they
have. But no, they had to go and give it to
a man who don’t know a thing about it.”
“That’s just what I told them,” said Cale.
“And what did they say?”
“They said I couldn’t have the muel.”
208“Well, now, if those fellows come back
here,” said Dan, “what’s the reason we can’t
help them get all the chief men of the county?
I am in it, for one.”
“Here, too,” said Cale.
“You must be careful what you do,” said
Mr. Newman. “They have got sentries
posted down there, and you can’t get by them
without the countersign.”
“Then we’ll go below the bridge and swim
the creek,” said Dan. “If I go into this business
I shall go in all over.”
“If you will do that you may be able to get
me the commission of Colonel of the Confederate
army,” said Mr. Newman. “I never
told you this before, but I shall ask that or
nothing.”
“A colonel!” ejaculated Cale, with intense
enthusiasm. “Then you will have command.
He rides a horse, doesn’t he?”
“He certainly does, and he’s got a commission
backed by a government. He’s higher
than the President of the Jones-County Confederacy.
That’s the commission I am working
for.”
209One would not have thought that Mr. Newman
was working very hard for that commission
to have seen him at that moment. In
fact he did not seem to be working for anything.
He was sitting there perfectly quiet
and waiting for the commission to come to him.him.
“I tell you, boys, you must work hard for
that colonel’s shoulder-straps,” said Mrs.
Newman, taking her stand in the door with
her arms placed on her hips. “You won’t be
wearing no ragged clothes like you be now,
and I’ll have a silk dress to wear at all seasons.
You won’t catch me around cooking
as I am now. I’ll be a lady, and have a better
pipe than this to smoke.”
“And who knows but that father might get
us something?” said Dan. “I’ll bet if you
held old Sprague’s position you would give
me something besides a private in your
ranks.”
“That’s just what I am thinking of,” returned
Mrs. Newman. “Your father was
telling me about it last night. Of course he
would have a staff, and you two would come
in for two of the offices mighty handy. I tell
210you you want to work hard. Your father
doesn’t seem to be able to do anything.”
“And what is the reason?” exclaimed Mr.
Newman, taking his pipe from his mouth with
one hand and extending the other toward his
wife. “Do you suppose I am going to run
down there among all that crowd and stand
all the risk of getting my neck stretched for
treachery? The boys can do what they please
and nobody will say a word to them; but let
me go down there and carry news of what has
been going on and you will see how long you
have got a husband to take care of you. It
ain’t safe for me to go there.”
“I didn’t think about your being hung,”
said Mrs. Newman, indifferently.
“Of course that is what they are up to, and
they are thinking now how it could be done.”
“Yes,” exclaimed Cale, “they told me that
I had best go among the rebels, where I
belonged.”
“Don’t that prove what I said? I ain’t
going down there any more. But I want to
see them lock you up, if they dare do it.
That’s what I am aching for.”
211But Cale didn’t agree with his father’s
opinions in regard to locking him up, and he
secretly resolved that he wouldn’t say anything
more in the presence of the quartermaster
that would lead him to carry that resolution
into effect. His father filled his pipe and
sat down in his usual place in the doorway,
and Cale, following the motion of Dan’s head,
accompanied him around behind the house.
Mr. Newman didn’t care where they went or
what they did while they were gone. All he
thought of was the carrying out of Dan’s
proposition to surrender the head men of the
Jones-County Confederacy into the hands of
the enemy. It looked like a very small piece
of business for a father to put this into his
sons’ hands, but Mr. Newman thought he was
acting just right. The boys were gone half
an hour or more, and came back in time to get
something to eat. They sat down to their supper
in silence, and when they had got through
they put on their hats and left the house.
They didn’t take their dogs with them, and
that proved that they were not going after
wild hogs.
212“You just let those boys alone,” said Mr.
Newman, looking down the path along which
they had gone with some satisfaction. “They
are going to get whatever they go for.”
“I think it would have been some honor
to you if you had gone in their place,” said
his wife. “Somehow it don’t seem right to
leave the capturing of so many men to boys.”
“Yes, and run the risk of stretching hemp,”
replied Mr. Newman, indignantly. “Those
boys can be away from home as much as they
are a-mind to and nobody will say a word;
but if I go down to where the men are and
find out something about them they would
know in a minute if I wasn’t at home, like I
had oughter be. And I don’t want them to
ask that question. Let the boys go on. We’ll
have some of them men arrested the first thing
you know.”
“But how are they going to arrest them?
Are they going to come here and take them?”
“No; it will be in a fight, likely.”
“And where will you be when the fight
comes off?”
“Oh, I’ll be around somewhere. You look
213out for yourself and let your husband look
out for himself. That’s the way to do it.”
“I wish we had a muel to ride,” said Dan,
as they trudged through the woods toward the
creek. “Somehow it puts me on nettles to
walk. Now that Tom Howe has got a muel
I don’t see why we can’t have one. We ought
to have gone with them men that captured
that train.”
“But we had no guns,” said Cale.
“No, but we would soon have had them.
There’s lots of guns in the President’s headquarters
that haven’t got any owners. Tom
didn’t have a muel, and now he’s got one.”
“And that’s what comes of touching his hat
to those civilians,” said Cale, in disgust. “I
bet you I wouldn’t do it. Why didn’t they
give father a position like he ought to have
had? We would have had muels by this
time.”
“It’s my opinion that father has got his
foot in it,” said Dan, with a knowing shake
of his head. “He has said all along that the
South was going to whip, and old Sprague
and the other men don’t like it. I’llI’ll bet
214you that if the truth was known half of them
are on our side.”
This was the substance of the conversation
that passed between Dan and Cale on their
way to the creek. Boys as they were, they
had every reason to believe that one county
could not stand against the whole Southern
Confederacy, that the Union men in the
county were going to be easily whipped out,
and they wanted to be on the winning side.
Perhaps there was a little hope of plunder
mixed in with it, as Cale finally said:
“I’ll tell you what, Dan: I don’t like the
way that young Sprague had of throwing on
style to-day. He rode up on that colt of his
and saluted the old man as if he were the
owner of the State. I’d like to have him go
afoot for awhile and let me ride on that
horse.”
“Well, he’ll have to do it,” returned Dan.
“But he’s got some other things that I’d like
to have—his revolver, for instance.”
Before long it began to grow dark, but the
gloom that settled over the woods did not interfere
with the movements of these backwoodsmen.
215They kept straight ahead as
though it had been broad daylight, and finally
arrived on the banks of the creek. Without
saying a word they threw off their clothes
and prepared to plunge into the stream. If
they had known as much as Leon did they
would have looked for that ford which was but
a short distance from the place where they
swam the creek. The water was somewhat
cold, but they took it bravely, and in a few
minutes more stood on the opposite side.
“That Leon is going to have a colder place
than this,” said Dan, as he shiveringly put on
his clothes. “I do wish they would turn him
and Tom over to us.”
“What would you do with him?”
“I’d make him swim this creek.”
“Perhaps he wouldn’t do it.”
“He wouldn’t, eh? Wait until he sees his
revolver looking him squarely in the face. I
bet you he would go. Now, we want to be
still, for we don’t know how close those sentries
are to us. We must keep mum and make
as little noise as possible in going through the
woods until we find out where they are.”
216Cale was now perfectly willing that Dan
should take the lead, for as they were getting
pretty close to armed men he did not want
to be the first to draw their fire; so he
gradually fell behind, while Dan made his
way through the bushes with an ease and
celerity that was astonishing. He scarcely
caused a twig to rustle. The experience
which the boys had in hunting wild hogs
stood them well in stead. Finally Dan
pushed aside the bushes and saw the road
fairly before him. There was nothing on it
as far as he could see, and the bridge seemed
to be empty.
“Somebody has been fooled in regard to
those sentinels,” said Dan.
“Go out in the road,” said Cale. “You
can’t see anything from here.”
Dan went, but had scarcely got clear of the
bushes when a voice called out, in a surprised
tone:
“Halt!”
“By gum, I guess you found something,”
whispered Cale. “You had better be gettinggetting
out of there.”
217Dan waited to hear no more. He drew a
bee-line for the bushes, and in a moment more
was threading his way noisely through them.
When he had gone a little ways he stopped
and said to his brother:
“I didn’t see anybody there.”
“No, but they are there, and they saw you,”
said Cale, who was greatly excited. “Now,
what’s to be done? I wish that cavalry would
come along now, and we would have those
sentinels took in out of the wet. I hope they
did not see you.”
“Nor me. I wouldn’t dare go back home
again. Let’s sit down here a spell.”
“I—I believe I would rather go a little
further away,” said Cale. “Suppose some
officer should come along the road?”
Dan answered this question by seating himself
on the nearest log and resting his chin
on his hands. He wasn’t going any further,
and Cale, rather than be left alone in the
woods, took a place by his side. They stayed
there for a quarter of an hour without saying
a word, except Cale, who wished they had
a gun, so that they could tumble the officer
218over when he came along to see where they
went, and then they heard another challenge
to halt from the sentinel on the bridge.
“There, now, I’ll bet there is somebody
else coming,” said Cale, his excitement and
fear increasing tenfold.
“Well, he didn’t come by here,” said Dan,
who sat where he could see everybody who
passed along the road.
“No, but he came from Ellisville. Who
knows but there was someone there watching
our house, and who saw us when we came
away?”
“That’s so,” said Dan, but he didn’t seem
to be much worried by it.
“Well, now, I say let’s go a little further
back.”
But Dan kept his seat with his eyes fixed
upon the road, and while his brother was trying
to make up his mind whether or not he
ought to leave him they heard the clatter of
horses’ hoofs on the bridge, and even Dan
began to prick his ears. It was a small party
of horsemen who were coming directly along
the road of which he kept watch. They
219were walking their horses, and that made
the spies eager to escape observation. Dan
stretched himself out at full length in the
bushes, his example being promptly followed
by Cale, and in a few minutes the horsemen
rode by; but they saw nothing to excite their
suspicions, and in a few seconds more they
passed out of hearing.
“Don’t I wish I had a gun!” exclaimed
Dan, raising himself on his knees and going
through all the motions he would make in
covering the horsemen.
“Who was it?” asked Cale.
“It was Leon, that worthless Tom Howe,
and that rebel fellow that they have been
running with since yesterday,” said Dan.
“Now I wish your squad of cavalry would
come along. But you see we hain’t got no
guns, and each one of them has got a six-shooter.”
Cale had never been more astonished in his
life.
CHAPTER XI. MR. DAWSON’S STRATEGY.
220
“Yes, sir, I wish I had a gun in my
hands,” said Dan, rising to his feet
and gazing down the road in the direction in
which the horsemen had disappeared. “I
could have tumbled that Leon Sprague off
his horse just as easy as not. And I might
have had if there had been any way for me
to earn it.”
There had been plenty of ways for him to
earn a gun, or, for the matter of that, some
better clothes than he wore, if it had not been
for his disinclination to work. He could have
gone into the woods almost any time and
made a man’s wages by chopping, but that
was niggers’ work and a little too low down
for him. Mr. Newman and his boys had tried
it once, but the men who had charge of them
were so cross and snappish, and wanted them
221to do so much more work than they did, that
they could no longer stand it. At the end of
three days they came home with their axes,
put them up in a corner, and vowed that they
would hunt wild hogs with their dogs and
stick them with their knives rather than work
under such task-masters. And if their father
wouldn’t do it they might be sure that the
boys would not, for Dan and Cale looked for
better times without doing a thing to bring
them about. They preferred to be idle—they
were squatters; even the ground their house
was built upon did not belong to them—and
whenever anybody came near losing his life,
as Tom Howe had come near losing his during
the last spring drive, it pleased them wonderfully.
That little episode added to their
enmity against Leon Sprague. According to
their belief, Leon ought to have stood on a log
and seen him go under.
“I didn’t see anybody go by,” said Cale.
“I don’t suppose you did,” said Dan, with
something like a sneer. “You are like an
ostrich. Whenever they get frightened they
hide their heads and think their body can’t
222be seen. Now let’s go down this way a little
further, and then we’ll lay in the bushes and
see what’s going to happen.”
“What do you suppose that rebel fellow
has come out here with Leon for?” said Cale.
“Has he got any relatives or things down
here that he is going after?”
“That’s just what’s a-bothering of me. I
don’t know, but we can watch and find out.
Now we’ll wait until they come back,” said
Dan, picking out a comfortable seat for himself
against a tree where the bushes were so
thick that one might have passed within five
feet of him without knowing that he was
there. “He’s a rebel, he deserted to the
enemy with a uniform on, and if we see some
Confederates come along here we will tell
them where he is.”
“But we don’t know where he is,” said
Cale, looking around to find an easy spot to
sit down.
“Well, the rebels can easy watch here until
he comes back,” retorted his brother. “What’s
there to hinder them from jumping out on
him and taking him and all that he’s got into
223the bargain? Now, I like, when I am sitting
down in this way, to talk about what I am
going to do with those things we are going to
take away from Leon. I speak for his revolver.”
This started Cale off on a new subject, and
it wasn’t long before he forgot that there were
armed men within less than a quarter of a
mile from him. If Leon and Tom could have
been dealt with as these young backwoodsmen
wanted them to be it wouldn’t be long before
they would have changed places. They probably
passed an hour in talking over their
various plans, and then they were brought to
an abrupt silence by the sound of horses’
hoofs upon the road. The men had been advancing
so cautiously that they were close
upon them before they knew it. Cale, whose
greatest care was to keep out of sight, at once
stretched himself at full length in the bushes,
while Dan, who wanted to see who the men were,
raised himself to his full height and looked
over the thicket. What he saw was about a
dozen men, all on horseback, and noted, too,
that they were all dressed in Confederate uniform;
224but one thing that astonished him was
a revolver that was pointed straight at his
head. The leader of the horsemen was an
old soldier, and he could not be taken
unawares.
“Halloo! By George, there’s a Yank,” he
exclaimed. “Come out of that.”
Dan was thunderstruck. He had never
expected to be greeted this way by his friends,
and for a moment or two he stood with his
hands down by his side unable to move or
speak; while Cale, uttering a smothered ejaculation,
began to worm his way out of the
bushes on his belly.
“Hold on! There are two of you there,
and if you move another hair I will cut loose
on you!” shouted the leader; and to show that
he was in earnest he turned his horse and
rode into the woods. His men were with him,
and when Dan cleared his eyes of a mist that
seemed to obstruct their vision he found that
there were half a dozen revolvers looking at
him. “We’ve got you and you might as
well come out. Where do you belong?”
“Are you Confederates?” stammered Dan.
225“Of course we are. What did you take us
for? Come out of that.”
“Well, now, if you are Confederates you
want to turn those weapons the other way,”
said Dan, growing bolder when he heard his
own voice. “I am as good a Confederate as
you are.”
“Oh, well, then, it is all right. Come out
here on the road so that we can talk to you.
Get up there, you fellow lying in those
bushes. You needn’t think we are going to
hurt you. Now, then, what do you know?
Have you seen any Confederates around here
to-day?”
“No, I haven’t. But say,” added Dan,
who had by this time taken up his stand in
the road and grew bolder when he saw that
none of the soldiers addressed him by name,
“you want to get all the head men of Jones
county in your hands, don’t you?”
“Well, I should say so,” exclaimed the
leader, showing more enthusiasm than he had
thus far exhibited. “Can you put me in the
way of getting my hands onto them?”
“How much will you give?” said Dan.
226“How much will I give?” asked the leader,
as if he did not quite catch Dan’s meaning.
“Yes. My father had some talk with you
fellows about it, and he says he is working for
a colonel’s commission. He won’t work for
any less. Now, you can afford to give me
captain and my brother here lieutenant, can’t
you?”
The captain, for that’s who he was, was
taken aback by this bold declaration on the
part of Dan. He looked hard at him to see
if he was in earnest, and then looked around
at his men. There was one present, a lieutenant,
who evidently measured Dan by his
own estimate, for he said:
“I was there and heard all about it, Captain.
We had a long talk with the old man—what’s
your father’s name?” he added, bending
down from his saddle and trying to get a
glimpse of Dan’s face.
“His name is Newman,” said Dan.
“And yours?”
“Dan; and this is my brother, Cale Newman.
We are two good Confederates, dyed in
the wool.”
227“I know you are, for I recognize the name.
We had a long talk with Mr. Newman about
it, and we agreed to give him a colonel’s position
if he would put us in the way of getting
the chief men of Jones county into our
hands. Now, Captain, you can afford to give
two such little offices as he wants in return
for his services.”
“Why, yes, of course,” said the captain,
who fell in at once with his lieutenant’s ruse.
“You see, Captain—I want all of you men
hereafter to address this man as captain and
his brother as lieutenant—do you hear?” he
added, turning to his squad; and a responsive
“Yes, sir,” came from all the men; although
candor compels us to say that some of them
wanted to laugh. Some of them looked back
down the road, and others had something to
to do with fixing their feet in their stirrups.
“Thank-ee, Captain; thank-ee,” said Dan,
who didn’t know whether he was awake or
dreaming. “Just give us a horse apiece and
a gun, and we will lead you against those
men any day.”
Cale Newman scarcely believed he had heard
228aright. He knew more about military matters
than his brother did, and he did not know
that an officer had a right to promote one to
his own rank without going first through
some preliminary steps. He listened in a
dazed sort of way to the conference between
the leader of the squad and Dan, but as no one
spoke to him and addressed him as “lieutenant,”
he did not know whether he was an officer
or not. At any rate, he decided to get
home before he built any hopes upon it. His
father had “seen some military” (although
where he saw it, it would be hard to tell, unless
he had seen some military companies
march along the street), and he would know
whether or not everything was just as it
should be.
“You see, Captain, I was not with my officers
when they talked this matter over with
your father, and consequently I didn’t know
anything about it,” said the leader of the
squad. “However, I am glad to be set right
on the matter. You spoke of surrendering
the chief men into our hands; now, how are
you going to do it?”
229“I will tell you where you can get one of
them right here,” said Dan. “Leon Sprague
has gone down the road with a rebel fellow
that he has been running with since yesterday—”
“A rebel fellow?” interrupted the captain,
in astonishment. “Have any of our men deserted
to you?”
“Oh, yes; there’s lots of them. We had
1498 men when this war broke out,” replied
Dan, copying what he had often heard his
father say, “and now we have a thousand
fighting men camped right up this road.”
“Well, I declare,” said the captain, turning
to his lieutenant. “We came within an ace
of getting right in the midst of it. They are
camping right up this road, you say?”
“Yes; and they stole a big lot of provisions
from you yesterday.”
“We know that, dog-gone them!” said the
captain. “We have come up here to see
about those provisions. Do you know where
they are?”
“The most of them have been hauled to
the swamp.”
230“There!” said the lieutenant. “Then it is
of no use to go any further. If those goods
have been taken to the swamp they are lost
to us.”
“I confess it does look that way. Now,
about this rebel fellow who has just gone off.
What is he going after; do you know?”
“He may be out scouting, the same as you
are,” replied Dan.
“And he takes a couple of green boys to
help him scout the same as we are?” exclaimed
the captain. “I guess not. He’s got some
friends down here, and he wants to get them
on the other side of the line. Do you know
where this boy lives or what he is?”
“We can easy catch him as we go back,”
said the lieutenant. “And in the meantime I
would suggest to you the propriety of going
up and finding out for ourselves the number
of pickets they have placed at the bridge. I
believe you said there were some there?” he
continued, turning to Dan.
“There’s a whole pile of them,” answered
Dan. “We didn’t see them ourselves, because
we swum the creek; but when we got over
231here I went out to see if I could see anything
of the sentinels, and they saw and halted me.”
“But you didn’t go in, did you?”
“Not much I didn’t. I took leg bail, and
got into the woods. You see the men up
there are acquainted with us, and if they got
us they would make us stretch hemp.” Another
quotation from his father.
“Well, we shall have to ask you to stay
here until we come back,” said the captain.
“We shan’t be gone but a little while. Forward,
and hold your sabres in so that they
won’t hit against your heels.”
The two boys stood there in the road and
saw them ride around the first bend, and they
went so silent and still that one who didn’t
know they were there would not have suspected
anything. As soon as they were out
of hearing Dan showed off a little of the enthusiasm
that was in him.
“Captain! Captain Dan Newman!” said he,
with a violent attempt to refrain from giving
a wild hurrah. “And I never was in the
army in my life! And you are a lieutenant,
Cale. But you don’t seem to think much of it.”
232“The fact is, I don’t know whether I am
an officer or not,” replied Cale, looking down
at the ground. “I don’t believe that officer had
any right to promote us.”
“Well, I declare, you are a dunce,” said his
brother, more than half inclined to get angry
with him. “Didn’t you hear what the officer
said to his men—‘I want you all to address
him as captain and his brother as lieutenant’—I
tell you that’s enough for me.”
“But this officer was a captain.”
“No matter for that.”
“And I don’t believe that he had a right to
promote you to the same rank as himself.
They don’t do business like that in Jones
county.”
“What way?”
“Why, the President has something to do
with it.”
“Somebody has been stuffing you. Of
course they don’t do business that way in
Jones county; but these men are in the
service, and of course they know what’s
right.”
“Well, I am going to wait until I see
233father, and if he tells me that I am an officer,
why I’ll have to believe it.”
This was a new thing to Dan, and he did
not say any more. He supposed that the next
thing was to be ordered to Mobile, where his
uniform, a horse and weapons would be given
him, and after that he would be at liberty to
take command of a body of scouts the same as
this captain had done; but now he began to
look at it in a different light.
“I’ll tell you what is the matter with you,”
said Cale, after thinking the matter over. “It
all comes of your wanting father to get that
commission as colonel.”
“Hasn’t he got a right to it, I’d like to
know?” retorted Dan. “He said he wouldn’t
work for any less.”
“I know, but they didn’t tell him that they
would give him that commission. He told us
that he was working for it; and here the
rebs have gone and got on your blind side—”
“Whoop!” yelled Dan, his anger getting
the start of him; and with the word he kicked
out savagely at his brother, who was just a
little bit too quick for him. He slipped out
234of the way, and Dan’s momentum took him
around on one foot and finally seated him
rather roughly on the ground.
“That shows that you don’t believe it more
than I do,” said Cale. “Heavens and earth!
What’s that?”
It was fortunate that something happened
to turn Dan’s mind from all thoughts of revenge,
for just then there was a rapid fusillade
of carbines heard up the road. Dan picked
himself up, and before he could answer there
came another report of rifles in reply to the
first, and they were so accurately aimed that
some of the bullets passed through the
branches above their heads. The first alarm
was given by the rebels, who wanted to see
how many men there were at the bridge.
They had halted a little ways from the creek,
leaving two men to hold their horses, and
crept up on the unconscious sentinel and
brought him bleeding to the ground. A
moment later they became aware that the
pickets at the bridge were too strong to be
carried by the small force they had at their
command, for the answering volleys that came
235across the creek—they came thick and fast,
too—showed them that the insurgents of
Jones county had taken ample precautions.
It demonstrated another point to their satisfaction:
it showed them that they knew how
to fight.
“They are shooting at us!” cried Cale, who
straightway dove into the bushes.
Dan stood there in the road and didn’t
know what to do. While he was considering
the matter the firing ceased, and then all was
still. He stood there for a long time, half an
hour, it seemed to him, and then he heard the
sound of horses’ hoofs coming from the direction
of the bridge, and in a few minutes the
Confederates rode up.
“Did you hit any of them?” inquired Dan.
“We hit one that we know of, and that was
the sentry,” said the captain. “We filled him
so full of holes that he never will hold that
position again. Now we will go on and report
that they have got sentries at the bridge. I’ll
look into all the houses as I go by, and if that
rebel fellow is about I’ll have him, sure.”
“Well, now, look here,” said Dan, who
236began to think now that there was some truth
in what his brother told him. “What be I
going to do?”
“You? Oh, yes. We shall want you to
stay here, so as to be on hand, you know, the
next time we come out after the Yanks. You
will be right here when we want you?”
“No. I live all of twelve miles from here,
and how will I know when you are coming?
Couldn’t you take me on to Mobile with
you?”
“Why, of what use would you be there?”
answered the captain, speaking before he
thought. “Why—you see,” he added, on
receiving a nudge from his lieutenant, “your
company isn’t ready for you to command it.”
“Couldn’t you take me on your staff?”
“Well, you see, I don’t have a staff,” said
the leader, struggling hard to keep from
laughing outright. “I’ll speak to the colonel
about you as soon as I get back. Good-bye.
Forward!”
“Of all things I ever heard of this is the
beat,” thought Dan, as he stood there and
watched the men out of sight. “If I am a
237captain, I do not see what’s the reason my
company isn’t ready for me to command it. I
guess I have made a botch of this business.
Well, Cale,” he added, aloud, “let’s catch up
and go home. And Cale, I won’t say anything
to the old man about this.”
“I reckon I wouldn’t if I was in your
place,” said Cale.
“No; but I will depend upon you to do it
for me,” continued Dan, coaxingly. “You
can repeat what the captain said to us without
mentioning any names, can’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“And all the while I will listen and be as
earnest as you for disbelieving it,” said Dan.
“In that way we will get at the truth of the
matter. But I do say that I think that that
captain was up to mighty mean business. I
reckon he’ll find somebody else that he wants
to promote in the same way, and I wish I
could be there to whisper a word or two in
his ear.”
Cale followed along behind his brother as
he bent his steps toward home, swam the
creek, and just at daylight arrived within
238sight of his dilapidated shelter. His father
was up, and a smoke lazily ascended from the
chimney.
“Well, boys, what luck?” he exclaimed,
when his eyes fell upon the two weary tramps
coming toward him. “Did you see any
rebels?”
Dan borrowed his father’s plug of nigger-twist,
and Cale hunted up his pipe before
either of them replied. Dan cut off a generous
chew, and then seated himself on the
doorstep.
“You have been gone a long time,” continued
Mr. Newman, “and I think you must
have seen something. Did you capture any
of the head men of the county?”
“No,” replied Dan. “We saw some Confederates,
but they wouldn’t go after them.”
“Why, how was that?”
Dan began and told his story just as it
happened, and the old man became so interested
that he allowed his pipe to go out. He
told about his meeting with the Confederates,
described the conversation they had with
them, all except the promotion, told about the
239firing on the pickets, and that they went back
to report that they had found sentries at the
bridge.
“And didn’t they charge across the bridge
and capture those pickets?” exclaimed Mr.
Newman, in disgust.
“They didn’t make nary charge that we
heard of,” replied Dan. “They said they
would go back and report it.”
“Well, if that ain’t a pretty way to do
business I don’t want a cent. They ought to
have a couple of thousand men behind them;
then they could have captured the sentries,
and come on up here and gobbled these
men.”
It was now Cale’s turn to try his hand.
“Father,” said he, “has a captain any right
to promote a man to the same rank as himself?”
“No,” said his father. “What made you
ask that question?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about it.”
“The captain has a right to watch his men
in action, and if he sees them doing any brave
act he reports it to the colonel,” said Mr.
240Newman. “But he has no authority to promote
them himself.”
The boys were satisfied. Cale stretched
himself out upon his shake-down and dropped
off into a dreamless slumber, while Dan threw
out his tobacco, filled a pipe with nigger-twist,
and sat down and thought about it. There
was one thing he did not neglect to do. While
he was lost in dreaming of the glory that
might have been his if his promotion had
been according to law, he did not forget to
vow vengeance upon the captain who had
presumed to play upon his credulity in that
outrageous way.
“I know just how he looks,” soliloquized
Dan, “and if it ever comes in my way to do
him a mean act he’ll see how quick I’ll take
him up. But that promotion is what gets me.
How fine that old fellow looked in his high-topped
boots, slouch hat, and gloves that came
up to his elbows! Never mind. I’ll see the
day when I will be better off than any of
them.”
Meanwhile there was one soldier in the
captain’s ranks who would have given everything
241he possessed to have been able to have
pulled out his revolver and shot Dan down
when he talked about “that rebel fellow”
who had gone off with a couple of Yanks.
He well knew what had brought him out
there. He was Mr. Dawson, and the boy who
had escaped at the time the wagon-train was
captured was his son. The boy had lived up
to his agreement, and was now paving the
way to take his mother and younger brothers
inside the Federal lines in Jones county.
We have said that Mr. Dawson came out
and spoke to the two men who had come into
the yard with him, and they went on, while
Mr. Dawson himself came toward the corn-crib,
behind which he knew his boy was concealed.
He was after a saddle, for his own,
together with his horse and weapons, had been
taken by the Jones county men when they
captured the train. He had seen his boy go
off into the bushes and drew a long breath of
relief, for he knew that his troubles were
ended. He obtained the saddle, placed it on
the old clay-bank which had been given to
him to replace the horse he had lost, and rode
242on and overtook the line just after they had
made a capture of Cale and Dan Newman.
He was in something of a scrape, because if
either of the boys saw or recognized him
they might have mistrusted something. So
he sat there on his mule, and heard what Dan
had to say about that “rebel fellow,” but no
one thought of connecting him with it. They
supposed that young Dawson was somewhere in
Mobile, and that they would find him there
when they got back.
The captain went into all the houses as he
went along, but without finding any preparations
for hurried departure. The women came
to the doors as fast as they could find some
clothing to put on, obediently struck a light in
response to the captain’s request, and then he
departed with a slight apology for his intrusion.
One garrulous old woman followed him
to the door and inquired:
“What did you-uns think you wanted to
find, anyway?”
“I just wanted to see if any of your men folks
had been at home packing up goods to take
them into the Yankee lines,” said the captain.
243“Sho! My men folks been in the Conf’drit
army before you was born. They ain’t seed
nuthing to make ’em desert yit.”
Finally they reached the house where Mr.
Dawson lived, and he noticed one thing that
attracted his attention at once. There was
but a single dog to welcome him, and he was
tied up back of the house. All the others
had gone off somewhere. As the lieutenant
reined his horse up close to the pin the captain
turned about and said:
“Why, this is the place where one of you
men live, isn’t it? You came in here after a
saddle, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” replied a voice from somewhere
in the line.
“Your boy is in the service, too. You
don’t suppose that he has deserted, do
you?”
“Well, he went off into the woods, and I
haven’t seen him since. You can go in and
see for yourself, sir.”
“Seeing is believing. It will not take but
a minute.”
The captain dismounted from his horse and
244pounded loudly upon the closed door, but met
with no response. Then he pushed open the
door and entered the house. By the flickering
light that was thrown out by the fire that was
blazing on the hearth the lieutenant found a
candle, and when he had struck a light a
scene of the greatest confusion was presented.
The bureau drawers were all thrown every
which way, and when they made their way to
the sleeping-room, not a vestige of clothing
was there on the bed.
“Gee-whizz!” shouted the captain. “Here’s
where one of those fellows has been. Arrest
that man out there—the one riding the clay-bank
mule.”
The men outside began riding about the
house, but no such man could be found. They
saw the place where the solitary hound had
been confined, but he was gone, and the man
on the clay-bank mule had disappeared.
“Don’t you find him anywhere?” shouted
the captain, coming out of the door in great
excitement.
“No, sir. He has skipped,” exclaimed one
of the men.
245“He’s gone off this way,” shouted another.
“I hear somebody going through the field.”
“Take after him, the last mother’s son of
you!” commanded the captain. “And remember
and don’t come back without him. I tell
you I’ll get fits for this, going out on a scout
and letting one of my men desert under my
very eyes!”
In an instant the captain and all his men
were in hot pursuit of the horseman whose
hoof-beats could just be heard. The chase led
through a wide cotton-field, with a high fence
at the other end, but the horseman, whoever
he was, had a long start and seemed determined
to make the most of it. Toward the fence he
held, the men scattering out so as to head him
off when he got there, and finally the captain,
who rode a splendid horse, got near enough to
the object he was pursuing to see that it was a
clay-bank mule.
“Halt!” he shouted. “We’ve got you, and
you might as well give up. If you don’t we’ll
leave you right here for the buzzards to eat.
Halt, I say.”
Still there was no response, and the mule
246kept on as fast as ever. The captain began
to get angry, and he drew his sabre, intending
to cut the man down when he got within
reach of him; but just then they came within
reach of the fence, and the mule turned and
ran alongside of it. That brought him within
reach of the captain’s vision (it was so dark
that they couldn’t see the man on the mule’s
back), and the officer, after taking a look or
two at the mule, drew up his horse.
“Gee-whiz!” he shouted, making use of
his favorite expression; “we have been chasing
that clay-bank mule, but where’s the man
on her? The mule was going home but the
man’s got off. Catch him, men, and then
we’ll go back and hunt for somebody else who
is hidden somewhere in the bushes.”
The captain was mortified in the extreme,
and no doubt he was a little suspicious. At
any rate, he was certain that he heard one or
two of his men giggling softly to themselves.
The idea of halting a clay-bank mule and telling
him that if he didn’t give some heed to it
he would leave him there for the buzzards to
eat was almost too much for them.
CHAPTER XII. THE REBELS TAKE REVENGE.
247
“Robert,” whispered a voice close to
the crack where the chinking had
fallen out, “is that you?”
“For goodness’ sake turn that revolver the
other way, Leon!” exclaimed Dawson, so full
of excitement that he could scarcely speak
plainly. “It is my father, and if you kill
him I am gone up. What is it, pap?”
“You got away, didn’t you?” continued
the voice, and one would have thought there
was a slight chuckle mingled with it, “and
you have come here to take your mother over
into Jones county.”
“You’re right, I have,” returned Dawson,
gleefully, “and you are here to help us. I’ve
got two Yanks here with me, and they are
just as good as they make them.”
248“I thought I heard you mention Leon’s
name. Is it Leon Sprague?”
“Yes, sir,” returned the owner of that
name. “I am here and ready to assist him
in any way I can.”
“I am glad to see you here,” continued Mr.
Dawson, “for I shall know that we are going
to stand some show.”
“Now, father, what shall I do first?” asked
Dawson, who was impatient to get to work.
“Hitch the first two mules you can get to
that wagon, and by the time you have done
that your mother will be ready for you. Leave
one dog behind you, so that I can readily follow
your trail.”
“Why, are you not going to stay, too?”
“No; I must go on with the squad, and run
my risk of getting away afterward,” replied
Mr. Dawson. “I will be missed if I don’t go
with them, and I want you and your mother
to get a good start. Be lively, and work as
hard as you can, for I don’t know when we
shall be back.”
“What shall I do after I get the mules
hitched up?” asked Dawson. “Will it be
249safe for me to drive around in front of the
house?”
“You can go where you please. There will
be nobody to bother you. Keep up a good
heart till I come.”
The man went off to get his saddle, which
hung in a remote corner, and Dawson kept a
close watch on him as long as he remained in
the crib. Leon couldn’t help thinking how
coolly father and son went about escaping
from serving under the flag they didn’t like.
If they made a success of it, well and good;
if they failed, it was certain death to the one
of them that happened to be caught. What
would Leon’s own mother have said if she
could have seen him at that moment? When
Mr. Dawson got his saddle and turned to go
out he waved his hand toward the crack as a
farewell signal, and that brought the first long
breath from the young fellow at Leon’s side.
It was plain now that all the nonsense was
gone out of him.
“There goes the best father that any fellow
ever had,” said Dawson. “He is plucky, too,
and when he next joins us he won’t come so
250still. He’ll have all that crowd after him.
But now I must get to work,” he added,
brightening up. “You fellows can help me
by staying right here and watching these animals,
so that they won’t arouse the whole
neighborhood, while I get the team ready.”
“Why don’t you let one or the other of us
go with you?” asked Leon.
“You’ll only be in the way; and, besides, I
have got plenty of negroes out there to help.”
Dawson went away, and although the boys
who were watching the animals caught sight
of him once in a while through the cracks, it
was fully half an hour before he came back.
Then he had the team, which an old negro
was driving, and the wagon was loaded so full
that there did not seem to be room for so
much as a skillet anywhere about it. Safely
perched among the feather-beds was his
mother, and she was having as much as she
could do to keep the children quiet. On the
end-board in front was Cuff, who was talking
to his mules in a quiet sort of way, and it was
astonishing how much speed he got out of
them. Following along behind the wagon
251were ten or fifteen negroes, who wished her
every success in her journey and promised to
come to her on the following day. The dogs
were there, too, all except the one that had
been tied behind the house, and they seemed
to think they were going off on a pleasure
trip.
“Now, then,” said Dawson, taking his
bridle from Leon’s hand and mounting his
horse, “you darkies have followed us far
enough. Go back now and go to bed, and
remember and don’t come out of your house
again to-night, no matter how much noise is
made here. Leave that dog tied up. Father
wants him to follow our trail by. Good-bye.
Now, Cuff, whip up. We don’t want to stay
around here any longer. Mother, take a good
look at your home, for it is your last chance
to see it.”
“No, Robert, I will see it in my dreams,
anyway,” replied his mother, who was almost
heart-broken at the idea of separating herself
for so long a time from all her associations.
“If your father only comes up with me I shall
be satisfied.”
252“What do you think of that, Leon?” asked
Dawson, as the wagon passed on out of hearing.
“These rebels want killing. Father
brought my mother to that house when he
first married her, and we have lived there ever
since. I am going to shoot every rebel that
comes in my way.”
Leon did not know what reply to make to
this. It was probable that his own mother
might be obliged to leave her home in the same
way, and he didn’t know how he would feel
if she were turned loose in the world. It was
no wonder, he thought, that Union men
should talk of killing every rebel that came
within reach. He knew he would feel so, too.
“There is one thing about it,” said Dawson,
with something that sounded like a sigh.
“A woman has more pluck than a man to
stand under such things. I never believed so
until to-night.”
The road they intended to take had evidently
been explained to Cuff before they
started, for he took to the lane that led through
the cotton-fields, and he kept his mules on a
keen trot all the way. Dawson didn’t go so
253fast. He allowed the wagon to gradually get
ahead of him, in order to cover their retreat,
and of course the boys stayed behind with
him. When they arrived at the cover of the
woods Cuff turned into it, and in a few moments
more was out of sight, while Dawson
turned his horse into a fence-corner and dismounted.
“Now, we will wait here for father,” said he.
“Where’s your wagon?” asked Leon.
“They are going on ahead toward the
bridge. Taken in connection with those
pickets I saw there they will get across, too,
because I believe they would turn out to help
us. Now, if you see that squad coming back
along the road, just hold your breath. Father
is with that crowd.”
Leon had never known what excitement
was before. He tried to take it coolly, as
Dawson did, but did not succeed very well.
He threw the bridle off his horse’s neck and
placed it around his arm, leaned on the top
rail of the fence and kept watch of the road,
and all the while he kept thinking how he
would have felt if his father had been with
254that squad of Confederates and watching for
a chance to escape. Tom Howe took it philosophically,
as Dawson did. He had a mother
to worry over him, but all he cared for was
the successful outcome of Dawson’s scheme.
The baying of the lonely hound came faintly
to their ears, but with the exception of that,
silence reigned unbroken. They stood leaning
on the fence, watching first the house
and then allowing their eyes to roam as far
down the road as they could reach, and finally
Tom broke the stillness.
“I see some fellows away off in that direction,”
said he, pointing with his finger to
direct the attention of his comrades, “who are
coming along this way. There’s a whole body
of them, too.”
“The time is coming,” said Dawson, after
he had taken a look at the advancing horsemen.
“We’ll know in a minute what’s going
to happen.”
After that all was still again. The three
boys stood there in the fence-corner and
watched the men when they rode into the
yard, and in a few minutes the baying of the
255hound ceased. Judging from the distance they
were from the scene, there was a fearful commotion
in the house. Men were seen riding
rapidly about, a faint voice like a command
came to their ears, and the squad suddenly
vanished from view.
“Father has the start of them at last,” exclaimed
Dawson, so excited and nervous that
he could not stand still.
“Why, how do you make that out?” asked
Leon. “You must have an owl’s eyes, for I
can’t see anything from here.”
“Neither can I; but he is doing just what
I would have done if I had been in his place.
You don’t hear the hound any longer, do
you? Well, you just wait until father comes
up and he will tell you that the men are
chasing a riderless mule.”
Leon began to understand the matter now, and
he was utterly amazed at the strategy the man
had used. He had dismounted from his clay-bank,
given him a tremendous dig from some
weapon or other he had in his hand, knowing
that the mule would go home before he would
go anywhere else, unloosed the dog, which
256showed him the way down the lane, and he
was now coming that way with the speed of
the wind. His pursuers had gone on after
the mule, and were leaving him behind every
moment. All this Leon went over for the
benefit of Tom Howe, and Dawson simply
nodded his head and then walked out in the
lane to find his father. Presently he saw the
hound, which sprang upon him, delighted to
see him, and a long way down the lane behind
him came his father.
“That’s father’s lope and I know it,” said
Dawson, addressing himself to his companions.
“He’ll hold that for two hours in order
to beat a deer on his runway. But I am going
to show him that I am a good soldier. Who
comes there?” he added, in a voice pitched
just loud enough to reach the fugitive’s
ears.
“It is I, Robert,” came the joyful response;
and in a few seconds Mr. Dawson came up.
“By George, I have had a good race for it!”
he went on, pulling his hat from his head
and using his crooked finger to remove the
big drops of perspiration that clung there.
257“Now, let us see what those laddy-bucks are
going to do with the house.”
“You’ll never see it again after to-night,”
replied Dawson. “Father, this is Leon
Sprague, who has stuck to me all along.”
“Leon, I am glad to meet you,” said Mr.
Dawson, extending his hand. “If you wait
here for a few minutes you’ll see what you are
going to come to. The rebels are making up an
organization already to go up to Jones county
and clean them out.”
“And, father, here’s another Yank that we
must not forget,” said Dawson, laying his
hand upon Tom Howe’s shoulder. “He’s
little, but he don’t say much. You heard
about the boy that came so near losing his life
during the last drive? Well, sir, he’s the
man, and there is the one who saved him.”
“I’m no Yank,” returned Tom, indignantly.
“I am Tom Howe, Southern born, the same
as yourself; but I hate a rebel.”
“I am glad to know you, Tom, and sometime,
when I get opportunity, I am going to shake
hands with you. You see the reason we never
knew you before is because you kept to the river
258during your drives, and never came back into
the country at all,” said Mr. Dawson, turning
to Leon. “Now, we will wait here a few
minutes and see what those fellows are going
to do with the house.”
They were not obliged to wait very long,
for the squad soon returned, having captured
the clay-bank mule, and two of them at once
proceeded to ride out the lane in which the
fugitives had gone. They came on until they
got within fifty yards of the woods, and there
they stopped.
“I declare they are coming on in pursuit
of us,” whispered Leon, drawing one of his
revolvers and resting it upon the top rail of
the fence in readiness to shoot.
“That’s the captain and the lieutenant,”
said Mr. Dawson. “They’re not coming any
further. When they see that we have gone
into the woods they will go back. There isn’t
a man in that squad that dare trust himself
within reach of these thickets.”
The old homestead doomed.
The boys stood there and watched the two
men—Leon at the bridle of his horse to hold
his head down, and Tom keeping a firm hold
259of his mule’s tail—and finally they saw one of
them alight and strike a match. By the aid
of the light which it threw out they examined
the ground and easily saw the wagon-tracks,
but they didn’t care to go any nearer the woods.
They held a short consultation, after which they
turned their horses and rode back to the house.
“I told you they wouldn’t come any further,”
said Mr. Dawson. “If I was in command
of that squad I would think twice
before I would put my men in danger of certain
death by bringing them in here.”
Mr. Dawson leaned upon the fence again and
devoted himself to the house. He wanted to
see what was going to happen to his property
before he went away. He had not held this
position for more than five minutes before his
heart gave a violent throb, and then he became
satisfied that the enemy was carrying
out his plan of setting fire to the house. He
saw a bright light on the inside, which grew
brighter every moment, and finally the flames
came out of the doors and windows. And not
only the house, but the barns, the corn-crib
and the negro cabins went up in smoke.
260“Well, boys, I have seen enough,” said Mr.
Dawson, turning away to follow up the
wagons. “The rebels have one enemy now
that they never had before. Which way did
your mother go, Robert?”
“Yes, and they have got two now,” said
Dawson, who was almost ready to cry when
he saw the home of his boyhood going up in
flames. “I’ll shoot every rebel that comes
across my path.”
“What could you expect in war times?”
said his father. “Of course, I looked for
them to burn my house—indeed, I should do
the same if I were on their side; but there’s
one thing they can’t burn, and that is the
ground. When these troubles are all over,
if we live to see it, we have the plain land with
which to start over again.”
“But what have they done with our black
ones?”
“Oh, they have gone.”
“Gone where?”
“They are on the road towards Mobile before
this time.”
“Well, I’ll bet you they don’t keep them
261there long,” said Dawson, angrily. “They
will have to watch them all the time or
they’ll get away. Mother went out this way,
father.”
“You see, it wouldn’t do for them to leave
the darkies with us,” said Mr. Dawson, pausing
for a few moments to allow the boys time
to mount their animals, “because we are
traitors to the South. They calculate to whip
us, and when the war is ended we’ll have to
get out.”
“But they ain’t a-going to whip us,” said
Dawson.
The fugitives followed along the road—it
had been cut in better times, to enable the
planter to haul out the logs—for a mile or
more, and then they came up with the wagon,
which had halted for them to come up. They
had been within sight of the burning house
all the while, and the mother, although she had
all she could do to choke back her tears, was
endeavoring to explain the matter to her children,
who could not see into it at all. When
young Robert appeared in sight, they forthwith
assailed him with questions.
262“Say, Bobo, what’s the matter?” said the
elder.
“Oh, some men wanted to burn our house,
and so we had to get out and let them do it,”
returned Dawson.
“Go on, Cuff,” said Mr. Dawson; and all
he did was to reach in and give his wife a cordial
grasp of the hand. “Keep right in this
road until you strike the main road, and
then go for the bridge the best you know
how.”
“But, Bobo, I don’t see what them folks
should want to burn our house for,” said the
boy. “We’ve always minded our own business—”
“Wait till we get to where we are going
and then I will tell you all about it,” said
Dawson; and that settled the question of
burning the house until the party reached
Ellisville.
Following the directions of his master, the
negro stuck to the woods-road, while Mr.
Dawson and the boys stopped in a fence-corner
to reconnoiter. The house was a mile
away, but it threw out so much light that
263anything that happened around it could be
plainly seen. They saw some of the men
moving about, and when everything was well
started they all mounted their horses and disappeared
down the road in the direction of
Mobile. But they had an old soldier to contend
with in Mr. Dawson, who did not leave
his hiding-place for an hour. He didn’t know
but some of the men would come back, and
so get between him and the bridge and cut
him off, and that was the reason he waited
there in the fence-corner. While he waited
there he talked, but it was not about anything
connected with his recent misfortune.
“Do you boys happen to know anything
about Dan Newman?” said he.
“Yes, sir, we know him,” replied Leon,
with a smile. “And we know Cale, too.”
“Well, what sort of fellows are they?”
“It’s my opinion that they are all rebels,”
said Leon, with emphasis. “The amount of
it was that the old man expected to get some
kind of a position, and when he didn’t get it
he turned against us.”
“That’s just what I supposed,” said Mr.
264Dawson. “Robert, I heard all about you
before I ever saw you to-night.”
“Who told you?” asked his son, in surprise.
“Dan Newman told me; or, rather, he told
it to the captain and I overheard it.”
“Was he out here?” asked Leon, and he
was so surprised that he could scarcely believe
he heard aright. “Was he out here among
the rebels?”
“He was, and he was the one that kept the
squad from running into the pickets stationed
at the bridge.”
Mr. Dawson then went on to tell what he
knew about Dan, and before he got fairly
started he had two surprised and angry boys
for listeners. When he told how “that rebel
fellow” had ridden on before them in company
with Leon and Tom, and that he could
easily capture them if they would only wait
until they came back, Leon took off his hat,
scratched his head and declared:
“If that fellow is at home when we get
there I am going to have him arrested. I
don’t see why the fellow didn’t wait.”
265“Well, I don’t think he paid much attention
to what Dan had to say,” replied Mr.
Dawson. “He preferred to go on and see
how many men there were at the bridge, and
when he came back he would look into all the
houses and see if there had been any evidences
of hasty departure. I guess he didn’t find
any until he got to our house, and then he
found all he wanted,” added Mr. Dawson,
with a laugh.
“Well, now, this beats me,” said Leon.
“Don’t it?” replied Tom.
“There was one amusing thing that was
connected with the interview,” said Mr. Dawson,
“and that was Dan’s rapid promotion.
The captain made him a captain, too, and his
brother a lieutenant.”
“Why, had the captain right to do that?”
“Certainly not; but the captain saw what
manner of man he was, and so promoted him
on the spot. I thought I had better tell you
of this, so as to put you on your guard.”
“Thank you; and you may be sure that
we shall take advantage of it. Captain Newman!
How that sounds!”
266As for Tom Howe, he was almost beside
himself with fury. When Leon punched him
in the ribs and asked him what he thought
about it, he simply shook his head and said
nothing. After awhile he inquired: “Was
Cale there?”
“Yes, Cale was there, but he didn’t have
much to say.”
“No matter. He was knowing to it all, and
he would have been the worst one in the lot
if he had only dared.”
“What would you have done, Robert?”
asked Leon of his rebel friend, although the
latter hadn’t made any remark thus far.
“What would I have done if they had laid
alongside the road and tried to capture us?”
replied Dawson, and there was much more
determination in his words than Leon had
ever noticed before. “Well, sir, I wouldn’t
have been here now. Didn’t you hear me say
that I would drop before I would be captured?
I meant every word of it. If I should be
taken prisoner I would only be hanged, and
I would rather be shot than that.”
“Well, boys, I have seen enough to make
267me believe that the rebels have gone home,”
said Mr. Dawson. “Now let’s go and find
your mother and see how much luck we will
have in getting by the sentries.”
“Oh, we won’t have any trouble there,”
said Leon. “I’ve got the password.”
“Yes; but it won’t be of any use to you in
broad daylight.”
“Then I’ll make my face pass us. Everybody
about here knows Leon Sprague.”
They had something more to do in coming
up with the wagon, for Cuff, when he struck
the main road, kept on “the best he knew
how,” so they had almost reached the bridge
when they came within sight of his span of
mules. After a short consultation it was decided
that Leon and Tom should go on ahead
to smooth the way for the fugitives, leaving
them to follow with the team; so they galloped
their horses and presently heard a voice
ordering them to halt. By this time it was
almost sunrise, and Leon, profiting by the
experience of the old soldier, didn’t say he
had the countersign. He and Tom stopped
and got off their horses.
268“Well, I declare, it’s you, ain’t it?” said
the one who came out to see who and what
they were. “Did you see anything of the
rebels last night?”
“I should say we did,” returned Leon, with
a laugh. “We stood right by and saw Mr.
Dawson’s house burn up.”
“Was that before they fired into us?”
“Why, I didn’t hear anything about that.
Did they shoot into you?”
“Yes, sir; and they killed Bach Noble as
dead as a hammer. You see he was standing
guard when they crept up and had no show
to defend himself; but we got the better of
them.”
“What did you do with Bach?”
“We laid him out there in the bushes and
sent a man up to Ellisville after a wagon to
take him home. He was the first man killed
on our side, but I’ll bet he ain’t the last.”
“You are sergeant of this post, are you
not?”
“I reckon. That’s what they call me.”
“I want you to pass along this road a party
of rebels who are now coming toward us. I
269saw their houses burned last night. They are
mighty tired of fighting our fellows, and are
now going over into Jones county to battle
under our flag. And I will tell you another
thing about them: they won’t take any
prisoners. Here they come now.”
“Now, Leon, I reckon you’ll swear by
them?”
“I will, any day in the week. Ask the man
any questions you want to. They have got
children with them, and they wouldn’t surely
take them into an enemy’s country.”
The Dawson party approached, being beckoned
to by Leon’s hand, and young Robert
was promptly recognized by the so-called sergeant
in charge of the post. He shook him
warmly by the hand, and said if the rest of the
family were as strong for the Union as he was
they might all come in and go on to Ellisville.
“They are as strong,” said Dawson. “If
you had stood where my father stood and saw
your property burn up, you wouldn’t have
much love in you for rebels.”
The party passed on over the bridge, lingered
270there to exchange a word with the squad
on guard at the bridge and to look at the
blood-stains the sentinel had left when he fell,
and finally kept on the road to camp.
CHAPTER XIII. CALE IN TROUBLE.
271
The Dawson party now drew a long breath
of relief. They had crossed the bridge
and were now on the road to Ellisville, the
pickets were between them and their pursuers,
and all danger of capture was passed. Young
Robert walked along beside his horse—the
elder Dawson seemed determined to foot it,
and his son kept him company—and, judging
from the remarks exchanged between husband
and wife, all peril of being made prisoners
was gone. Even Cuff drew a long
breath and slowed up on his mules, while
Leon and Tom rode on ahead, apparently very
much occupied with their own thoughts.
Everybody knew what they were thinking
about, and for a long time no one troubled
them; but at last Dawson could stand it no
longer.
272“It’s rather rough on you, ain’t it, Leon?”
said he. “To see where that sentinel shed his
blood is enough to make you believe that you
have not undertaken a picnic.”
“I tell you, boys, you have taken something
of a job on your hands,” said Mr. Dawson.
“I never heard of such a thing, and I am
afraid before the thing is up you will find it
an impossibility. The sight of a little blood
don’t worry me. When you belong to a company
that charges a battery, and the battery
opens on you and kills all but five or six of
you, then it will be time for you to open your
eyes.”
“Well, I don’t see why you took that
method of finding out how many men there
were at the bridge,” said Leon. “Why
couldn’t you have made a fuss of some kind
out there in the bushes and then counted the
men when they came out?”
“Because it was orders,” said Mr. Dawson.
“If you were in the rebel army for a few short
weeks you would know what that means. I
fired with the balance, but I shot wild. I
never fired at a Union man in my life.”
273“But, father, how did you come to be on
this scout?” asked Dawson. “You don’t belong
to that company.”
“Oh, no. I happened to be present when
the squad was made out, and among them was
an old German fellow who didn’t care to go,
and I borrowed his weapons and mule and
went in his place. I expect he’ll get tired
waiting for his weapons before he sees them
again. That’s a pretty good carbine,” added
Mr. Dawson, holding his gun off at arm’s
length and looking at it.
“I didn’t know that a man could do that,”
said Leon. “I thought you had to obey orders,
no matter whether you wanted to or not.”
“Not in a case like this. I didn’t say anything
to anybody about it. I got on the
mule, and when the squad was called together
I put in an appearance. I was afraid that
something was going to happen to my family,
and I couldn’t bear to stay behind.”
“I tell you, things turned out all right,
didn’t they?” said Dawson, gleefully. “You
came home just in the right time to join us.”
“What I want to know is, am I going
274to get my horse?” said Mr. Dawson. “I
raised him myself, and shouldn’t like to part
with him.”
“You will get your horse all right,” said
Leon. “If he has been given to anybody,
that man will have to give him up.”
That settled the matter to the satisfaction of
all the Dawson family. Leon soon began to
get over the forebodings caused by that crimson
stain on the floor of the bridge, and riding
beside the wagon he kept up a conversation
with Mrs. Dawson, who told him many
things connected with the service that he
hadn’t dreamed of. In due time they arrived
at Ellisville. Just as they were going up the
main road that led past the hotel they met a
squad of sentinels going down to relieve those
at the bridge. It was plain that an old soldier
was in command of them, for they were
closed up, held their guns at a carry and
marched by twos. The two officers who commanded
them marched at the head. They had
evidently had some time to drill their men,
and the result showed that the backwoodsmen
were not at all behind in military matters.
275When they came up, they reined their horses
out of the way and passed on without speaking.
“There’s a squad that is well drilled,” said
Mr. Dawson. “But I do not see why you do
not destroy that bridge. It seems to be a world
of trouble to you.”
“There’s a very good reason why we don’t
destroy it,” said Leon. “There are five other
places where it can be forded.”
“Why, I hadn’t heard of that,” exclaimed
Mr. Dawson.
“Do you remember sending two men up
here to make a map of the country?” asked
Leon. “Well, they found it out.”
“No, one of them stayed up here,” said
Leon, who somehow could not find it in his
heart to say the man had been killed. “If
we destroy the bridge, anybody like you, who
is tired of serving under that old rag, won’t
know that they can get across, and we have
nobody to send them to show where the fords
are. We don’t know, ourselves.”
As they drew near to the porch of the hotel,
276Leon saw his father standing there. He dismounted
and shook him by the hand—he
was certain that his father put a little more
grip into the shake than usual—and presented
Mr. Dawson, who, it is not necessary to
say, was received with a hearty welcome.
“The first thing this man wants is his
horse,” said Leon.
“Was he with us when we captured that
wagon-train?” asked Mr. Sprague. “If so,
he can have his horse. They have not been
given out yet.”
“There, sir, you got your horse,” added
Leon, turning to Mr. Dawson. “Now the
next thing is, we want to report. Is the President
in his room? Then, father, I want you
to come up there with Mr. Dawson. He’s got
some things to tell you that will astonish
you.”
His father replied that he didn’t see how
he was going to be astonished any more than
he had been, but followed Leon up the stairs
to the President’s office. They found the
gentleman there just as they had seen him
before, with a pair of blue jean pants on,
277which were tucked in heavy cowhide boots,
and no coat on. He greeted Mr. Dawson very
cordially and inquired, in his hearty way:
“So you’ve got tired of serving under a
flag that you don’t like, and have come over
here to cast your lot with us. Well, sir, the
best we have got is yours.”
“I am well aware of that, Mr. President,”
said Mr. Dawson. “But there is one thing
that I want to post you on at once. It is about
that man Dan Newman.”
Mr. Knight removed the pen from behind
his ear and settled back in his chair. He had
been expecting to hear something from Dan
Newman for a long time. Mr. Dawson began
and told him the whole story of Dan’s meeting
with the Confederates, his sudden promotion,
and all about it, and when he got done
there was an expression on the President’s face
that few people had seen there.
“Well, Dawson, you can go down there and
pick out any place you can find to draw your
wagon up,” said he. “You are right at home
here. Sprague, what is your opinion regarding
Dan Newman?”
278“My opinion is that he ought to be arrested
at once,” replied Mr. Sprague.
“And after that are you going to try him
by a court-martial?”
“That will be just as the men say. If he
is not tried by court-martial he will be shipped
off among his friends. They can promote
him faster than we can,” said Mr. Sprague,
with a smile.
“Well, get to work at once. Take as many
men as can surround Newman’s old shanty
and make prisoners of those boys. If the old
man says too much, bring him along, too.
Dawson, I shall send for you presently.”
“Very good, sir. I will be on hand when
I am wanted.”
Mr. Sprague lost no time in getting his men
together, and while he was hunting them up
Dawson held a short interview with his
father.
“Now, you take my horse,” said he, “and
when we get back we’ll get your nag. Of
course Leon is going to arrest Newman, and
I am going with him. Turn into any open
place you can find in the grove, and there
279make your camp. You will find them all
friendly here.”
Mr. Dawson mounted the horse and led the
wagon down the road, and just then Bud McCoy
came up. Bud was always on hand when
he was wanted. He got so in the habit of
staying close around to Mr. Sprague that it
was not long before the men came to call him
Colonel Sprague’s body-guard. But Bud
didn’t mind that. He said he got more to do
by being around there than he could anywhere
else, and that was what a Union volunteer
wanted in times like these.
“What’s up?” he exclaimed. “What does
the old man want with volunteers?”
“He is going out to arrest Dan Newman,”
said Leon.
“Well, there; I always thought that man
ought to be arrested,” said Bud. “He has
been preaching up secession docterings till you
can’t rest. What’s he been doing now?”
It did not take long for Leon to make Bud
understand the matter, and as he went on to
tell what Dan had been guilty of, the scowl
on the man’s face changed to one of furious
280hatred. When Leon ceased he struck his fist
into his open palm with a ringing slap.
“You’ll go, too, won’t you?”
“Of course I’ll go. I ain’t a-going to stand
no fooling like that. He has said enough to
hang him higher’n Haman.”
While they were talking Mr. Sprague was
seen coming at the head of five men whom
he had summoned to make the arrest. We
said he had summoned five men, but the news
of what he wanted to do had gradually worked
its way through the camp until there were
more than twenty men who were slinging on
their bullet-pouches and hurrying to catch up
with those who had been summoned. The
feeling was so great against Newman that all
hands wanted to have a finger in his arrest.
As he passed by the porch of the hotel, Leon,
Tom and Dawson joined him.
“There’s one thing about it,” said Leon,
looking back at the stalwart fellows behind him.
“No Newman can get away from this party.”
“You’re mighty right,” said one of the
men. “It’s a wonder to me that your father
didn’t arrest him long ago.”
281“See here, boys,” said Mr. Sprague, from
the head of the column. “Be quiet and still.
Those Newmans are like quails; they’ll run
and hide if they hear a twig snap. When we
come up with the house I’ll give the word, and
then you know what to do.”
The Newmans in trouble.
Silently the men fell in behind their leader,
and swiftly did they work their way toward
the shanty. It was probably half a mile to
where it was located, and although everybody
moved so cautiously that they were certain not
a twig snapped, they were not careful enough
to conceal their presence from the man they
were going to arrest. At length, when Mr.
Sprague dashed aside the thicket and stepped
out into the little space that surrounded the
cabin, they saw Newman and his wife at the
door. The former held in his hand an axe,
and the other had a skillet, which she flourished
to and fro as the men approached.
“What do you want here?” exclaimed
Newman, and he lifted his axe threateningly
in his hand.
“Surround the house, boys,” said Mr.
Sprague. “We’ll talk to you in a minute.”
282The most of the men were prompt to act
upon this suggestion, and no sooner had Bud
McCoy, who was leading one squad, appeared
behind the house than he caught a glimpse of
Cale Newman in the act of leaving it through
the window.
“Ah! here you are, my fine lad,” said Bud,
seizing him by the arm. “Where’s that
brother of yours?”
“Oh, now, what are you going to arrest me
for?” exclaimed Cale, who turned white and
trembled in every limb. “I ain’t done nothing.
Father, do you see what they are doing?”
“We hain’t done you no harm yet, but just
wait until we get back—”
Bud had been on the point of looking in at
the window to see if he could discover anything
of Dan, when, to his surprise, there came
something down on his head which knocked
the hat over his eyes and narrowly escaped
laying him out flat. It was the skillet in the
hands of the old woman; but Bud didn’t
wait to see what it was. He straightened
himself up by the side of the house, and when
the skillet descended a second time he caught
283it in his hand and came within an ace of jerking
the woman through the window. He
wrested the novel weapon from her and threw
it as far as possible into the bushes.
“Say, old woman, you want to keep your
distance!” said Bud, who was so angry that
he could scarcely talk straight. “You try
that again and I’ll have you through that
window!”
By this time the men from the front part
of the house had entered through the door—the
man with his axe didn’t make half the battle
his wife did—but no Dan was there to be
seen. You will remember that when he came
back he sat down with his pipe to smoke and
think over the perfidy of the captain in giving
him promotion when he had no business
to do it, and that he had not yet gone to bed.
While smoking he was startled by a noise in
the bushes. He listened, but the noise increased
and grew louder, and in an instant
it flashed upon him that his interview with
the rebel captain was known. That was
enough to start him into the bushes. Giving
his father a sign to call Cale, he was out of
284sight in a moment, and all efforts to find him
were useless.
“Here’s one of them, colonel!” said Bud,
coming around the house. “Now, where’s
the other?”
The man had been disarmed of his axe, and
the woman didn’t seem to have any more fight
left in her, the powerful jerk she got from Bud
satisfying her that the best thing she could
do was to keep quiet; but they had plenty of
talk left in them.
“Of all the mean things that I ever saw
this is the beat!” said Mrs. Newman, as she
gazed around at the number of men that had
come there to take her boy into custody.
“It is an outrage!” chimed in Mr. Newman,
stamping about over the floor as if he
were almost beside himself. “They come
with an army of men to take away one little
fellow! I hope you feel duly ashamed of
yourselves.”
“Let go my coat!” exclaimed Cale to the
man who held him tight by his collar to see
that he did not escape. “What are you going
to do with me?”
285“We’ll put you in jail; that’s what we’ll do
with you,” said the man. “You have
preached up secession long enough.”
“Say, father, are you going to let that old
jail stand?” demanded Cale, trying hard to
escape from the grip that held him. “You
said that you would cut it down if they took
any of us there.”
“Where’s your brother?” demanded Bud.
“He’s gone where you won’t find him,” retorted
Mrs. Newman. “Now, I want you to
turn my boy loose.”
“We have had enough out of you,” said
Mr. Sprague, who had looked all around in
the hope of finding Dan hidden somewhere in
the house. “If you say another word I’ll
take you along to keep Cale company. You
two stay here and watch the cabin, one in
front and one at the back,” he added, pointing
out two of the men he wished to obey his
orders. “Don’t let Newman and his wife go
out of doors, and if Dan comes back here,
gobble him up. I will relieve you in a couple
of hours. Forward, the rest of us.”
Taking Cale along the narrow path that
286led through the woods was as much as two men
wanted to do, he kicked and struggled so furiously.
As long as he remained within reach
of his father he constantly appealed to his
father to “cut down the jail” so that he could
not be confined there, and it was only when
Mr. Sprague threatened him with the gag that
he condescended to keep still. They hustled
him along the half a mile that led to Ellisville,
and when they arrived within sight of
the grove they found all the men there to see
how they had come out. Cale must have listened
to some things that astonished him, for
he heard one man say that hanging was too
good for such as he was, and advocated that
he be tied to a tree and left there. He was
marched through the crowd of men, some of
whom shook their fists in his face, and up
the stairs that led to the President’s office.
Then the men let go of his collar, and in
an instant every inch of standing-room was
filled. There wasn’t the least chance for escape.
“Well, Cale Newman,” said the President,
taking off his spectacles and settling back in
287his chair, “you tried to get those Confederates
last night to go after our boys.”
“I never,” began Cale.
“I am not here to argue the matter with
you; I am here to tell you what you have
done,” said Mr. Knight. “They offered you
promotion in case you would do something for
them.”
“Well, I’ll tell you how it was,” said Cale,
who didn’t think that he was betraying his
brother by the confession he was about to
make. “The captain offered to make me
lieutenant, but I didn’t think he had any right
to do it.”
“Ah!” said the President.
“Yes; and my brother he offered to make
captain. Dan was in for it, but I was a little
jubius. He offered to show them where Leon
and that rebel fellow was, but the captain said
he would go on and see how many men they
were at the bridge.”
“And that was the time they killed Bach
Noble,” said Mr. Knight, with suppressed
fury.
“Well, it was all in war times, wasn’t it?”
288“War times? What do you mean by that?”
ejaculated the President, while a restless
movement among the men told that they did
not uphold anybody in thus taking the life
of a sentry. Bach Noble was one of the
most popular lumbermen in the county, and
this method of shooting him just because it
“was war times” aroused all the anger there
was in them. A word from the President
would have seen Cale swung up to a tree in
less than no time.
“It was war times, wasn’t it?” inquired
Cale, who seemed to think he had said too
much.
“We’ll not discuss that. The Confederate
captain offered you and your brother promotion.
Then what?”
By a little questioning Mr. Knight got at
all that had transpired during their interview
with the Confederate captain, and the old soldiers
that were in there were amazed when
they saw how green Dan was. After thinking
a moment, he said:
“I don’t think that Cale has been guilty of
treason. What do you men say to that?”
289“No,” said a voice. “But he has been
giving out docterings that won’t go down with
this county.”
“That’s so,” chimed in others.
“I acknowledge that,” said Mr. Knight.
“But I say let’s shut him up and keep him
until we can catch his brother. He can’t be
far off.”
“I noticed that some of my men went into
the bushes to find him,” said Mr. Sprague.
“Some of them haven’t returned yet.”
“Very well. We’ll shut Cale up until we
find that slippery brother, and then we’ll examine
them both. We’ll find a room somewhere
in the hotel—I see Bass Kennedy has
got his corn in the jail and it would be hardly
worth while to take it out for the sake of one
prisoner—and, Eph, if you will keep watch
of him I will relieve you in a couple of hours.”
“Well, say, Knight,” began Cale.
“Mister Knight, if you please. I am mister
to all such fellows as you are. What were
you going to say?”
“I want you to understand that you dassent
hang me,” said Cale, not daring to venture
290upon the man’s surname again. Like
everybody else in the county he had learned
to call a man by his name without any fixture
to it, and he did not care to begin now.
His father had always spoken of him as
“Knight,” and Cale thought he was as good
as the President.
“Dassent, eh?” said Mr. Knight, with a
look of surprise. “You will find that we
dare do anything.”
“But I tell you that my father will tell
the folks at Mobile about it,” whined Cale,
almost ready to cry.
“There you have it. Shut him up. Eph,
you want to open the door every time you hear
the clock strike, to see if he is there. If there
is no further business before the meeting it
stands adjourned.”
Eph at once seized his prisoner and hurried
him before the proprietor of the hotel, who at
once hit upon a room that would do for his
confinement.
“We’ll put him high up, so that he can’t
get down,” said he. “We’ll put him up in
the third story. Come on.”
291Taking a key from behind his desk, the
proprietor led the way up the stairs until he
came to a small room with only one window
in it, pushed open the door and stood aside,
so that Cale could enter. There was literally
no furniture in the room, it all having been
removed down-stairs, so that it could be ready
to be moved whenever Mr. Faulkner got ready
to go to the swamp.
“Now, sir, you’ll stay here till you come
out to be hung,” said Eph, giving him a shove.
“Good mercy me!” exclaimed Mr. Faulkner,
opening his eyes in surprise. “Is that
what’s to become of him? Well, it’s a mighty
hard death for a young man to die.”
“Oh, no, they dassent hang me,” said Cale,
almost ready to cry again.
“If we do your pap will tell the folks in
Mobile about it,” said Eph, with a sneer.
“Well, you tell your folks in Mobile to go
somewhere and do something about it. Didn’t
you hear what our President said, that we dare
do anything?”
“He ain’t any more a President than I be,”
declared Cale, boldly.
292“Let me hear you say those words again
and I’ll begin operations right here!” said
Eph. “He’s as much of a President as Jeff
Davis, and I am not going to hear a word said
against him. Go in there!”
“Hold on. He hasn’t got a chair. I’ll get
one.”
Mr. Faulkner was gone not more than two
minutes and came back with a chair, which
was pushed into the room, and then the jailer
locked the door and put the key into his
pocket. Cale took a look around his prison,
and then walked to the window and took a
good look there, too. It wasn’t a great ways
to the ground, and Cale was certain, if his
enemies did not put a sentry there to see that
he did not drop down and take himself safe
off, his escape would be an assured thing. He
tried the window, and was gratified to find
that it yielded to his touch. Then he walked
back to the chair and seated himself upon it.
“Those Union men is mighty smart,” he
soliloquized. “Because I am three stories up
they think I am safe. I’ll show them how
easy it will be for me to hang by my hands
293and drop down. And they talk about hanging
me! I’ll bet they can’t do it.”
The muffled tread of the sentry came to his
ears, and finally, when the clock struck, Eph
opened the door to see if he was there.
CHAPTER XIV. LEON A PRISONER.
294
“Ah!” said Eph, “you’re there yet. You
are thinking over how you can escape
being hung for your treason. Well, that’s a
good way to put in one’s time.”
Cale did not answer. He sat with his
elbows on his knees and his head bowed upon
his hands, and he was thinking deeply—not
of how he could escape being hanged, but of
where he should go and what he should do in
case he made the attempt at escape successful.
He had heard Mr. Sprague, when he placed
sentinels over his house, one in front and another
behind—had heard him tell them not
to let his father or mother go out of the house—and
he knew it would be foolhardy to go
home after that. The sentries would capture
him and bring him back to his prison. Eph
took an unbounded delight in bothering the
295boy. He knew that the most that would be
done with Cale would be to ship him off among
his friends, and that would be the last of him.
He glanced at the window to see that it was
all right, and then went out, closing the door
behind him.
“That fellow keeps telling me that I am
going to be hung,” said Cale, raising his head
and glancing at the door through which Eph
had just gone out. “What would I give to
be in here at night when he comes in and finds
the window open and Cale Newman gone? I
tell you that would be worth some money.
Now, if I could only find Dan. He would
know where to go and what to do.”
For long hours Cale sat there and listened
to the tread of the sentinel, and every time
the clock struck down-stairs he lifted his head
and looked at the sentinel, who opened the
door and looked in. They were changed every
two hours, and finally it began to grow dark.
By that time Cale began to grow hungry, and
while he was thinking about it the door opened
and in came Mr. Faulkner, whose hands were
filled with bedclothes and eatables.
296“I can’t bear to have any man around me
who I know is hungry, even if he is going to
be hung,” said he. “Let me put this bread
and meat on the chair. There’s something
for you to lie down on. It’s pretty rough, I
know, but I expect you get rougher at home.
Good-night and pleasant dreams.”
Cale examined the bedclothes as well as
he could in the dark, and found that he had a
pillow and, what was better than all, two
quilts, which he could tear up, fasten to the
chair, and thus let himself down from the window.
He chuckled to himself and devoted
his attention to the viands. By the time he
had got through the sentry opened the door,
and Cale saw a light streaming in.
“Oh, I’m here yet,” said Cale.
“I know you are,” said the man. “And
you’re going to stay there until you come out
to be hung.”
“All right. But you won’t hang me until
you catch my brother. He had the most to do
with talking with that captain.”
“No matter. You was knowing to it all,
and that counts for a heap against you.”
297The sentry closed the door, and in an instant
Cale was on his feet. Things had to be
done in a hurry, and quietly, too, for in an
hour more the man would look in to see if his
prisoner was all right. It was something of a
job to tear the quilts; but fortunately he had
them all done at last, and when he knotted
them together he was glad to see how long
they were. He didn’t think he would be
obliged to drop more than ten feet.
The next thing was opening the window
and fastening the quilts to the chair; but he
accomplished it without alarming the sentinel,
and drawing in a long breath, he launched
himself over the side of the window and
heard the chair bang loudly as he threw his
weight upon the quilts. In his haste the
quilts did not do much toward assisting him
to the bottom, for he slid rapidly down them
and landed all in a heap under the window
just as the sentry opened the door to see what
was going on.
“Are you there yet, Cale?” asked the man,
as he looked all around the room. “By gracious,
he has gone!”
298With two jumps the man reached the window
and leaned over and looked out. Everything
was concealed by darkness, and even
the crouching Cale, who was close to the
wall, right under the man’s gaze, escaped his
notice. Then the man thought of his rifle.
He rushed back into the hall and got it, fired
it once out of the window, and then went
down-stairs to tell the men what an extraordinary
escape Cale had made. This was the
time for the prisoner to make the most of his
opportunity. He arose to his feet and made
good time across the narrow cotton-field that
lay between him and the woods, and he never
ceased running until he reached the banks of
a little bayou a mile back in the forest, where
he stopped and sat down to rest.
“There, sir,” said Cale, wiping the big
drops of perspiration from his forehead. “I’ve
done it; as sure as the world I have done it.
That is the first time I ever was put in jail
for something I didn’t do. Let them get somebody
else and talk about hanging them. Now,
if I could only find Dan.”
Cale did not take very long to rest himself
299before he got upon his feet again and cautiously
worked his way toward his father’s
shanty. The darkness had no effect upon
Cale, for he took his course as straight as he
could have done in the daytime. The sentries
might have been removed by this time, but
all the same he made his way stealthily
through the bushes, as though the sentries
were there and liable at any minute to jump
out and make a prisoner of him. It would
never do to be captured again, for the next
time he would be put where it would be impossible
for him to get away. But he walked
right onto Dan, who had been up to the house
for the same purpose; that is, he wanted to see
if there was any chance for him to communicate
with his father. As Cale was working his
way cautiously through the bushes, going so
still that he could not hear the thicket rattle
behind him, he was startled out of a year’s
growth by hearing a voice close at his side
mutter:
“I’ll be dog-gone if there ain’t Cale!”
“D—Dan, is that you?” stammered Cale,
so overjoyed that he could scarcelyscarcely speak.
300“You’re right, it’s me,” said Dan. “Where
you been?”
“They had me shut up in jail,” was the
answer.
“In the calaboose?”
“No, in the hotel; and they left one window
there without any sentry to guard it, and
I just come out.”
“Well, sir, I will say hereafter that you’ve
got pluck. But come up here. I’ve got
something to show you.”
Cale began feeling his way toward the place
where Dan was, and in a few moments he
placed his hand upon his shoulder. But
there was something else that he touched
there. It was a revolver.
“Why, Dan, where have you been to get
that?” asked Cale, in surprise.
“I have not only got that, but the man
what owns it,” returned Dan, with the same
pride he would have exhibited had he won an
enemy’s colors in battle. “I’ve got Leon
Sprague.”
Cale was so astonished that he couldn’t say
anything just then.
301“While you have been shut up in jail I
have been working for the glorious cause,”
said Dan. “I got him just as easy as falling
off a log. I’ve heard so much tell about Leon’s
courage that I was kinder afraid to tackle him;
but pshaw! I handled him as easy as you
would handle a baby.”
Let us now go back for a moment and tell
what had happened to Dan while Cale was
being shut up in the hotel. When he came
back from holding his interview with the
Confederate captain he did not go to bed, as
Cale did, but filled his pipe with negro-twist
and lay down on the ground to smoke and
think. He lay there for an hour—he didn’t
want any breakfast; besides, he was getting
tired of corn-bread and bacon, anyway—building
his air-castles and dreaming how proud
he would be if he could only hold a position
equal to the captain’s.
“Boots on his feet that came up to his
knees and gloves on his hands that came clear
up to there,” said Dan, motioning with his
finger to a point on his arm that came clear
up to his elbow. “And didn’t he handle that
302horse gay? She was a frisky animal, but he
managed her as easy as if he was seated in a
rocking-chair. And, dog-gone him, he went
and fooled me!”
By this time his father had eaten his breakfast
and came out to his usual place on the
threshold, pipe a-going. He took a few pulls
at the tobacco, cast his eye up to the clouds to
see what the weather was going to be, and was
then ready to begin his topic of conversation.
“The South is going to whip,” said he. “It
don’t stand to reason that one county in the
midst of a State that’s in rebellion is going to
whip all the counties around her.”
“But, father, do you think they are going
to fight?” asked Dan.
“Fight! No, they won’t. I only wish I
could get my position as colonel. I would
show them how to clean these men out.”
“And the men here wouldn’t give you the
position of Secretary of War,” said Dan.
“What would you have done if you had got
that position?”
“Eh? Well, I would have done a heap
more than that old Sprague is doing, I can
303tell you that. I would have made you boys
officers, to begin with. You would make a
bully captain, Dan.”
“That’s just what I think, and—and—I
ought to be one, too.”
“Yes; and think of the money we would
make. That’s what makes me so down on all
these officers. That must be worth six or eight
thousand dollars a year.”
“Whew!” whistled Dan. “And old Sprague
is making that much?”
“I have no doubt of it. At any rate they
might have offered it to me, and I would ask
how much they was going to give. If the
price didn’t suit me—What’s the matter?”
added Mr. Newman, seeing that Dan removed
his pipe from his mouth and sat up straight
on the ground. “Do you hear anything?”
“Father, there is some one coming along
through the bushes,” said Dan, involuntarily
lowering his voice to a whisper. “And they
are coming fast, too.”
Mr. Newman listened, and presently he
heard the faint rustle of the thicket as a body
of men worked its way through them. It was
304still very faint, but it came plainly to his
ears.
“I’ve got to go,” said Dan, hurriedly.
“You call Cale.”
“What have you been a-doing?” said his
father, in astonishment. “You stay where
you are, and if they should put one of you
in the calaboose I’d cut it down as soon as I
could get to it with my axe.”
“I know, but I’ll tell you at some future
time what I have been a-doing. Call Cale.”
Dan turned and made a dive for the bushes,
and no sooner had he disappeared than Mr.
Sprague came in sight. While Mr. Sprague
was holding his colloquy with the father and
mother, who stood at the door, and Bud McCoy
had gone around the house in time to
catch Cale Newman coming out of the
window, Leon noticed the pipe which Dan
had thrown down, and which was not yet extinguished.
He took a few pulls at it, and it
went as lively as it ever did.
“Dan is out here in the bushes,” said he to
Tom and young Dawson, who remained close
at his side. “Let’s go out and capture him.”
305“All right,” said Dawson. “Let us spread
out a little, so that we will cover more ground.
Be in a hurry, now.”
Leon was out of sight before he had ceased
speaking. He made no attempt to draw his
revolver, for he did not think it would be
worth while. He had always known Dan,
and knew him to be a lazy, worthless fellow,
but he was little prepared for what happened
afterward. He was looking everywhere for
Dan—he must have been half a mile or more
from his friends by this time—when suddenly,
as he pressed down a thicket to look into it,
he felt something on his back and he was
thrown violently on his face. Knowing in a
minute what it was, his hand went behind
him, but he felt some fingers at work with his
own, and his revolver was torn from his grasp.
A feeling of horror came over him when he
knew that he was disarmed. The weight was
lifted off his back, he was rolled over, so that
he could see what he had to contend with,
and his own revolver was looking him in the
face. It was cocked, too, and it needed only
the pressure of a finger to make all things
306blank to him. It was Dan Newman who was
bending above him. His face was very pale,
but there was a glint in his eyes that spoke
volumes.
“Not a word out of you,” said Dan, fiercely.
“Not a word out of you. Roll over, with your
face downwards.”
Leon had no alternative but to obey. There
was shoot in Dan’s eyes, and Leon saw it. He
rolled over, and Dan arose to his feet and took
off his coat, and then his shirt, which he proceeded
to tear up into small strips. It was
then a task of no difficulty to bind Leon’s
arms. It was done in less time than it takes
to tell it, and then Leon was pulled to a sitting
posture, while Dan stood and looked down at
him.
“I’ve got you, ain’t I?” said Dan, who
hardly knew whether he stood on his head or
his heels. “Now, what are you going to do
about it?”
“I don’t see that I can do anything,” said
Leon, wondering if he was to give up and remain
a prisoner in the hands of this man.
“You can do what you please with me.”
307“And it pleases me to take you down to
Mobile and give you up to our folks,” said
Dan. “Mebbe they’ll think that my company
is in a condition for me to command it. It
ain’t often that a man can get the son of a
Secretary of War prisoner, is it?”
Leon did not care to talk any longer. He
knew what Dan was going to do with him,
and he did not feel much elated over it. He
sat there in silence and watched Dan, who
was grinning all over and hardly knew
whether or not his good fortune had stood
him so well in stead or not. He wanted to be
sure about it, and so began a conversation
with Leon; or rather, he talked and Leon
listened. He examined his revolver repeatedly,
took aim at certain spots on the
trees, and acted for all the world like one
who was bereft of his senses. Having spent
an hour in this way, and being at last satisfied
that Mr. Sprague had looked around the
house without being able to find him, Dan
thought he would go home and hold a short
consultation with his father.
“The old man will be dreadful glad I’ve
308got you,” said Dan, wondering how he was
going to leave Leon so that he wouldn’t arouse
the whole neighborhood by his yelling, “and
perhaps he’ll think I had better do something
else with you. I want to go home and get a
shirt, too, for these nights are mighty damp.”
“Does the old man believe as you do?”
asked Leon. He thought it would be policy
to learn all he could concerning the belief of
the squatter’s family, for he did not expect to
remain a prisoner all his life. When he returned
he would know how to go to work.
The first thing he did would be to put all that
family under arrest.
“Of course the old man believes as I do,”
said Dan. “The South is going to send men
enough in here to whip you. I tell you, Leon,
you fellows are crazy.”
“What are you going to do with that?”
asked Leon, referring to a piece of shirt which
Dan was carefully folding.
“I am going to use it as a gag,” said Dan.
“You must think that I am a pretty smart
man to go away and leave you with your
mouth wide open. Now, I guess this will do.”
309“I assure you that I won’t halloo,” exclaimed
Leon, who did not like to have any
of Dan’s clothing in his mouth. “Try me
and see.”
“No, I reckon I’d best be on the safe side.
If you will let this go into your mouth, well
and good; if not, it will have to go in anyway,”
said Dan, picking up his revolver.
There was but one course open to Leon, and
he submitted to have a wad of shirt tucked
into his mouth that almost made him sick. It
was tied hard and fast, too, so that he could
not get rid of it. Dan next turned his attention
to his feet, which he bound with another
piece of shirt, and fastened them to a tree so
that he could not get up. Then he looked at
the way his hands were fastened and got up,
shoving the revolver into his pocket.
“I won’t be gone but a little while,” said
Dan, straightening up the thicket in which
Leon lay. “I reckon I’ll bring the old man
back here with me. You will be glad to see
him, I know. My father might have been top-notch
in this county if it hadn’t been for your
old man. But no, they wouldn’t have him for
310Secretary of War, and now they see what they
made by it.”
Dan took one more look at his prisoner to
see that his bonds were all safe, and then went
away. He was hardly out of sight before
Leon began tugging and twisting at his fastenings
in the hope of being able to get rid of
some of them; but the harder he worked the
more he exhausted himself. Dan had done
his work well, and finally Leon gave it up as
a bad job. Dan was gone fully an hour, and
when he came back Leon noticed that he
didn’t have a shirt on. He noticed, too, that
he was in pretty bad humor.
“They have got two sentries up there to the
house, dog-gone them, and I guess they must
be waiting for me,” said Dan, as he began to
undo the fastenings that confined Leon’s
mouth. “They think I’ll come back after
awhile, but they don’t know Dan Newman.”
When Leon felt the gag removed from his
mouth he coughed once or twice and acted as
if he was about to expel the contents of his
stomach; but after awhile he was able to reply
to Dan’s question.
311“It makes you sick, don’t it?” asked Dan.
“Yes, and that shirt would make anybody
sick. I suppose they have got the sentries
there in order to catch you when you come
back.”
“But I say they don’t know me,” retorted
Dan. “I didn’t go near the house till I had
looked around a bit, and then I saw those men
there and I came away. They won’t let me
get even a shirt. I wonder if they have got
Cale?”
“Where was Cale when the men came up
to capture you?”
“He was in the house and fast asleep.”
“Then of course they have got him. He
didn’t come out of the front door or I would
have seen them. It rather bothers a man to
be up all night, don’t it?”
“Who said I was up all night?” asked Dan.
“I do. You were up all night, and held a
conference with that rebel captain.”
“Who’s got a better right? You fellows
here in this county won’t give me anything,
and I have a right to go where I can get to be
a captain.”
312“Well, untie my feet, will you?” said
Leon, who didn’t seemseem disposed to discuss
this matter with Dan. “You have got them
fastened to that sapling until they hurt me.”
Dan was accommodating enough to untie his
feet, but he didn’t make any move towards
untying his hands. After that he sat down and
held a long talk with his prisoner, who, considering
the situation in which he was placed,
took the matter very coolly. He knew he
couldn’t get away, but there would come other
times, he thought, when his hands would be
at liberty, and then he would try his best at
escape. They passed the afternoon in this
way, and finally it began to grow dark. Leon
was getting hungry, and he knew that Dan
was bothered the same way, and consequently
he was relieved when his captor said he would
try and reach home again and get something.
“But first I must tie you up,” said he.
“Now, what’s the use of going to all that
trouble?” said Leon, who couldn’t bear the
thought of having that shirt thrust into his
mouth for the second time. “I didn’t halloo
before.”
313“No, of course you didn’t,” said Dan, with
a laugh. “’Cause why, the gag wouldn’t let
you. I won’t be gone but a little while, and
then I will untie you.”
Leon yielded with a very bad grace while
Dan was placing the gag in his mouth; and
well he might, for there was the revolver, lying
within easy reach of his captor’s hand.
He was tied up just as he was before, and
Dan, after a few parting words, disappeared in
the darkness.
“Oh,“Oh, how I wish Tom Howe knew where I
was!” panted Leon, after he had tried in vain
to get rid of some of his bonds. “I’ll bet you
that I wouldn’t be here much longer. Now,
what will be done with me if I am given up to
the rebels? Beyond a doubt I’ll be hanged,
for of course they will take revenge on my
father through me. Well, if I go up there
will be one less to fight them.”
Dan was gone longer than he was before,
and when he came back Leon was surprised
to hear him talking to somebody. Of course,
it was so dark that he couldn’t see anything,
but as his captor drew near he began to recognize
314Cale Newman’s voice. Leon was thunderstruck.
He did not know where Cale had
been confined, but by some inadvertence on
the part of his jailers he had got away. Leon
was impatient to hear Cale’s version of it.
CHAPTER XV. A FRIEND IN NEED.
315
“Well, sir, you have got him as easy as
falling off a log, haven’t you?” said
Cale, gleefully, as he sat down on the ground
beside Leon and passed his hands over him
from head to foot. “It’s Leon, as sure as I
am alive, and you’ve got him tied up hard and
fast,” he added, as he felt of the prisoner’s
face.
“Hold on till I take the gag out of his
mouth,” said Dan. “He talks as sassy as you
please.”
“He does? Then I would punch him in
the mouth for it,” said Cale, who showed that
he could be brave enough when he had the
power.
“No, that won’t do,” said Dan, who forthwith
proceeded to take the shirt out of Leon’s
mouth. “You are an officer—”
316“Oh, get out!” sneered Cale. “I’ll bet you
when our officers get him into their hands
they’ll treat him worse than we will.”
“They didn’t treat them so at Mobile when
we saw those prisoners brought in there,” retorted
Dan. “We are officers, and I’ll bet
you that I will get some men to command
when I give this fellow up.”
Leon took a few moments in which to get
over the effect of the shirt being in his
mouth, after which he was ready to talk to
Cale; for, as we said, he was impatient to
hear his version of the story of his escape.
“How did you get away, Cale?” said he.
“You thought they had me hard and fast,
didn’t you?” said Cale, shaking his fist at
Leon. “Well, they didn’t. They had me
in the third story of the hotel, and once,
when the sentinel wasn’t looking, I tore up
the quilts they had given me to sleep on and
dug out.”
“Didn’t they have any sentry under the
window?” said Leon, astonished at such a want
of foresight on the part of the Union men.
“No, they didn’t; and I took note of that
317the first thing when I went in. I stayed up
close to the building while the sentry was
looking out, and when he fired his gun to let
them know that I had gone I dug out across
the cotton-field until I struck the woods. I
wondered what I should do without Dan, and
I run onto him the first thing. Now, what are
you going to do with this fellow?”
“As soon as it comes daylight we’ll take
him down to Mobile.”
“Ah! that’s the place for you,” said Cale,
giving Leon a pinch. “You won’t be riding
around on that horse of yours and making us
all wish we had one, too. You’ve got the revolver,
Dan, and now I’ll have the horse. I
wish father could get away from the house.
Mebbe he would make you stretch hemp right
where you are.”
“Well, Cale, as I didn’t have any sleep last
night I’ll lie down,” said Dan. “Do you
reckon you can watch him while I doze a
little?”
“You’re right, I can,” said Cale, with savage
emphasis. “Give me your revolver.
Now, let us see him make a move to get away.
318I’ll stretch him out so stiff that he won’t be of
any use down there at Mobile.”
“That fellow has got a mighty nice shirt on
that I’d like to have,” said Dan, as he drew
his coat about him, but couldn’t confine it, for
it had no buttons. “As soon as it comes
daylight I’ll make him shed that linen. I
ain’t a-going among our officers with no shirt
on.”
“Why don’t you make him take it off
now?” said Cale. “I’ll watch him so that he
can’t run away.”
“No, I guess I’d better be on the safe side.
Let it go until to-morrow.”
Leon was glad that he had such a reputation.
He was able to sleep warm for one
night at least. His clothing was comfortable,
and his coat being buttoned up to the chin,
and being protected from the keen wind by
the thicket in which he was placed, he slept as
warm as he would if he had been at home.
The only thing was, his hands hurt him. He
knew it would be of no use to appeal to Dan,
so he gritted his teeth and said nothing.
When Leon awoke it was broad daylight.
319Both his captors were asleep. The revolver
that Cale threatened him with was lying by
his side, and all he needed was his hands at
liberty to turn the tables on them in good
shape.
“By gracious!” muttered Leon; and once
more he began trying the effect of Dan’s
knots. But they were there to stay. He
could not move his hands at all. “Halloo!
here,” he added aloud. “Do you want to go
to sleep and let me run off? I am cold, and
it is time I was moving.”
“Well, now, I’ll be shot!” said Dan, opening
his eyes and rubbing them, while Cale
made a clutch for the revolver. “It was good
of you not to go away.”
“You can thank yourself for it,” said Leon.
“If I could have got away I’d had my revolver
in my hands, and then you would have
gone to Ellisville.”
“Yes; and what would we be doing all
that time?” said Cale.
“You shut up!” answered Dan. “You said
you could watch him, and so you did. You
went fast asleep watching him.”
320“I only just closed my eyes, that’s all,”
protested Cale. “If he’d a-made any move—”
“Oh, shut up, and let’s be moving,” interrupted
Dan. “The sooner we get him where
our officers are, the sooner we’ll be rid of him
and get something to eat.”
Leon found that he was somewhat stiff
when he came to get upon his feet, but before
they had gone half a mile he stepped off with
his accustomed free stride. Dan led the way
with the revolver in his hand, and he was
considerate enough to keep the bushes from
striking his prisoner in the face. Leon knew
how far it was to the river, but the distance
seemed to lengthen out wonderfully since he
last passed that way. He kept a bright look-out
in the hope that he would meet some of
the Union men, but in this he was disappointed.
“Now, right up that way, not more than a
mile, is a company of your fellows stationed
there to watch the bridge,” said Dan, stopping
at length. “How much would you give to
holler and bring them down here?”
“Don’t talk to him that way,” exclaimed
321Cale, disturbed by the thought. “The first
thing you know he will holler.”
“Then this revolver will settle his hash,”
said Dan, savagely. “Let him holler, if he
wants to.”
A little further on came the river, whereupon
Dan backed off for a few feet and told
Cale to undo the prisoner’s hands. Cale was
prompt to obey, and the first thing that Leon
did when he felt his arms free was to stretch
them above his head, as if he enjoyed having
them at liberty once more. He did not make
a motion to escape, for there was the revolver
looking him in the face.
“Now take off your clothes, you two, and
be ready to swim the river,” said Dan.
“Am I going over there with him?” asked
Cale, and he was thoroughly frightened at the
prospect.
“You go first, and when you get over there
you can pick up a club. I’ll keep his clothes
behind with me, and the revolver, too, and if
he wants to run off naked let him go. I bet
you he’ll be glad to have his clothes again.”
The two boys lost no time in taking off
322their clothes, and there was one thing that
Leon didn’t like pretty well. He would lose
his shirt by the operation; but there was no
help for it that he could see. In due time the
boys were all over, and Leon saw his shirt go
upon the back of Dan Newman.
“There, now, I feel like myself again,” exclaimed
Dan. “I can go among our officers
now and have a shirt on. Button your coat
up tight, Leon, and no wind can get in. Now
you must have your hands tied again.”
This much being accomplished, the prisoner
and his captors went ahead at a more rapid
pace, the woods being more open, and they
held their course parallel with the main road.
Their object was to get below the bend, where
they would be out of sight of the sentries.
At the end of half an hour they emerged
from the woods, and striking the road went
on their way with increased speed.
“Don’t you know some place along here
where you can go and get something to eat?”
asked Leon. “I could travel twice as fast if
I had something on my stomach.”
“I was just thinking of that thing myself,”
323answered Dan. “I am going to stop at the
first house I meet. And remember, Leon, no
trying to get away,” he added, showing the
revolver he still carried in his hand.
Leon didn’t make any reply. He knew
now that he was beyond all reach of help,
and after he got something to eat—that was
the first thing on the programme—he must
make up his mind to face “our officers,” who
wouldn’t be apt to treat him any too well.
But first one house was passed and then another,
and as neither Dan nor Cale had the
courage to go in and beg something to eat,
Leon finally gave it up as a bad job, and
thought he would have to go on to Mobile before
he could get a mouthful to stay his appetite.
At last they came along to a place that Leon
remembered. The first time he saw it there
was a pleasant farm-house, and corn-cribs and
negro quarters in abundance; but now everything
had been given up to the flames, and
some of the ruins were still smoking.
“Well, I declare, somebody has been
burned out, here!” said Dan. “Is this the
place where you came last night, Leon?”
324“I was around here somewhere,” replied
Leon.
“Then here’s where that rebel fellow lives,”
continued Dan. “It serves him just right.
Before I take an oath to support a government
and then go back on it I would deserve to be
burned out myself.”
Leon did not make any reply to this, for
he thought that Dan might be burned out and
still not lose a great deal by it; but he did not
want to say so for fear of making him angry.
His captors had treated him all right so far,
but he knew what the consequences would be
if he got them down on him. While he was
thinking about it, and wondering how Tom
Howe and young Dawson would look upon
his absence—they certainly would know he
had been captured—they came suddenly
around another bend in the road, and saw
before them a long line of horsemen who were
travelling as though they had some place to
reach before night. He took a second glance
at them, and saw that they were all dressed in
Confederate uniform.
“There’s some of our men now!” exclaimed
325Dan, so overjoyed that he took off his hat
and waved it to them. “But, Cale, that
ain’t our captain in front, is it? He was a
big man, and this is a little one. There must
be a whole regiment of them, and if that is
the case they are going up to whip the Union
men.”
Leon’s heart fairly came up into his mouth.
He would know soon what the rebels were
going to do with him. The Confederates discovered
them as soon as they came around the
bend, and they kept a close watch of them
until they came up. The man in front certainly
was not a captain. He had a mark on
his collar that no one had ever seen before.
“Well, boys, where are you going?” inquired
the man; and they found out before
the interview was over that his men called
him colonel. Of course, Dan looked at him
with a great deal of respect after he found out
what his rank was.
“Yes, we’ve got a Yankee prisoner here,”
said Dan, who was expected to do all the
talking. “He is the son of the Secretary of
War up in Jones county.”
326“He is, hey?” exclaimed the colonel, beginning
to show some interest in the matter.
“Well, we’ll send him right down to Mobile the
first thing we do. Are you from Jones county?”
Dan replied that he was.
“Then you must know all about the men
up there,” said the colonel. “How many
have they got, anyway?”
“A thousand fighting men,” replied Dan.
“And I tell you, you will want more men
than you have got here to whip them.”
“I don’t know about that. We have got a
thousand men here in this regiment, and they
are all disciplined, and when they draw up
against your crowd of bushwhackers you will
see some scattering. Now, we want to get
across that bridge; how far is it from here?”
“You will find it right straight up this
road about twenty miles. You want to be
careful, because they have got ten men hidden
up there, and they are all good shots.”
“We will take care of them, don’t you fear.
Now, after we get across the bridge we must
deploy in line of battle; how far will we have
to go before we can strike their main line?”
327“It is ten miles from the bridge to Ellisville,
and when you get there you will find
all the men you want.”
“Well, now, see here: suppose you go with
me? You know all the crooks and turns of
the road that leads—”
“But, Captain,” began Dan.
“This gentleman is a colonel,” interrupted
the man who rode by his commanding officer’s
side.
“A colonel!” exclaimed Dan, somewhat
surprised to find that he had found the man
who held the position his father was working
for. “Colonel, I am glad to meet you,” he
added, advancing and thrusting out a dirty,
begrimed hand to the man, who merely
reached down and touched the tips of it with
his fingers. “My father calculates to hold
the position of colonel when he has delivered
up all the head men of the county into your
hands. But, Colonel, I want to see this man
located in Mobile. I had a heap of trouble to
gobble him, and I don’t want to lose him.”
But that wasn’t the principal reason why
Dan did not want to go back. Some of the
328men at the bridge would be certain to recognize
him, and if he escaped the bullets which
they would send after him he would not dare
go home.
“We’ll take care of him,” said the colonel.
“The son of the Secretary of War is too
valuable to lose.”
“What do you reckon you will do with
him, Colonel?”
“Hang him, probably.”
Leon heard the words, and looked around
at Dan and Cale. Dan smiled upon him as
if he had just heard a glorious piece of news,
but Cale was grinning with delight. He said
to himself: “If Leon is going to be hung I’ll
have his horse.”
“Adjutant, pick out a good, trusty man to
march this fellow to Mobile,” said the colonel.
“A faithful fellow, mind you.”
“Captain Cullom, have you such a man in
your company?” said the adjutant, turning to
the officer who commanded the advance of the
line.
“Yes, sir. Ballard, step out here!”
The man referred to, who was one of the
329leading fours of his company, urged his horse
to the front and brought his hand to his hat
with a military salute. Then he slung his
carbine upon his shoulder and drew his revolver
from his belt. Leon looked at him, and
he told himself that if he had been a rebel
he would have trusted that man with his life.
He was young, not more than twenty-four,
but he was from Texas, and had been a cowboy
all his life; consequently he was a little
better clad than the majority of his comrades.
“Ballard, you take this man before General
Lowery and tell him that I sent him,” said
the colonel. “Tell him that he is the son of
a high-up man of Jones county, and let him
do what he pleases with him.”
“Very good, sir,” answered Ballard.
“I wouldn’t untie his hands,” continued
the colonel, “but you have got your revolver
in your hands and can easily stop him in case
he runs for the woods.”
“Very good, sir,” replied Ballard. “Forward,
march! Go off at one side of the road
so as to be out of the way of the column.”
330“Now, two of the men must make room
for these boys,” said the colonel. “Forward!”
Dan and Cale were quickly provided with
places to ride behind two of the cavalrymen,
the adjutant shouted “Forward!” with all the
strength of his lungs, and Leon stood at one
side of the road and watched the men as they
marched by. He had heard a good deal about
Texas, and he finally came to the conclusion
that all the soldiers were from that region.
They were all long-haired, and many of them
were unacquainted with combs, but there were
some among them who were dressed like his
cowboy, with handkerchiefs around their
necks, broad tarpaulins on their heads and
fine boots on their feet. A good many of
them had a word to say to Ballard and his
prisoner, and they were not of the kind that
was calculated to encourage Leon. When
Leon wasn’t looking Ballard raised his pistol
and took a deliberate aim at his head—a proceeding
that was welcomed by shouts from all
the men who saw it.
“That’s the way; shoot him down!” shouted
331one of the soldiers. “There will be one less
Yank for us left to fight, anyway.”
“Now, sonny, I guess all the men have
passed,” said Ballard. “Take the middle of
the road and travel ahead as if you were
going for the doctor. Mobile is a long ways
from here.”
Leon accordingly took to the road and
plodded along at his best pace; but he was
wearied, and his hands hurt him so that he
was on the point of urging his captor to untie
them for a little while, so that he could stretch
his arms and get the kinks out of them. He
walked along until he had got around the first
bend, out of sight of the cavalrymen, and then
Ballard, after looking all around and up and
down the road, to make sure that there was
nobody in sight, leaned forward and whispered
to him:
“Say, sonny, go into the woods.”
Leon turned around and faced him. He
had heard that was one way the Confederates
had of getting rid of their prisoners, namely,
to take them into the woods and “lose” them.
They would shoot them down and leave them
332there. Leon couldn’t help himself if Ballard
had decided to lose him, for his hands were
tied.
“What will I go in there for?” he asked,
and one wouldn’t suppose that his life was in
danger, to hear him talk.
“Go into the woods quick!” said Ballard.
“I’m Union.”
The revulsion of feeling was so great that
Leon staggered and would have fallen to the
ground if Ballard had not ridden up and
caught him by the collar.
“Go in there quick before some one sees
you!” said Ballard, looking up and down the
road as he spoke. “I wouldn’t hurt the hair
of your head. I’ve wanted to get with those
Jones county people ever since I have been
here, and now I have got a chance at last. Go
into the woods quick as you can walk. I’ll
untie your hands in there.”
Leon waited to hear no more, but dived
straight into the bushes, and he never stopped
until he had gone half a mile from the road.
But fast as he went, Ballard was close behind
him. When he stopped his captor dismounted
333and pulled a big bowie-knife from his boot.
One blow was enough, and Leon’s arms were
free.
“Ballard, I never shall forget you!” said
Leon, and his voice was somewhat husky as
he spoke. “I have been wondering how I
should get away, but I never thought that
you would help me. You are a friend indeed.
But first I want to know if you have anything
to eat in your haversack? I haven’t had a
bite since yesterday.”
Ballard at once unslung his haversack, and
while Leon was regaling himself on the corn-bread
and bacon, which tasted wonderfully
good to him, he told Leon how he happened
to go into the service, while he knew that the
South was going to be utterly impoverished.
He owned a fine cattle-ranch in Texas, and
when the Southern men around him began to
talk of going into her service he found that
he had to go, too, or run the risk of stretching
hemp.
“I didn’t want to go for a long time,” said
Ballard, “and when I found that my neighbors
were all giving in their names, and began
334to look cross-eyed at me and make remarks
that people who were not for us were against
us, I saw it was high time I was doing something;
so I got an Englishman to take care
of my place, and here I am. I tell you, there
is a lot of men in the rebel army that think
just the same as I do.”
“Let them come over into our county and
we’ll treat them right,” said Leon. “Father
says we will have at least ten thousand men
by-and-by, and it is going to take more than
double that number of men to whip us. Now,
Ballard, I am much obliged to you for this
breakfast, and I am now able to go on. Are
you going to take your horse with you?”
“Oh, I couldn’t think of going anywhere
without that horse,” said Ballard, hastily.
“I’ll warrant that if the rebels went by within
ten feet of us he wouldn’t say a word.”
Leon at once stepped out at his old pace,
and Ballard kept close behind him. The
woods were so thick that they couldn’t stop to
do much talking, and by the time it began to
grow dark they were on the banks of the
creek.
335“Now, we are half way home,” said Leon.
“I would like to know just how that cavalry
came out in attacking our men. I’ve listened
every once in a while, but I didn’t hear any
sound of rifles or carbines.”
“Probably they are too far away for us to
hear them,” said Ballard. “If your men will
fight—”
“Oh, they will fight, and there are some of
them with us who have repeatedly declared
that they won’t take any prisoners. If they
drive our men back to the swamp they are
whipped, sure. By gracious! what’s that? It
sounds like a couple of horses coming through
the woods.”
Ballard took his horse by the bridle to hold
his head down in case he wanted to call to
them and listened intently. Soon the measured
tread of the horses could be heard coming
through the woods, and in a few minutes a
couple of rebels appeared on the opposite
bank of the creek and but a short distance
above them. One of the Confederates had no
hat on, his left arm was hanging loose by his
side and his companion was holding him on
336his horse. They paused for a few moments, as
if they didn’t know what to do with the
creek in front of them, and then the uninjured
one urged the horses in, and in a few strokes
of the hoofs they were safe across.
“I’ll tell you what’s the matter with our
side,” said Ballard, as soon as the two rebels
had disappeared in the bushes. “We have
been whipped!”
“Do you mean to say that our fellows have
whipped the cavalry?” inquired Leon, and he
was surprised and delighted to hear it.
“That is just what I mean. If the cavalry
had been successful they would have kept to
the road and taken some prisoners with them;
but their being scattered in this way makes
me think that they have been worsted. You
saw that man who was being held on his
horse? Well, he was wounded.”
“We have got to swim the creek before we
can get over,” said Leon. “I am impatient
to see how my father came out. Take off
your clothes and hold them above your head.
I’ll carry your carbine for you.”
Leon worked in earnest now, for his father
337had been in danger and he was not there to
share it. In hardly less time than it takes to
tell it he was on the other side of the bayou
and pulling on his clothes. Ballard was not
very far behind him, and seeing how impatient
Leon was he donned his uniform with
all possible haste, after which they struck out
for Ellisville.
CHAPTER XVI. A FIGHT AND ITS RESULTS.
338
Let us now return to the cavalrymen and
see how they came out in their assault
on the Union men who had been left to guard
the bridge, and particularly to tell how Dan
and Cale felt when they found themselves
going back among those who would be sure
to know them. Cale was frightened, and
consequently he said nothing, but Dan was
just scared enough to have plenty of talk in
him.
“Take that man up behind you,” said Captain
Cullom, addressing himself to one of the
leading fours of his company.
“Up you come with a jump,” said the man,
reaching down to catch Dan by the hand.
“Oh, now, I tell you I don’t want to get up
there,” said Dan. “Those people at the bridge
339will surely know me, and I’ll be tumbled off
with the first volley you get.”
“Get on up there,” said Captain Cullom,
and he reached over as if he was going to
draw his sword.
“Give us your hand,” said the man, getting
impatient. “Now throw your leg over the
back of the horse. You are Southerner
enough to do that.”
Dan finally made out to get on the cavalryman’s
horse, but it was more the effects of the
sword, which had leaped half-way out of its
scabbard while the captain was talking to
him. Cale was already seated behind his
man, and in response to the adjutant’s order,
“Forward!” they moved toward the bridge.
Dan was more than half-inclined to cry when
he found that he must go whether he wanted
to or not, and the man he was with began to
torment him.
“Oh, they will give it to you if they catch
you up there,” said he, in a tone so low that
the captain couldn’t hear it. “Say, Charlie,
you remember what they done to those two
fellows they caught down to Mobile?”
340“You’reYou’re right, I do,” replied the man thus
addressed. “They hung ’em up to the nearest
tree.”
“What did they do that for?” asked Dan.
“Because they wanted to betray their friends
into our hands,” said the man.
“But these ain’t friends of mine,” replied
Dan, “I’ve been down on them ever since I
have been here.”
“No matter. You know what we will do
to them if we catch them, and the others will
serve you the same way. I would rather be
in my boots than in yours.”
“But you are going to lick them, ain’t
you?”
“Lick them? Of course we are. That’s
what we are going up here for. Have you
got any friends there?”
“I’ve got a father and a mother.”
“Then they had better get out. We’re
going to sweep everything clean. There won’t
be hide nor hair left of a Union man to-night.”
“Now, if you will let me get off and go
through the woods,” said Dan, “I can warn
my relatives.”
341“Can’t do it,” said the man, shaking his
head. “Didn’t you hear what the captain
said? If you were in the service you would
know how to obey orders.”
“Silence in the ranks!” commanded Captain
Cullom, and this put a stop to all conversation
between them, although Dan had many
things that he wanted to say.
After this they rode along in a sort of a
fox trot, but Dan noticed that they didn’t
take as much pains to go quietly as the squad
had done the night before. By the time they
got to the bend Dan was certain that the
pickets had heard them and taken to the
bushes, and when they got around it in plain
view of the bridge there was not a sentinel in
sight. But before they had gone many feet
along the road a voice called out:
“Halt! Who comes there?”
“Draw sabres and revolvers!” shouted the
colonel, and the order was repeated by the
adjutant, who galloped back along the column
and yelled out the command as he went.
“Forward! Charge!”
In a second Dan was flying along the road
342faster than he had ever travelled on horseback
before, and in another second the line was
thrown into confusion by a discharge of rifles
and carbines from the woods on each side of
the bridge. The shots were well-aimed, too,
for each man was sure of his mark. The
colonel and his horse went down, and so did
the two men who were carrying Dan and Cale
double. The leading four were also badly cut
up, and before the major could get up to command
in place of his colonel a second discharge
followed, which came within an ace of
putting the column to a rout. Dan and Cale
were on their feet as soon as they struck the
ground, the former with his left arm hanging
loose and the latter with a bullet-hole through
both cheeks.
“I’ve got it now! I’ve got it now!” moaned
Dan, and when he tried to raise his arm he
saw that the lower part of it was useless.
“And I, too!” yelled Cale. “What’s the
matter with my face, Dan? I can’t hardly
talk.”
But Dan wasn’t staying around there to
tell Cale what was the matter with his face.
343In fact he didn’t think anything of his
brother at all, for his thoughts were wrapped
up in his own wound. He gazed at the fallen
men who were scattered around him, heard
the major issue some rapid orders, and then
he, too, fell off his horse. The pickets were
evidently going for the officers, and they made
short work of them. Dan saw and heard
all this and then made a desperate lunge for
the bushes, and Cale was close at his heels
when he got there.
“Oh, my face!” groaned Cale. “I wish
I knew what was the matter with it.”
“Do you think there is nobody killed but
yourself?” retorted Dan. “Look at this arm.
It don’t hurt me so much, but it feels bruised,
and you have got nothing but a bullet-hole
through your cheeks.”
By this time the column was under command
of a captain, who had little difficulty in
rallying them, and Dan heard a yell such as
he had never heard before, the yell of charging
cavalry, and he saw the body of men
sweep on toward the bridge; but when they
got there they saw the Union pickets far up
344the road. But they loaded their rifles as fast
as they went, and when they turned around to
fire at their pursuers some man was certain to
go down. At last the captain who commanded
the cavalry went over also, and this
left Captain Cullom, who was the second in
rank, in charge of the regiment.
“Forward!” he shouted at the top of his
voice. “They are going on ahead to arouse
the other men, and we must overtake them
before they get there.”
Again that charging yell arose, and it was
answered by yells equally as savage from the
Union men, who turned and fired another
volley at them. The ten miles that lay between
them and Ellisville were quickly passed
over, and by the time the pickets had arrived
within sight of the camp there was not a
man to be seen. The houses didn’t look as
though there was anybody around them, but
when they came nearer they found that every
window was filled with sharpshooters. The
church, too, was used as a barricade, and as it
stood broadside to the road we can imagine
that it must have been hot work for that column
345of cavalry to have stood against it. As
they came opposite the hotel the door opened
and Mr. Knight and Mr. Sprague stepped out.
“What is going on down the road?” asked
the former.
“The rebs are coming!” shouted half a
dozen voices. “They have got a whole regiment
of cavalry with them. We hain’t lost a
man.”
“You have done nobly,” said Mr. Sprague.
“Go around behind the church-house and
make your horses fast, and go in there. Be
ready to shoot when you hear us.”
“This looks like a fight,” said one of the
pickets, as they made their way into the
church. “Boys, I laid out one traitor the
first fire I had. It was that miserable Dan
Newman.”
“And I made all haste to lay out the other
one,” chimed in a second. “His brother,
Cale Newman, was there, and Bob, here, shot
the man’s horse, and I took particular aim
at his head. I know I hit him, but I did not
fix him. I saw him get up and go into the
bushes.”
346“Here they come!” said one of the sharp-shooters,
who was keeping watch at one of the
windows. “There is lots of them, ain’t they?”
“Yes, but it is going to take more than
they have got to get away with us,” said one
of the pickets. “If ten men can throw a
column like that into confusion, they won’t
stand long against the fire of five hundred.”
“Now, all you men who can get there at
the window fire your one shot, and then fall
back and give somebody else a chance,” said
the quartermaster—the one who had refused
to give Cale Newman a mule. “In that way
we can keep up a regular fusillade on them.”
The Confederates came on, yelling as they
went, and there was more than one man who
took note of the fact that discipline was a
great thing. All those in front were coming
to their death, but not one was seen to flinch.
The men in the church began to wonder if
Mr. Sprague had forgotten how to shoot, his
signal was so long delayed, and some of the
most excitable ones yelled “Fire!” as the
rebels came on, but the calm voice of their
leader broke in with:
347“Steady there, men. Don’t shoot until
you have the word;” and scarcely had he got
the words out of his mouth when a rifle-shot
came from the hotel across the way, and an
instant afterward nearly a thousand rifles and
carbines cracked in unison. The slaughter
was fearful. The captain, who was leading
the charge, fell with a dozen bullets in his
person, and when the smoke cleared away so
that they could see the effect of the shot, they
found that the leading company had been dismounted,
and their horses were running
about as if they didn’t know which way to go.
“Now, you men at the window who have
had a hand in this fall back,” said the quartermaster;
but nobody seemed to hear him.
The men struggled to keep their places, and the
men in the body of the church, finding that no
opportunity was to be given them, opened the
door and went out. Then the rebels got another
volley, and it was almost as disastrous
as the first. And this wasn’t the worst of it.
All the men came out from their hiding-places,
from the hotel and from behind the
trees that concealed them in the grove, and
348the surviving rebels, seeing nothing before
them but a regiment of Union men who were
backed by rifles that never missed, and more
running up to join them, took to their heels
and made the best of their time down the road.
“Get on your horses and follow them!”
shouted Mr. Knight from the window of the
hotel. “Don’t let one escape!”
That was the way the rebels got scattered.
The Union men pursued them on fresh horses;
and some of them, seeing that their chances
for escape were slim indeed, threw down their
arms and surrendered, while the rest took off
through the woods. That was the time that
Leon and Ballard might have added some
glory to their escape by capturing the two
men who went across the creek, but the
trouble was they didn’t know how the thing
had ended.
“Now, if you think they were whipped we
can go up the main road,” said Leon. “But
I really shouldn’t like to get so close to home
and then have them jump onto me.”
“I shouldn’t like it, either,” said Ballard,
with a laugh. “I would be apt to fare worse
349than you would. But can’t we go on and reconnoitre
the ground? If we find some of
your men there we’ll be safe.”
“Let us try it,” said Leon. “Anything is
better than walking through this thick underbrush.”
Leon was not more than half a mile below
the bridge, and before he had gone that distance
he heard somebody talking in the road.
He raised his hand to Ballard, and the latter at
once took his horse by the head and forced it
down. Leon held on, and after carefully
feeling his way came upon several Union men
who were gathered about a rebel who had
been shot from his horse. One of the Union
men he recognized as Bud McCoy, but who the
others were he didn’t know.
“Halloo! there. You licked them, didn’t
you?”
“Well, I’ll be dog-gone!” exclaimed the
man, as he turned about and saw Leon advancing
upon him through the bushes.
“Where have you been? Your pap has been
in a heap of worry about you.”
“And well he might be,” said Leon. “I
350have been a prisoner. Come on, Ballard; it’s
all right.”
The men all straightenedstraightened up—they were
busy getting ready to remove the wounded
rebel—and presently saw Ballard coming
through the woods leading his horse.
“And here’s the man who saved me,”
added Leon. “Know him, boys. His name
is Ballard. He was going to take me down
to Mobile, but after he got out of sight of
the rebels he asked me into the woods and
gave me something to eat. How many of
the Confederates did you kill?”
“But first, I want to know how you came
to be taken prisoner?” said Bud. “Did you
run onto the rebels before you knew it? The
last time I saw you, you were up to old Newman’s
house.”
“No, I didn’t run onto the rebels before I
saw them,” said Leon; and he knew the confession
he was about to make would not meet
the entire approval of Bud McCoy. “One
man made a prisoner of me.”
“Who was it?”
“Dan Newman.”
351“And you had a revolver in your pocket?”
“Yes, but he got it away from me.”
“Dan Newman! Well, I’ll be dog-gone!
Before I would let a man like Dan Newman
capture me—”
“But, Bud, he threw me down when I
didn’t know he was near me,” protested Leon,
“and when I turned over to see what had
happened to me, there was my own revolver
aimed straight at me.”
“Well, you will never have an opportunity
to get even with him now,” said Bud. “He
was shot right through the arm, and his
brother got a bullet-hole through both cheeks.”
“Why, who did that?” exclaimed Leon,
who felt very much disappointed to hear it.
He had always contended that no Newman
could handle him, and now he would have to
live with that shadow on his mind.
“I don’t know; some of the pickets did it,
Tom Howe was almost as worked up as your
father. He’s down there now, helping gather
up the wounded rebels,” said Bud, jerking his
head down the road.
“I hope Dan will get well, for I am bound
352to try my strength with him some day,” said
Leon. “Has anybody here got a horse that
I can ride?”
“Take that gray,” said one of the men,
“I have got to carry this man to Ellisville,
so I will have to walk.”
Leon thanked him, unhitched the horse,
swung himself upon his back and galloped
across the bridge and down the road to the
place where his two friends were at work.
Tom and Dawson were surprised to see him,
and while he was telling them the story he
looked all around to find Dan and Cale. He
wantedwanted to see how badly hurt Dan was, for he
believed, if they were to measure strength
once more, that Dan would go under.
“There’s one thing that happened about
this business that you won’t like,” said Tom;
and he spoke as though he was very much
disheartened himself. “Old man Smith was
badly wounded during the fight.”
“Why, how did that happen?” asked Leon
in surprise.
“Well, you must know that all the shooting
that was done wasn’t confined to our
353men,” said Tom. “The rebels rallied two or
three times, and every time they poured in a
volley.”
“But how did Mr. Smith get hit? Wasn’t
he under cover?”
“Yes; he was in the hotel with your father,
but he came out. He was just getting all ready
to fire when a bullet took him in the side and
over he went.”
Leon was very sorry to hear this. He remembered
that Mr. Smith had told him particularly
that he had something to say to him,
and he had not been near him since. Perhaps
if he went directly home he would get
there in time to hear what he had to say. He
didn’t think it anything worth listening to,
but he would show his good-will. While he
was looking around at the dead and wounded
Confederates lying there—and he was really
surprised when he saw what a havoc ten guns
had made in the assaulting column—he became
aware that there was a man leaning on
a rifle and keeping guard over several
prisoners. Among them were Dan and Cale.
One’s arm and the other’s face had been bandaged
354after a fashion, and they were waiting
until the rebels were all gathered up, when
they would go on to Ellisville and be placed
under the care of the doctor. Leon gave his
horse the rein and rode up and accosted Dan.
“Well, old fellow, I am sorry to see you in
this fix,” said he.
“Yes, no doubt you are glad of it,” whined
Dan, moving his wounded arm to a better
place.
“I am, really. I was in hopes that you and
I would come together again, and I wanted
you to see that you couldn’t take me down as
easy as you did before. You handled me as
easy as though I wasn’t there.”
“I can do it all the time,” replied Dan,
snappishly, for just then his arm pained him
and he moved it to another position. “I can
get away with you the best day you ever saw.”
“Oh, it is very easy for you to talk that
way now, but if you had two good arms I
would try you right here.”
“Say, Leon, what do you reckon those fellows
will do with us after they get us to Ellisville?”
said Cale, speaking with difficulty.
355“I am sure I don’t know. If I had my
way with you I would send you among the
rebels, with orders not to come back. You
talk of the rebels as ‘our men,’ and you belong
with them.”
“I guess you’ll stretch hemp,” said the man
who was acting as sentry over them.
“I hope they won’t go that far, but I don’t
know,” said Leon, as he turned his horse about
and started for Ellisville.
It was getting dark by this time, but all
the way Leon saw some signs of the fight.
Here was a dead rebel who had been shot
during the retreat, and who had fallen in the
middle of the road, and he had been moved
out on one side and his body covered with a
blanket. A little further on he came across
a wagon which was loaded with wounded
Confederates, and the Union men all greeted
him as though they were glad to see him.
There was one thing about it, if there was any
faith to be put in what the men said to him:
His father had been in a constant worry ever
since he failed to show up at Newman’s house,
and he became so satisfied that Newman was
356to blame for his capture—for Mr. Sprague
knew that somebody had made a prisoner of
him—that he sent a squad of men back to the
house and placed them all in custody. Finally
Leon came up to the place where the slaughter
had taken effect when the Confederates got
ready to make their charge, and he shuddered
when he looked at it. The rebels and their
horses had fallen together in a heap until they
were piled on top of one another. The Union
men had not got through removing them
yet.
“By gracious, if those rebels could come
up here from Mobile and see what I have
seen to-day, I’ll bet they would give up trying
to conquer us,” said Leon, as he once more
gave his horse the rein and drew up before
the hotel porch. “I didn’t suppose that a
battle ended in that way. I thought the dead
and wounded were scattered all around, and
that you had to hunt a long time before you
found them, but—I never want to see another
fight.”
The hotel porch was empty when he got
there, but a little way up toward the grove he
357saw a company of Confederates, all huddled
together, and Union men were keeping guard
over them. They were waiting there until
their paroles could be made out. You see
they had no printing-press in Jones county,
and everything like this had to be made out
by hand. He went up into the President’s
room, and there he found as many men as
could find seats at the table engaged in writing.
Some of the prisoners were there to
assist them.
“The way we do this,” said Mr. Knight,
addressing himself to the captain who had
last commanded the regiment (by the way, he
was wounded, too, for a handkerchief that was
wet with blood was tied around his forehead)—“the
way we do this is all owing to you
rebels alone. You have not hung any of our
men yet; indeed, I don’t know that you have
had a chance, but if you had hung any of
them, we should pick out as many men as had
been executed and hang them to the nearest
tree. We want you to understand that these
paroles are matters of life and death with
you. If you go into battle against us without
358being exchanged, and we capture you, you can
expect nothing but death. I think you have
found out, by the way that cavalry charged
upon us, that we know how to fight. How
many men had you to go back to Mobile?”
“Well, sir, I should say about two hundred.”
“And how many had you in the first
place?”
“We marched up here to assault you with
eleven hundred men, sir.”
“And only two hundred escaped! That’s
doing pretty good work.”
Leon was astonished when he found out
that so small a number of Confederates had
got away, and then, seeing that the conversation
between the President and the rebel captain
had ceased, he began looking around for
his father. He found him at last sitting at
a table in a remote corner of the room, and
walked up and placed his hand upon his
shoulder. Mr. Sprague looked up, and finding
Leon’s face beaming down upon him, put
his pen in his mouth and extended his hand.
“Halloo, Leon; you have got back, haven’t
you?” he exclaimed; and for the first time in
359his life he saw his father’s eyes filled with
tears.
“Yes, sir, I have got back. Where’s Mr.
Smith?”
“Mr. Smith has got his death-wound, I am
afraid,” said his father, looking down at the
paper on which he was writing with a most
gloomy expression. “He wants to see you
bad, and I would advise you to go down to
him at once. You will find him in the parlor,
lying on the sofa.”
Leon waited to hear no more, but worked
his way through the men toward the door,
stopping to shake hands with this one, or to
give a bow and a smile to another, and presently
found himself in the parlor. The doctor
was there and bending over the wounded
man, and so was a distant relative of his, who
seemed determined that the doctor should not
exchange any words with Mr. Smith without
he could hear them. Leon had never liked
that man, Leonard Smith. It is true that he
had never worked for his father, nor for Mr.
Smith, either, for there was something about
him that neither of the gentlemen approved
360of. He was constantly telling around that he
was going to have a lot of money one of these
days, and nobody knew where he was going to
get it. Mr. Smith had a little, just how much
no one knew, and it was very clear to everyone
that Leonard Smith wouldn’t get any of
it when he got done with it. Mr. Smith had
often been heard to declare:
“I’ll never help a man who is too lazy to
help himself. What does that Leonard Smith
do to earn his living? He works at the logs
about half the time, and the balance he
spends in visiting me. I have often told him
to go to work, but he won’t do it. He is a sort
of second cousin to me, but all the same he
has no claim on me.”
When Leon came into the parlor Mr. Smith
turned his head and saw him. With more
strength than a person of his injuries would
be likely to show he thrust out his hand and
welcomed him in his cheery way.
“Why, Leon, where have you been?” exclaimed
the wounded man. “Come here and
tell me all about it. Now, doctor, I can get
along without any more help until I get
361through with Leon. Take everybody out of
the room.”
The only person in the room besides the
doctor and Leon was this Leonard Smith, and
he didn’t seem inclined to move. He walked
back toward the foot of the sofa and leaned
upon it, and there he seemed determined to
stay.
“I want you to go, too,” said Mr. Smith,
in angry tones. “Take him out with you,
doctor.”
“I guess I had better stay here,” said Leonard.
“You might want me to hand you
your water or something.”
“I reckon this man I have got here is
enough to hand me my water or anything
else,” retorted Mr. Smith. “Doctor, I want
to see Leon about something particular, and I
would thank you to take that fellow out of
the room. I haven’t got but a short time to
live—”
“Come, now, Leonard, go out of the room,”
said the doctor.
Leonard waited a moment, just long enough
to cast a glance of mingled hate and rage
362upon Mr. Smith and Leon, and then went out,
banging the door after him.
“That’s all right,” said Mr. Smith. “Now,
lock the door. It will take not more than a
minute, but what little I do say I want to
reach your ears, and your ears alone. Pull up
a chair and sit down.”
Leon complied. He fastened the door, and
then drew a chair close to the wounded man’s
side and leaned over him.
CHAPTER XVII. THE EVENTS OF A WEEK.
363
“That’s all right,” repeated Mr. Smith,
as Leon seated himself close by his
side. “I didn’t want that Leonard Smith to
hear a word I had to say to you, for he is a
slippery fellow, and I don’t deny that I have
detected him in efforts to steal money from
me. The funds I have got— Put your hand
inside my vest and pull out my pocket-book.”
Leon arose to his feet and was about to
comply with the man’s request when the door
of the parlor was tried with a careful hand,
but the lock prevented intrusion.
“That’s Leonard,” said Mr. Smith. “Let
him work. He has got rid of the doctor and
was coming in to hear what I had to say to
you. That’s it,” he continued, as Leon drew
out a pocket-book which was made so large
that it would contain bills at full length.
364“Now, put it in your pocket and button it up
and give it to your father the first thing you
do. My will is in there, and my money is all
bequeathed to you.”
Leon gasped, but he had never thought of
anything like this, and he didn’t know what
to say to it. Finally he stammered:
“Do you think it right, Mr. Smith, to take
all this money away from Leonard and give
it to me, who—”
“I have a right to do what I please with
my own,” interrupted Mr. Smith. “I have
worked hard for every cent of it, and I have
made it all. The money is all in gold, and
the will tells where to find it; but don’t you
let Leonard get hold of the pocket-book, for
if you do he will cheat you out of it. Keep
watch of him the first thing you do, and
don’t let him catch you off your guard. Now,
Leon, that’s all. Hand me a drink of water.
This fever, or something else in me, is burning
me up.”
Leon made all haste to bring the wounded
man a tumbler of water from the table, and
when he had drained it he thought it wise to
365provide for the use of the money in case Mr.
Smith’s injuries should not be as severe as
they thought.
“Of course, if you get well,” he began.
“Why, then, of course, I’ll get the money
back. I understand that; but, Leon, you
don’t want to talk about such things. I know
when I am done for as well as anybody. Now
you may unlock the door and let Leonard in.
After that, take the money up and give it to
your father. It is all willed to you, mind you,
but of course your father will have full charge
of it until you are twenty-one. Now unlock
the door.”
Leon lingered a moment. Something told
him that he would not see Mr. Smith alive
again, and he wanted to bid him good-bye,
but he didn’t know how to go about it. The
wounded man was getting impatient, so he
stepped up and shook him by the hand; after
that he unlocked the door, and he unlocked it
so suddenly that it came open with a jerk,
and Leonard Smith, who was leaning over
with his ear close to the key-hole in the hope
of hearing something that would be of use to
366him, came into the parlor on all-fours. He
didn’t apologize for his abrupt entrance, and
neither did Leon for letting him into the
room so suddenly, while Mr. Smith looked
the disgust he could not express in words.
“If I were in that man’s place I should
feel so ashamed of myself that I couldn’t look
Mr. Smith in the face,” said Leon, as he
bounded up the stairs that led to the President’s
room. “But I suppose he has been
caught in so many tricks that he isn’t
ashamed of anything. Father,” he added, in
a whisper, “this is what Mr. Smith wanted to
see me about. This pocket-book has got his
will in it, and tells us where to find his
money. How much of it there is I don’t
know; but he wanted me to give it into your
hands, with instructions to look out for Leonard
Smith.”
“Ah!” said Mr. Sprague, taking the pocket-book
and slipping it inside his vest. “So
Leonard has got onto it in some way or another,
has he?”
“Yes; and it was all Mr. Smith could do
to get him out of the parlor when he wanted
367to talk to me. He says don’t you let Leonard
catch you off your guard one instant, for if
you do he will cheat you out of it.”
“Why, if the money is made over to you
I don’t see what Leonard can have to do with
it.”
“But he will find out where the money is
hidden, and go there and dig it up.”
“Well, I reckon Mr. Leonard won’t get it
now,” said Mr. Sprague, buttoning his vest.
“No, I don’t think he will. Now, hadn’t
you better go down and see Mr. Smith? He
thinks he isn’t going to last much longer.”
“I will go down and see him now. I hope
he will get well, so that he can have this
money back again.”
Mr. Sprague laid down his pen and got
upon his feet, and just then there was a
rumble of wagons in front of the house, which
told them that some of the wounded had arrived.
Leon went down to assist them and
to look for Ballard, whom he wanted to introduce
to the President, while his father went
on to the parlor. Leon found that there were
four wagon-loads of wounded rebels there,
368and while he was looking around watching
for a chance to lend a hand his father came
to the door and beckoned to him.
“He has gone,” said he, when Leon approached
within speaking distance.
“Is he dead?”
“Yes; and all his pockets are turned inside
out.”
Leon followed his father into the parlor,
and they found no one there except the doctor
and Leonard Smith. The doctor shook
his head and turned and went out, while
Leonard stood in his accustomed place at the
foot of the sofa, and did nothing but glare at
the father and son. The pockets had evidently
been searched, and Leonard did not
have time to put them back again before the
doctor came in. Leon drew a long breath of
relief when he saw how mad Leonard was.
He had arrived home just in the nick of time.
If he had delayed his coming half an hour the
pocket-book would now be in the possession of
one whom Mr. Smith did not want to have it.
But it was plain Leonard did not intend to
give it up in this way. As Leon took hold of
369the sheet to spread it reverently over the dead
man’s face, Leonard suddenly aroused himself
and seemed determined to find out where the
pocket-book was.
“I would thank you to give up what you
got from him when I went out,” said he, and
he was so angry that he could scarcely form
the words into a sentence.
“What did I get?” inquired Leon, while
his father straightened up and looked at him
without speaking.
“You got a pocket-book, or something else,
in which he kept his will,” said Leonard.
“That pocket-book is mine, and I am bound to
have it.”
“It’s safe,” replied Mr. Sprague. “I’ll tell
you what I will do in order to find out
whether it is in the possession of the one who
ought to have it. As soon as these troubles
are all over I will take out the will and read
it in the presence of the men—”
“But I don’t intend to remain out of my
money so long,” interrupted Leonard. “Some
of these rebels might come here and dig down
and find it. If I have it now it will be safe.”
370“How do you know it is in the ground?”
“Well, I just suppose it is. I don’t know
any other place he could put it where it would bewould be
equally safe.”
“I told you that I would read the will in
the presence of the men and let them decide
who owns the money. More than that I cannot
promise.”
“Now, I will just tell you what’s the gospel
truth,” said Leonard, leaving his place at
the foot of the sofa and striding up and shaking
both his clinched hands in Mr. Sprague’s
face.
“Put down your hands or I will have you
arrested in a minute!” said Mr. Sprague, not in
the least alarmed by the other’s threatening
manner.
“I will shake my fists in your face or in
anybody else’s face who intends to rob me of
my birthright!” exclaimed Leonard, at the
same time allowing his hands to fall by his
side. “I tell you that I will camp on that
place every night, and woe be to the man or
boy who comes there after that money. He
will not get away with it.”
371“I hope you have said enough in the presence
of this dead man—”
“He was my cousin; that is what he was,”
shouted Leonard.
“—of this dead man to make you ashamed
of yourself,” said Mr. Sprague. “Now, we
will go out.”
“But I want you to understand what I said
about camping on that place,” said Leonard.
“The man or boy who gets that money don’t
get away with it.”
Mr. Sprague and Leon went out without
making any reply, the former going back to
the President’s room to resume his work upon
the paroles, and his son to wander aimlessly
about, with no disposition to do any work, although
he saw plenty of it before him. After
awhile he found Tom Howe, and both his
friends with him. They were tired of removing
wounded rebels and were now going up to
Tom’s camp for a good nap. Ballard was
evidently much impressed with the sharp-shooting
the Union men had done, and declared
that he had never seen the beat.
“I don’t see how any of our fellows came
372out alive,” said he, and his astonishment was
so great that he threw his arms about his
head. “You Union men are dead shots!”
“Well, there are plenty of deer and bear
loose in the swamps, and squirrels in abundance,”
said Leon, “and you can’t expect that
men who sometimes have to depend on them
for a living will miss them every time.”
“Come on, Leon,” said Dawson. “You’ll
have to go up to Tom’s camp, too. We
haven’t heard your story yet.”
Leon began his story as they walked along,
and as he did not have very much to tell, anyway,
his companions knew all about it by the
time they got to the place where Tom had left
his mule. Tom was disgusted when Leon
told him about his being captured by one
man, and more than all by such a man as
Dan Newman, but he was elated just as much
when Leon told how Ballard had taken him
into the woods and given him something to
eat.
“Howdy, Mr. Ballard,” said Tom, walking
up and shaking the Texas rebel by the hand.
“I didn’t get a chance to shake hands with
373you before, but now I am glad to see you.
That boy is a friend of mine, and if you do
anything for him it is as though you did it
for me. Now, we will take some supper and
then go to bed.”
While Tom was kindling the fire Leon related
to him the particulars of Mr. Smith’s
death, and to say that Tom felt quite as badly
as Leon did would be telling nothing but the
truth. He did not say anything about the
will which he had given into his father’s care,
or about the trouble that Leonard Smith had
threatened to make on account of it, for something
told him that he had better keep that
to himself. Thus far, he and Mr. Sprague
were the only ones that knew anything about
it. Of course, he would have been perfectly
willing to have trusted Tom with his secret,
but there were other men there, Ballard and
Dawson, of whom he knew nothing. How
did he know that they would not hunt for the
money and make off with it? It was hidden
in the ground somewhere. Leonard seemed
to think that that was the place he would go
to find it, and if he told everybody of it
374they would dig Mr. Smith’s farm full of holes
but that they would find it.
“I don’t think I had better say anything
about that,” said Leon to himself, after he
had thought the matter over. “I will talk
about it to father the first chance I get. These
men will all be poor when this war is settled,
and they may fight about the money as readily
as they fired into that regiment of cavalry.”
During the week following there was nothing
happened that would be of interest to you,
although it was full of interest to the Union
men of Jones county. In the first place, as
soon as they had eaten breakfast, the prisoners
who had been captured the day before were summoned
to the hotel, and there signed their paroles.
They did it, too, knowing full well what
was to be expected if they didn’t keep them, for
Mr. Knight was there, and he went over the
same speech he had delivered to the captain
in his room. There were a number of wagons,
and the wounded were placed carefully in
them, and they were to be taken away and
delivered to their friends. There were also
two hundred Union men with them who were
375to guard them as far as the bridge, and then
they were to bid them good-bye and come
back.
“I hope,” said Mr. Knight, after he had
got through with his speech, “that you all
have been treated right since you have been
here.”
“Oh, yes, sir,” responded a dozen voices.
“You have treated us like we were your own.”
“Then I hope that if you get any of my
boys in the Confederate lines you will treat
them in the same way. That’s all. Go on.”
Mr. Knight did not raise any objections
when the men took off their hats and gave
him a cheer. He simply bowed and went up
the stairs that led to his room.
The next thing was taking Mr. Smith and
Bach Noble, and several other men who had
been killed and wounded during the fight with
the cavalry, to their homes. It was done with
rather more of solemnity than had yet been
displayed, and a long line followed after each
man who had given up his life in defence of
the flag. Mr. Sprague and Leon went with
the man who had bequeathed them all he had
376in this world to give, and saw a grave dug
where he had always said he would wish to be
laid, and when the ceremony was over they
came back to the hotel very much depressed
in spirits. And it was a long time before
they got over thinking about Mr. Smith. He
was so lively and full of fun that he was
sadly missed, but it was not long before something
else demanded their attention. There
was one thing that Leon was glad to see.
Leonard Smith was not present at the funeral.
It was not the man he cared for—it was the
money he thought he had laid away, and
which he believed he was in duty bound to
get, seeing that Mr. Smith had no one else to
bestow it upon. But he saw that he was not
likely to get it by fair means, and so he kept
out of the way.
There was another thing that happened
during the week that made the Union men
draw a long breath of relief. The boats
which that squad had been sent up to build
were all done, and now it needed nothing
but a strong force of Confederates, much too
large to be handled by them, to send the last
377man of them over to the island, where they
would be comparatively safe. They were now
ready to fight, and they didn’t care how soon
it was forced upon them. During that week,
too, a large number of men, probably two
hundred of them in all, came in to give themselves
up. Some of them were on foot, and
others had their wagons along loaded with
their families and household furniture. They
had heard the particulars of the capture of
that wagon-train, and believing that the men
in Jones county were in earnest, and that they
did not intend to be forced into the rebel
army, they watched their opportunity and
came in by night. And this wasn’t the worst
of it. There were more came in every day,
until Leon wondered where they should get
food for them all.
“I don’t think the rebels knew how many
fighting men there were about here,” said he.
“We must have as many as twenty-five hundred
men here.”
“Yes, and I guess if you had said double
that you wouldn’t have been far out of the
way,” said Ballard, who stuck close to the
378boys wherever they went. “It will take ten
thousand men to whip us.”
“Do you suppose that Jeff Davis can send
that number of men up here? We are only
one little part of the Confederacy, and I
should think he would want to save his men
for something else.”
“He may now, but he won’t after a while.
When Mobile becomes surrounded by Union
troops, as she certainly will, he will need all
the men he can get.”
And there was one other thing that happened
during this week that caused Leon and
Tom to look at each other in perfect astonishment.
It proved that the chief men of the
county, although they might act so very innocent,
were not to be taken unawares. They
had spies out. Some of them went to Mobile
to see what they could find there that was
worth looking at, especially to keep track of
that strong force which they knew would be
sent against them sooner or later, and the
others went up into the interior of the State
to keep a lookout for some more wagon-trains.
These men took their lives in their hands, for
379every one of them that went into the Confederate
lines was dressed in a rebel uniform. If
they were caught and could not make a good
excuse in regard to the regiment and company
they belonged to, they would be hanged.
Leon had been so very busy ever since he
came into camp that he had not had time to
learn all these things; but there was one other
thing that he did learn which afforded him
infinite gratification. It was what happened
to Mr. Newman and family. They had been
arrested as soon as Mr. Sprague found out, or
rather mistrusted, that one of their number
could tell more about Leon’s absence than
any one else, and Bass Kennedy’s corn being
thrown out of the calaboose, they were chucked
in there, and guards placed over them to be
sure that they stayed, too. Of course, Mr.
Sprague was very much astonished when he
learned that Dan had made a prisoner of
Leon and had been wounded and captured by
the pickets, and when he was brought to Ellisville
he had him put into the jail with his
father and mother. On the morning that the
prisoners were sent away they were given a
380wagon to themselves and forwarded to the
rebels in Mobile, and Leon never heard of
them afterward. We may tell you, however,
that Dan’s arm was amputated when he got
among the doctors, and Cale never recovered
his good looks. He looked as if his jaws were
sunk in, and all the negro-twist he could get in
them would not make them look any different.
By this time everything had been got ready
for the visit of that force which was to crush
out the rebellion of the Jones-County Confederacy.
We don’t say that Mr. Sprague
and the other chief men looked upon it as
boys’ play, because they knew well enough
what it meant. The actions of the regiment
of cavalry which came in there, as well as the
threats they had made that they were “going
to sweep everything clean,” and that before
night there wouldn’t be a Union man left,
showed them that they couldn’t hope for any
mercy. The head men of the Confederacy
would be hanged, and the others would be
forced into the rebel army. Mr. Sprague
talked this all over with Leon, but the latter
did not exhibit any signs of wavering.
381“Well, I suppose if that is what we have
got to contend with we can’t meet it any too
soon,” said Leon, compressing his mouth
firmly, as he always did whenever his courage
was tested to the utmost. “I never thought
that this thing was coming through all right.
Such an exploit was never thought of
before.”
“I know it; and that is what makes us
think we shall come through with flying
colors. There’s one thing about it: We won’t
fight against our old flag.”
In spite of all the constant work there was
for him to do at headquarters, Mr. Sprague
found opportunity to go home and assist his
wife in packing up for the island, which was
the place the backwoodsmen had decided upon
to make their last stand. It was a piece of
ground in the midst of the swamp, entirely
surrounded by water, and now that the inside
of it had been cleared of all underbrush, which
had been piled around the outside of it to answer
for a breastwork, the island seemed to be
a larger camp than the force of men at their
disposal needed. Leon went up and saw it.
382He took his mother over in one of the boats,
making their stock swim behind, and through
a long, winding pathway, made of corduroy
logs, and obstructed at every turn by numerous
barricades, and when he came at last into
the cleared space he was astonished.
“Why, father, we haven’t got men enough
to fill up that space,” said he. “There’s room
enough for ten thousand men.”
“Don’t worry yourself,” said his father,
with a smile. “This war is not half over yet.
By the time we have our first fight here we’ll
have more men than we want.”
We must not forget to say that Tom Howe’s
mother and Mr. Giddings and his family went
with them. They all settled right down close
together, and seemed as happy and contented
there as they would have been under their
own roofs. Mr. Giddings especially was the
source of constant merriment to the boys. It
didn’t make any difference to him that he was
so far from his mountain home, but he pitched
right in and had a good time. Of course, he
was careful of his rifle. Whenever he could
get his hands upon that he seemed to throw
383care to the winds. It was on this very day
that Mr. Sprague thought it best to speak to
Leon about that will. The boy didn’t know
anything about it, and if anything happened
to him during the fights that followed he
wanted Leon to know where to get the money.
Mr. Sprague, in the presence of his wife, had
examined the will a few days before, and the
result almost took his breath away. There
were a few gold-pieces in the pocket-book,
perhaps a hundred dollars or two, and a few
bills payable; but they were all marked off,
as if to show Mr. Sprague that Mr. Smith did
not want to press the men for the money.
Among these bills was the will, and when Mr.
Sprague came to examine it his hand shook
and he passed it over to his wife, saying:
“My goodness! Mary, who would have supposed
that Mr. Smith was worth so much
money? We dare not say anything about
this, for if we do our lives will not be worth a
moment’s purchase. These men around us
will fight as hard to keep the money here as
they will to keep the rebels away. Now, what
had we better do?”
CHAPTER XVIII. COLEMAN PROVES HIS HONESTY.
384
Mrs. Sprague fastened her eyes on the
document, and as she read the color all
left her face. She looked around. There was
plenty of opportunity for her to be overheard
now, for they were living in a brush lean-to,
and there were people constantly passing back
and forth almost within reach of them. There
were plenty of folks there that could be
trusted with their secret, but there were lots
more from whom it must be kept at all hazards.
“And do you think that some of these people
will fight for this money?” she said in an
earnest whisper.
“There are lots of them that will do it,”
returned her husband. “You see we will be
as poor as they make them when this thing is
ended, and where they are going to get money
to start on, I don’t know. I tell you, we
385mustn’t let anybody know it. Put that away
and I will go out and call Leon.”
The heir of all this wealth was found assisting
Mr. Giddings, who was just putting
the finishing touches on his brush shanty preparatory
to getting his family under it. He
looked up when he saw his father approaching,
and he had never seen him look so white
before; but he was warned by the signal his
father made him, and so he didn’t say a word.
His mother handed him the will when he entered
their brush lean-to, and in less time
than it takes to tell it Leon was master of its
contents.
“A hundred thousand dollars!” he gasped.
“Sh! Not so loud,” cautioned his mother.
“You don’t want everybody to know it, do
you? Sit down here and tell us what you
think of it.”
“To think that old Mr. Smith, who went
about with his knees and elbows out, should
be worth so much money!” said Leon. “It is
no wonder that that fellow wanted to fight
for it.”
“Yes, and you must be careful what you
386say around where he can hear it,” said his
father, who had taken up a position in the
door of the lean-to so that he could partially
screen Leon while reading the will. “If he
finds out where that money is hid, it’s all up
with you.”
“But he won’t find it,” said Leon, who
quickly copied after his father and spoke in
an almost inaudible whisper. “He has got it
hidden in the pig-pen. I was there while he
was laying that floor along in the early part
of the war, and he said then that I might
some day dig up something under it. I
couldn’t think then what he meant, although
I know it now.”
“Well, you had better let your mother
take care of the will,” said Mr. Sprague,
“and then if anything happens to us she will
know right where to go and get the money. I
tell you that is a good deal more than we
thought we were going to have.”
Leon was almost overwhelmed by the result
of the last few minutes, and if he could have
had his own way he would have been glad to
get off somewhere by himself and think the
387matter over. But now it was impossible.
Everywhere he went there was somebody
around, and it seemed to Leon, now that he
thought about it, that those who knew about
Mr. Smith’s will had a way of looking at him
as though they knew the secrets of what was
hidden under the pig-pen. Of course, it was
all imagination on his part, but still he
wanted to get away and talk the matter over
with Tom Howe.
“Mustn’t I take anybody into my confidence
at all, not even Tom?” said he.
“Take nobody into your confidence,” said
his father, earnestly. “You don’t know what
sort of a fellow Tom is. He may be all right
to have around where there’s a jam of logs in
the river, but you don’t want to say anything
to him about this money business.”
“Well, when are you going to get it? We’ll
have to go away from here in order to use
it.”
“We’ll go to it after this war is settled, and
not before. Of course, we shall have to go
away from here, for we can’t use it around
where Leonard Smith is. And here’s another
388thing I want to tell you. Remember and keep
close within reach of me, and don’t let Smith
or anybody else get you off on one side. If
you do, you will suffer for it.”
Leon smiled and wondered what sort of a
story Smith could make up to draw him off in
the woods, and it wasn’t so very long before
he found out. Ever since the night that Mr.
Smith died, Leonard had been half-crazy. He
had no idea how much the will in the pocket-book
contained, but he was certain that it was
enough to keep him all his days without work.
This was what this lazy vagabond was building
his hopes upon. Anyway, he didn’t want
the Spragues to have it, and what was more
he was determined that they shouldn’t. If
there was any way by which could get the will,
or any means to learn the hiding-place of the
money, why then it would be clear sailing
with him. Leon undoubtedly had time to
read the will and find out where the money
was concealed, and if he could get him off by
himself somewhere he would find out where
that money was concealed, or he would leave
Leon hanging to a tree in the woods. It took
389him two days to come to this decision, and all
the while he roamed about over Mr. Smith’s
place, poking into every place that he could
think of where there was the least chance of
hiding money. When the funeral procession
came there he slunk into the woods, but when
they went away again he came out and renewed
his endeavors to find the fortune.
“There is money hidden somewhere about
here, and I am as certain of it as that I am
alive,” said Leonard Smith, when the men
who had composed the funeral procession had
gone away. “If it were not that Leon has
the secret stowed away in his head I would
up-end him the moment I saw him; but if I
can get him in the woods and make preparations
to hang him, I’ll find out where the
money is. I can’t do anything by myself,
and I must have somebody to help me. Now,
who shall I get?”
Fortunately it was an easy thing for Leonard
Smith to decide upon this question. He
thought over all the worthless fellows who
occurred to his mind just then, and finally
hit upon one who was just about of as much
390use in the world as he was. Caleb Coleman
was on the island beyond a doubt—he was
always around where he was certain there was
no danger—and if he could only get over
there and see him he was sure that he could
induce him to lend a hand in finding the
money. But the trouble was he did not care
to go around where Leon was.
“I don’t know whether that boy is certain
that I am looking for the money or not, but
he acts as if he did,” said Smith, as he took a
look around to make sure that he had not
missed any place where he thought there was
a chance of hiding the money.
He had removed every pile of boards there
was about the farm-house and had dug under
them until he saw that the earth had not recently
been disturbed, and then threw the piles
of boards back again. He had even been in
the cow-stable and plied his search there; but
with all his looking he could not find any
place which bore the appearance of having
been dug over, and he was almost inclined to
give up his search in despair. But he had
one more trump card to play, and the more
391he thought of it the more confident he became
that it would surely work.
“Here’s one thing that I have got to blame
old Sprague for,” said Smith, as he picked up
his rifle—nobody ever thought of going
abroad without a rifle in war times—and
turned his steps toward the island. “He’s
gone and sent off that Newman family, and
if they were here I would know right where
to go to find three good men to assist me; but
seeing that he couldn’t mind his own business,
I suppose Coleman is the best one I can get.
I’ll bet I will make his eyes open if I promise
him one thousand dollars in gold.”
Smith had not yet been over to the island,
but it was no trouble at all for him to get
there, for the boats were constantly employed
in carrying over the household furniture of
the refugees. He did not know that there
were so many men in the county before, and
when he came to look closely at them he found
that the most of them were strangers. A great
many of them, too, were dressed in rebel uniform,
and they worked like honest men who
were anxious to take their families to a
392place of safety; but he did not see Coleman
there.
“I’ll bet I’ll find him on the island, laid
down alongside the fire,” said Smith, as his
boat touched the shore and he jumped off.
“You may be sure that he wouldn’t do any
work while there is anybody to do it for
him.”
Smith was surprised to find that no one on
the island had missed him, for nobody spoke
to him. The majority of the men were busy
building their houses and getting their household
goods under cover, and well they might
be. After they got through here they were
to march in a body down to the hotel and
meet the assault of that force which was coming
to crush out the last vestige of the Jones-County
Confederacy. The men all acted with
a feverish eagerness, as if they were impatient
to get at it. Smith thought, too, that if that
invading force succeeded in following the
Union men to their island they were bound
to be whipped. The passage through the cane
was long and winding, and at every turn there
were barricades erected, behind which three
393or four hundred men could have resisted a
thousand. These breastworks of logs had
been thrown up by the party who came out
to build the boats and without any orders
from headquarters, and Mr. Sprague showed
what he thought of them by praising the men
without stint.
“You will make good soldiers some day,”
said he. “The rebels can’t get in here any
way they can fix it. They are bound to come
in column when they assault these breastworks,
because the cane is so thick that they
can’t come in any other way, and before they
can get in here they won’t have a man left.”
“There’s one of them now,” muttered
Smith, as he caught sight of Mr. Sprague
standing in the door of his lean-to. If Smith
had only known it, Leon was in the act of
reading the will. “If I can get a-hold of
that boy of yours I’ll soon know as much as
he does. He knows where the money is, and
he will tell it all sooner than be hung.”
Mr. Sprague bowed to Smith as he passed
by, but the latter didn’t pay any attention to
him. The man wanted to know where he
394could find Coleman, but he was much too
sharp to speak to Mr. Sprague about it. He
kept on a little further, and found somebody
of whom he could make inquiries. Another
thing that attracted Smith’s attention right
here was the air of neatness and order with
which all the lean-tos were arranged. They
were laid off in streets, so that one could go
the whole length of them on the darkest of
nights without stumbling over a brush shanty
which contained some sleeping occupants.
“You will find Caleb up there on the outskirts
of the camp,” said the man of whom he
made inquiries. “He’s got sick of poleing
the boats over, and so has gone up to camp to
lie down.”
“Then he isn’t doing any work at all?”
asked Smith.
“Work? Naw. He says he hain’t got
but a little time to stay with his folks, and so
he intends to see them all he can. When we
go down there to meet the rebels, he is going
to stay in camp.”
“Then he is just the man I want,” said
Smith to himself, as he pursued his way toward
395Coleman’s lean-to. “I aint a-going to
meet the rebels myself, and consequently I
don’t blame him.”
Smith followed along up the street until he
came to the end of it, and there he found
Coleman. The lean-to that he had over him
was not very secure, but Coleman didn’t seem
to mind that. He lay stretched out on the
bedding with his pipe in his mouth, and three
or four dogs and as many children kept him
company.
“Why don’t you put a roof on your lean-to?”
asked Smith. “When it rains you’ll
wish you had paid more attention to it.”
“Well, when it rains I can’t fix it; and
now it don’t need it,” replied Coleman with a
laugh. “It will do.”
“Why don’t you get out and pole the boats
over?”
“Oh, there’ll be plenty of men besides me
to do that little thing,” replied Coleman.
“Besides, I’ve poled some of them over until
I am all tired out.”
“Well, get up, if you can. I want to see
you.”
396“Anything particular?”
“You will think so when you hear it,” replied
Smith, impatiently. “Kick some of
those dogs out of the way and come along
with me.”
Coleman arose with an effort, laid the children
carefully aside and followed after Smith,
who led the way around on the outside of the
lean-to, being particular to keep out of sight
of Mr. Sprague at the other end of the street.
There he threw himself down upon the leaves
and waited for Coleman to join him.
“Sit up closer—not so far off,” he said,
when the man halted at least five feet away.
“I have got something in particular that I
want to say to you, and I don’t want anybody
to overhear it.”
“It seems to me that you are mighty
friendly, now that the old man is dead and
you have come into his fortune,” said Coleman,
moving up closer. “How much did you
make out of that? I think I have heard you
say that you wanted as much as twenty-five or
thirty thousand dollars.”
“That’s what I said,” answered Smith,
397frowning fiercely. “But the trouble is I have
not got it.”
“Who has got it, then?” demanded Coleman,
looking surprised.
“That little snipe, Leon Sprague. Smith
had no business to give it to him, but he did,
and I am left out in the cold.”
“I say! That’s a pretty how-de-do, ain’t
it?”
“I should say so. Now, I will give you a
thousand dollars if you will help me to get
it.”
“That’s a power of money, ain’t it? But
how can I help you?”
“By going to Leon and telling him that I
want to see him in the woods,” said Smith,
sinking his voice almost to a whisper. “If I
once get him out there, away from everybody,
I will tell him that if he wants to see daylight
again he can tell me where that money is.”
“Good gracious! What are you going to
do with him? Kill him?”
Smith nodded.
“Then you can get somebody else to help
you get that money,” said Coleman, drawing
398a long breath. “You won’t get any help out
of me.”
“But think of the thousand dollars,” said
Smith, who began to see that he had made a
mistake.
“I don’t care if it’s twice a thousand dollars.
I wouldn’t dare show my face in Jones
county again.”
“You needn’t come back to Jones county,”
said Smith, who began to fear that he had run
against a snag when he least expected it. “I
am not coming back. I am going over to the
rebels.”
“Well, there! That’s just what I expected
you to do. Here you promise to support this
government, and then go back on it the first
chance you get!”
“You say you won’t meet the rebels,” retorted
Smith.
“I know it; but I didn’t say I was going
over to them. Good land! You can get
somebody else to help you,” said Coleman,
rising to his feet. “That’s a little too dangerous
a piece of business for me. If that’s
all you wanted to say I’ll go back.”
399“Well, here, hold on a minute,” exclaimed
Smith, who saw that it would not do to permit
Coleman to go back among his friends
feeling as he did now. “There is all of
twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars in that
will, and Leon knows where it is.”
“Let him keep it. That’s what I say.”
“Now, suppose, instead of hanging him,”
continued Smith, paying no heed to the interruption,
“we will just make believe to hang him—pull
him up until he sees stars and then
pull him down again. We could do that.”
“No, we couldn’t. Leon’s eyes would be
unbandaged, and he could easy see who pulled
him up. I tell you you had better get somebody
else.”
“Well, I supposed you were willing to work
hard for a thousand dollars,” said Smith, in
disgust. “But you are willing to live along
just as you are now, without any thought for
the morrow. Thank goodness, there are
plenty of men in this party who will help me.”
“Then you had better get one of them.”
“You won’t say anything about what I
have told you?”
400“Never a word; only, don’t mention it to
me again. I would rather be poor all my life
than make a living in that dishonest way.”
“Say, Coleman, sit down here a minute. I
want to whisper something to you.”
The man was a long time in sitting down.
He seemed to think that Smith had some
other terms to disclose which would lead him
into his scheme, whether he wanted to or not.
“I will give you five thousand dollars,”
said Smith, in an earnest undertone. “Just
think of that! Here you will be as poor as
Job’s turkey, and that amount of money will
easily set you on your feet.”
“I don’t care if it’s ten thousand. I won’t
do it.”
“Well, Coleman, I was only just fooling
you,” said Smith, and in order to give color
to his words he leaned back and laughed
heartily. “You will do to tie to.”
“Yes?” said Coleman, and he laughed, too,
but it was a different sort of laugh. “You
have an awful funny way of fooling a fellow,
I must say. If you were not in earnest when
you sat down here I shall miss my guess.”
401Coleman got upon his feet again, and Smith
was so angry that he let him go without compelling
him to promise over again that he
would not tell anybody of the scheme that
had been proposed to him. He laid down on
his bed and filled his pipe, but he rolled over
to see where Smith went.
“That fellow is a-going to get himself in a
power of disturbance the first thing he knows,”
said he to his wife, as he saw Smith moving
down toward Mr. Sprague’s end of the street.
“He is fixing himself to get hung.”
“Good land! How is that?” exclaimed the
woman.
In spite of the fact that he had promised
Smith that he would not say a word about it,
it did not take Coleman long to go over his
interview with him, and when he told of the
amount of money that had been offered him
his wife fairly gasped for breath.
“I know that is a big sum,” continued
Coleman, “but just think of the danger there
will be. If Leon gets off in the woods and
don’t come back they will hunt high and low
for him, and it won’t take them long to determine
402who it was that had a hand in his taking
off. If they make-believe they were going
to hang him, why, of course,course, he will know
who it was and he’ll tell of it when he comes
back. I think I was pretty smart in keeping
out of it. There goes Smith off toward the
boats. Now I believe I’ll go and see Leon.”
Smith had evidently missed his guess by a
long ways when he selected Coleman to assist
him. He had never known anything against
this man’s honesty. He supposed, of course,
that a fellow who hated to work as bad as he
did, and who was content to lay around home
all the time in company with the dogs and
the children in preference to handling an axe,
ought to be willing to engage in anything
that he thought would bring him money; but
as it happened, there were some honest men
in that party, although they did wear ragged
jackets. Without further thought Coleman
arose and sauntered off toward Mr. Sprague’s
end of the street, and when he came opposite
their lean-to he found the boy he wanted to
see, talking with his mother.
“Well, Caleb, what can I do for you to-day?”
403asked Mr. Sprague, who still occupied
his old position in the door of the lean-to.
“Not a thing,” replied Coleman. “But I
want to see Leon for about five minutes.”
“Do you want him to go out in the woods
with you?” said Mr. Sprague, with a wink
that spoke volumes.
“Eh? No; but I want to tell him to keep
away from the woods,” replied Coleman, who
wondered if Mr. Sprague knew all about it.
“Well, you might just as well come in here
and tell it,” said Mr. Sprague, taking Coleman
by the arm. “There are no secrets between us.”
Coleman went, and in a few minutes was
seated on a trunk revealing the scheme that
had been proposed to him. Leon and his
father exchanged significant glances, and the
boy thought how wise Mr. Sprague had been
when he advised him to stick closely by his
side and to let nothing draw him away.
“I did say that I wouldn’t tell this to anybody,”
said Coleman, in conclusion. “And I
won’t tell it to any one except you-uns, who
are so deeply interested in it. You won’t tell
on me?”
404“Did he say how much he was going to
get?” asked Leon, after his father had made
the required promise.
Coleman replied that he thought he was
going to get twenty-five or thirty thousand
dollars, and this proved that Mr. Smith did
not know anything of the value of the deceased
man’s legacy.
“That’s a heap of money,” said Leon.
“And now, Coleman, I’ll tell you what we
will do with you. If you will stay around
with Smith and learn all you can in regard to
his plans you shall not lose anything by it.
I want to find out if he gets somebody else to
assist him.”
Coleman promised, and having had his talk
out went away.
“I can easily give him a thousand dollars
to pay him for the trouble he has taken,” said
Leon.
“But you must remember that you haven’t
got the money yet,” said his father.
“Oh, I know I shall have some trouble in
getting it,” said Leon, while that firm expression
settled about his mouth. “When this
405trouble is over that fellow is going to camp
on the place, and just as likely as not he will
shoot down everybody who goes anywhere
near the money.”
“Leon, I am afraid to have you go there,”
said Mrs. Sprague.
“But think of the money! I tell you that
will set us up. Then I can get an education.
That’s one thing I will never have if I stay
down here.”
The matter was settled for the time being
by Mrs. Sprague’s putting the will into her
bosom and pinning it fast; then Leon went
out and mingled with his fellow-refugees.
But his feelings were very different from
those which he had experienced when he followed
his father into the lean-to. When he
came to think of what the will bequeathed
him it fairly took his breath away. It would
get them a little home somewhere, his mother
would be obliged to do no more work, and,
better than all, he would have money enough
left to send him to school.
“Well, Leon, you seem to be particularly
happy, and so am I,” said Mr. Giddings, as
406he took his seat near the door of his lean-to,
pulled off his hat and wiped the big drops of
perspiration from his forehead. “Or rather,
I should be happy if my brothers were out of
prison. I expect they have been executed by
this time.”
“If I thought that, it would make me shoot
to kill,” said Leon.
“Oh, won’t I, when I get the chance!” replied
Mr. Giddings, with so much excitement
that Leon was glad he was not a rebel. “I
am waiting for the colonel to say the word
and get me down there where I will have full
swing at them, and then every one that I pull
on goes up. I tell you, you don’t know anything
about rebellion down here.”
This started Mr. Giddings on his favorite
subject of conversation, and Leon sat there
and listened to him until they were called to
supper.
CHAPTER XIX. CONCLUSION.
407
But two adventures remain to be told regarding
Leon Sprague’s life as a Jones
county Confederate soldier. One was the
first real fight in which he bore a part, though
to tell the truth he didn’t remember much
about it, and the other the exploit he went
through in getting the money that had been
bequeathed to him.
It took one hundred men to guard the
island, and although there was no necessity
for having this number of men out, the colonel
thought it best to be on the safe side. He
selected the men, posted them himself, and
sat up nearly all night to make sure that they
were doing their duty. At the first peep of
day the men were all aroused, and, having
had breakfast, were getting ready to march
down to the hotel. How Leon’s eyes opened
408when he saw the men all in line after they
had got across the stream! His father said
that there were at least three thousand of
them—enough to whip four times their number
of rebels, if they were brought against
them. They were going back to the hotel
because it was the first point that the rebels
would strike in Jones county; and, more than
that, they had things very neatly fixed there
for the reception of any body of men who
might be brought against them. A long line
of breastworks extended across the edge of
the woods, one side being flanked by a deep
swamp and the other by the river, so it was
impossible to get behind them. They calculated
to whip the men right there. If they
didn’t, the island would be their next halting
place. The women had congregated on the
edge of the island to see them off, and after
giving them a hearty cheer to ease their hearts
when they were away, the cavalcade set out
on its journey.
“Now bring on your rebs!” said Dawson.
Nearly two-thirds of the men were on
horseback. They had attempted to form column
409of fours as nearly as they could, and
aided by some old soldiers, of whom there
were a goodly number in the ranks, they
managed to hit the right number at last, and
before the brigade had marched a mile it was
going along as orderly as any old body of
cavalrymen could have exhibited. Leon was
riding in the first four in company with Mr.
Giddings, Dawson and Tom Howe, and he
was as lively and jolly as could be. He
looked all around, but hehe couldn’t see either
Smith or Coleman. But, in spite of the fact
that there were men enough to protect him, he
wished that Smith was out of the way.
“I declare, it is always so,” soliloquized
Leon. “When you get everything going
just as you want it to, there is always somebody
to step in and knock the thing into a
cocked hat. Smith won’t get the money, and
he might as well give up trying.”
“Bring on your rebs, I say,” repeated Dawson,
raising his carbine and looking all around.
“We’re ready for a fight!”
“You may sing a different tune from that,”
said Mr. Giddings.
410“I know I may, but I hope not,” said Dawson.
“I want to keep up long enough to pay
the rebels for burning our house.”
It was three o’clock when they arrived
within sight of Ellisville, and then Mr. Dawson,
who had been riding all the way with
Mr. Sprague, took command. Under his
supervision the Union men were all posted behind
the breastworks, and each one knew
where he belonged. His camp was right where
he halted, and all the men had to do was to
throw off their arms, picket their horses and
wait for dinner and supper, which were to be
served together. If there was anything to
which Leon objected it was to being held
down with a firm hand. He wanted to go
with his father, for by doing that he knew
that he would be in a fair way to learn all the
news that happened within the borders of the
Jones-County Confederacy, as well as some
things that occurred outside of it; so he
climbed the breastworks and went down to
the porch of the hotel, where he found all the
chief men of the county gathered and holding
a consultation with his father.
411“I thought it best to burn the bridge, and
move our pickets up nearer headquarters, for
it would put the rebels to some trouble to swim
their horses over the creek,” Mr. Knight was
saying to his father when he came up. “If
we only had our breastworks built nearer the
creek we could whip them before they ever
got across.”
“I think that is the best way, and I wondered
long ago that you didn’t think of it before,”
said Mr. Sprague. “Halloo! there is
something coming, down there. And what’s
that waving over them? It is a white flag, as
sure as I live! Knight, you are getting to be
a big man when the enemy comes to consult
you in that way.”
“I declare, I believe that’s what it is!” said
Mr. Knight, after he and the other chief men
of the party had taken a good view of it.
“Now, we don’t want them to see how many
men we have got, and I want you to order
them all into the breastworks out of sight.
Tell them that we will describe the whole
thing to them after the rebels go away.”
The chief men went off at once to obey the
412order, and by time the two Confederates got
up to the hotel porch there wasn’t more than a
half-dozen of them in sight—just enough to
act as body-guard for the President. There
were two rebels in the party, and with them
were four pickets whom they had picked up
after they had swam their horses across the
creek.
“Here’s a couple of gentlemen who
want to see the President,” said one of the
pickets. “They have come to us with General
Lowery’s compliments and want us to surrender.”
“Well, I guess they can take General
Lowery’s compliments back to him and say
we didn’t come out here to surrender,surrender,” said
Mr. Knight.
“I want to see—are you the President?”
asked one of the rebels, opening his eyes in
surprise.
“I have that honor,” replied Mr. Knight.
The rebels looked at him in profound astonishment.
If any of the other men standing
around had said that he was the President
of the Jones-County Confederacy, they
413might have believed it; but for this man, who
stood there with his coat off, his hands in his
pockets and his hat perched on the back of
his head—for him to say that he was the head
and front of that rebellion, was almost too
much. The rebels looked at him, and then
they looked at the men standing around.
There didn’t seem to be but a few of them,
and perhaps it was not going to be much to
whip them, after all.
“General Lowery wants you to surrender
at once,” said the rebel, who had grown bolder
since he looked around.
“You have my answer, sir,” said Mr.
Knight.
“If you surrender, we will let the privates
off if they will enlist in the army,” said the
colonel, for Leon made out that that was his
rank. “But the chief men of the party will
have to go under arrest and be tried for treason.”
“That’s very kind of General Lowery, but
somehow we are not ready to be tried yet. We
won’t surrender.”
“Why, my goodness, my friend, there won’t
414be a living man of you left by this time to-morrow.
How many men have you got here,
anyway?”
“About five thousand.”
“Why, I don’t see anybody.”
“Of course you don’t; but if you bring
your four thousand four hundred men up
here—”
“Have you had spies out?” asked the rebel,
more surprised than ever.
“We know how many men you have, and
we know that we outnumber them,” said Mr.
Knight.
“Then, of course, you won’t surrender if
you have that number of men. Then we may
as well go back.”
“I think it would be as well. We are
bound to kill and capture some of the men
you bring against us, and to-morrow we’ll
send them inside of your lines with their
paroles.”
“Yes? Well, their paroles won’t amount
to a row of pins.”
“I think they will. If we capture any of
the men without being exchanged we’ll hang
415them to the nearest tree. Good-morning,
sir.”
It was right on the rebel’s tongue to tell
Mr. Knight to look out or he would get hung
himself, but he didn’t say it. After looking
all around to make sure that there were no
Union men in sight he wheeled his horse and
rode off, accompanied by the pickets. No
sooner were they out of sight around the first
bend than the men began to pour out of their
breastworks, and in five minutes more the
hotel grounds in front of the porch were just
black with an eager, excited crowd, all anxious
to hear what the rebels had to say. Mr.
Sprague took the part of spokesman, and
when he told them what the Confederates
had said about there not being one Union
man left alive by this time to-morrow, the
announcement was received with whoops and
yells.
“Let them bring their men on!” shouted
Bud McCoy. “We are all ready for them.”
“You must remember that the demand for
a surrender comes before a fight,” said Mr.
Sprague. “They may be up here in an hour,
416and I think I had better send some men down
there to reinforce those pickets.”
“I’ll go for one,” and “I’ll go for another,”
were the exclamations that arose from the
crowd, and in less time than it takes to tell it
five hundred men were all mounted and armed,
and rode up to the porch to listen to their
final instructions from Mr. Knight. Leon
wanted to go, too, but a positive shake of the
head from his father told him that that thing
wouldn’t do at all.
“You will get fighting enough if you stay
right here,” said Mr. Sprague. “You do your
duty here under my eye and that is all I shall
ask of you.”
“Make as good a fight as you can, boys,”
said Mr. Knight. “Only, don’t let them get
behind you. Be sure and retreat while you
have the chance.”chance.”
The reinforcements rode on down the road
with Mr. Dawson in command, and as soon as
they were out of sight a silence fell upon the
men they had left behind. All were listening
for the first report of a carbine or rifle that
should announce the opening of the battle.
417One hour passed, and then two, and just as
darkness came down to conceal the movements
of the rebels the long-wished-for report
came. It was followed by a moment’s silence,
and then it seemed as if a hurricane was going
through the woods. The Confederates had
deployed their line until it reached the woods,
where it was lost to view, and in that manner
charged across the stream and through the
timber. But where were the Union men who
were to oppose them? For three miles they
went through the woods, and then all of a
sudden the opposition came when they least
expected it. It was the report of a carbine
in the hands of young Dawson, and the nearest
colonel threw up his arms and fell from
his horse. A moment afterward the woods
were fairly aflame in advance of them.
Scarcely a yell was heard, for the Union men
fought as though they had life and liberty at
stake.
“Fire low, boys,” said Mr. Dawson, as he
loaded up for another shot. “If you strike a
man in the legs it will take two to carry him
off.”
418The Union men fired three times before
they thought of retreat, and the middle of the
line was not only thrown into confusion, but
it was annihilated, so that their officers could
not get anybody to charge upon their concealed
enemy; but the wings were all right—they
were stretched out so far in the woods
that they could easily wrap around the Union
men and capture them all—and they hastily
got on their horses and beat a quick retreat.
The company that came along the road was
badly cut up. They were marching in column
of fours, and it was their intention, after they
got the Union men in full flight, to follow
them in, and they would go with such rapidity
that they would take the breastworks at once.
But after the smoke had cleared away there
wasn’t more than a dozen men left. The
riders had been shot down, and the horses,
having no one to control them, were running
frantically about, trampling the dead and
dying under their feet.
“That’s pretty well done for the first time,”
said Mr. Dawson, when he had made up his
mind that all of his battalion were in the
419road. The rest were in the woods, and could
easily fight their way to Ellisville. “Now,
boys, give them as good as they send.”
The retreat to Ellisville was accomplished
in short order, and when the rebels broke from
the woods and uttered their charging yell
they couldn’t see a single man. They were
all behind their breastworks.
“I tell you we gave it to them down there
in the woods,” said Dawson, as he rode along
behind the breastworks until he found Leon
and Tom. “You ought to have been along.
I reckon I have paid the rebels for burning
our house. I lifted one officer out of his saddle
as clean as a whistle.”
“Did you kill him?” asked Leon.
“Well, I reckon so. He threw his arms
above his head, and that is a pretty good sign
that he was done for.”
“Did you hear any bullets come near you?”
inquired Leon, who shuddered when he
thought how coolly Dawson could talk of
shooting another in cold blood.
“Yes, sir, I heard them; but the rebels
fired too high. I saw one man clap his hand
420to his mouth and say ‘Oh!’ but I didn’t see
who it was. There they come!” said Dawson,
grasping his carbine with a firmer hold and
creeping up to an opening in the breastworks.
“Now, Leon, show what you are made of.”
“It is certain death to send those fellows
up here!” said Leon. “I wish I could warn
them away.”
“Haw! haw!” laughed Dawson. “They
know what is behind here better than we can
tell them. If they don’t, they will soon find it
out.”
Mr. Sprague stood a little ways from Leon
with his rifle in his hand. He had charge of
the brigade now, and it was his duty to give
the order to fire. Nearer and nearer came the
rebels, yelling like so many mad men, but the
report of Mr. Sprague’s gun couldn’t be
heard. As soon as the men saw him raise his
piece to his shoulder they all fired, and the
way the rebels went down before it was certain
proof that their bullets had not all been
thrown away. But these men were not to be
defeated by one volley. They kept on until
they reached the breastworks, and then they
421found that they were too high to be scaled by
their horses. The Union men on the other
side reached over and fired their guns in their
faces, until the Confederates could stand it no
longer. They turned their horses and fled,
and did not stop until they were safe in the
woods, from which they had just emerged.
“Long live the Jones-County Confederacy!”
shouted some one in the ranks; and the shout
was taken up by all the men in the line.
“Let’s go after them!” said another. “We
can easy whip them.”
“No, stay where you are,” said Mr.
Sprague, who got his instructions from Mr.
Knight. “We can whip them here, but if
we should get out of line of the breastworks
they might prove too much for us.”
It was the occasion of no little difficulty
for the Confederate officers to rally their men,
and the trouble was that those who belonged
to the right and left wings reported that it
was impossible to flank the Union position.
Those on the right said that there was a
swamp in which many men had been killed
in their efforts to get around it, and the men
422who belonged on the left reported that there
was the river there, and that any attempt to
get by it would be useless. General Lowery
began to see that the Union men were not to be
easily whipped, but he used all his eloquence
and authority to induce them to make an effort
to carry the centre of the line. He dismounted
some of his men with instructions to
go and throw down the breastworks, and the
rebel cavalry was to be close behind them and
go in at the openings they had made. This
was the plan that General Lee decided on
when he made the attempt to split Grant’s
lines by his assault on Fort Steadman. He
had half his army in that exploit, but his effort
ended just as General Lowery’s did to
split the Union lines here. The second attempt
was grandly made, and the fight lasted
a little longer than it did at first; but the dismounted
men were quickly picked off, the
cavalry began dropping here and there, and
finally, without a word from anybody, they all
took to their heels. This time there was
nothing said about pursuit, for the Union
men had their blood up, and nobody could
423have controlled them. By the time the rebels
were in the woods the Union men had
mounted their horses and started after them.
Leon was in this exploit, and his father did
not tell him to stay behind. He didn’t find
any Confederates on the way, but he assisted
in making some noise, so he did just as much
as anybody.
This was the last attempt that was made to
break up the Jones-county Confederacy. The
rebels saw that the Union men were in earnest
and they gave it up as a bad job. A week
afterward a big wagon-train was captured and
taken to their place of refuge on the island,
and after that the Union men breathed a good
deal easier. They were going to have grub
enough to support them, no matter what happened.
About this time, too, some more men
began to come in, and Leon saw the army
grow from one thousand men to more than
twenty thousand. Of course with such an
army as that the Confederates wouldn’t try to
whip them. They minded their own business,
going out whenever they thought that their
provisions were getting low, and picking up
424wagon-trains and taking them where they
would do the most good. Of course, too, these
parties when they went out always captured
some papers, which were read until they almost
crumbled to pieces. When the rebels
were defeated at Vicksburg and Gettysburg
the Union men drew a long breath of relief,
for they thought that the war was almost
ended and that they could go home; but there
were some severe battles to be fought before
their flag could wave over the entire country.
One day, long months after this, when Leon
had got so tired of being a soldier that he
wished that the Confederacy would sink or do
something else that would wipe it out of existence,
he was out with a party of skirmishers,
when they ran plump onto a rebel soldier
who had a gun on his shoulder, and acted as
though he was going somewhere. In an instant
Bud McCoy’s pistol was aimed at his
breast.
“Put up your revolver, young man!” said
the rebel, who did not seem at all abashed by
finding himself in the company of Union
men. “You belong down in Jones county,
425don’t you? Well, I want to say that you are
behind the times. General Lee has surrendered!”
Bud and the rest were so astonished that
they could not say a word.
“It’s a fact,” continued the rebel. “I
wasn’t there, because I was in our Western
army, but I heard of it, and more than five
thousand of us escaped that night. The Confederacy
has gone up!”
“I tell you I am glad of it,” replied Leon.
“Why didn’t you surrender when you got
whipped at Gettysburg?”
“A good many men said it ought to have
been done,” answered the rebel, “but I wasn’t
at the head of affairs. You had better let me
go, for I want to reach home and see my wife.
I haven’t seen her since I went into the service.”
The foragers were only too glad to let him
go. They would have passed anybody who
brought such news as that; and, furthermore,
they wheeled their horses and went back to
Ellisville with much more speed than they
had shown in coming out. There was joy on
426the island when they told what the rebel had
said to them, and some of the men fired off
their guns in ecstacy; but Mr. Knight said
that the rebels had so long been accustomed
to lying that they didn’t know when they
spoke the truth, and suggested that it would
be better for them if they sent a couple of
men down to Mobile to see what was going
on there. Any number of men offered themselves,
but two were promptly sent, and while
they were gone the refugees hardly knew what
to do with themselves. In due time the men
came back, and, better than all, they swung a
paper over their heads.
“It’s a Yankee paper, and now we’ll get at
the truth of the matter,” said one of the messengers.
“Yes, sir, Lee has surrendered;
that whole army has surrendered, and the
fortifications down at Mobile are just black
with Yankees!”
Cheers long and loud rent the air at this
announcement, so that it was a long time before
Mr. Sprague could read what the paper
said in regard to Lee’s surrender. When he
read it, the cheers once more broke out afresh.
427“They said that we couldn’t take this
county out of the Confederacy,” said Mr.
Knight. “I reckon we’ve done something
that nobody else could do.”
A day or two after this, companies of Union
cavalry began scouting about Mobile to see if
they could find any rebels, and some of them
presented themselves before Mr. Knight. The
officer listened in amazement while he was
told the story, and when Mr. Knight had got
through he laughed until he could hardly sit
on his horse. The Union men all laughed,
too; and, taken all together, it was a jolly
party—very different from what they felt
while they were resisting the cavalry that
tried so hard to overpower them. The officer
told them that they could go home, that the
war was ended, and that they would never be
called upon to fight for the flag again.
After that there was a good deal of excitement
in and around Ellisville, for the refugees
were making efforts to go home. The
bridge over the bayou that had been burned
to keep the rebels from getting across so easily
was rebuilt, and after that Leon and his father
428had their hands full in saying good-bye to
the Union men, who wished them every success
in life. Then they went home and went
to work, getting their ground ready to plant
a supply of cotton, glad indeed to handle
a plow once more instead of a rifle. Their
object was to throw Smith off the scent. They
had seen him a few times during the last few
months, but he had nothing to say to them;
but the sequel proved that he knew what he
was talking about when he threatened to
camp on his cousin’s place and shoot the man
or boy who came there for the money. He
lived in Mr. Smith’s house, for the rebels had
not had time to set the buildings on fire; but
it was close to the pig-pen, so it would be next
to impossible for them to go there and dig for
what was hidden in it, and every day he rode
over the plantation, to make sure that the
Spragues had not dug in some other place.
Mr. Sprague kept close watch of his movements,
and one day announced to Leon his
plan of action.
“We will go there and hunt for that money
to-night,” said he. “But, mind you, we won’t
429dig where it is. We will go down into the
lower part of the plantation and dig there,
and when we come away we’ll leave a shovel
there. How will that do? He will be sure
to see the shovel, and at night he will watch
that place and leave the pig-pen free for
us.”
Leon didn’t see that anything else could be
done, so he readily fell in with his father’s
proposal. When night came they set out,
and selecting a place where some brush had
been thrown to get it out of the way, they
threw it aside, and in a few minutes had a
hole dug there that was six feet deep. Then
they placed a shovel in a conspicuous position
and went home, wondering what was to be the
result of Mr. Sprague’s new scheme. They
were not long in finding out. The next day
about ten o’clock Leonard Smith rode by on
his horse, and, seeing the father and son employed
in plowing the field, stopped and had a
word to say to them.
“You didn’t get the money last night, did
you?” he asked, while his face was white with
fury. “I know where it is now, and I will
430give you fair warning that if either of you go
there again I will shoot you.”
Mr. Sprague made no reply, and Smith rode
off. When night came they set out again—only,
this time they went on horseback, and
told Mrs. Sprague that if she heard them
going by some time during the night—she
must pack up the next day and go to Mobile.
Mr. Sprague and Leon were armed, of course.
They went up the road until they came to Mr.
Smith’s gate, and there Mr. Sprague left Leon
while he went ahead to reconnoitre. He was
gone half an hour, and when he came back his
words were full of news.
“There’s nobody about the house,” said he,
and one wouldn’t think that he had a hundred
thousand dollars at stake. “Now, we
must go quickly. Stay by the horses’ heads,
so that they won’t call out. I will do the digging.”
With a heart that beat like a trip-hammer
Leon dismounted, passed the shovel over to
his father, and followed along after him when
he led the way toward the pig-pen. The
house was all dark, and it didn’t look as
431though anybody lived there, but Leon couldn’t
help drawing a long breath when he thought
of the unerring rifle that was hidden somewhere
about. His father got into the pen and
pried up the boards, and he did it without
causing anything to creak. Then by putting
down his shovel in various positions he found
where the earth had been disturbed, and then
he went to work. Never had he worked so
hard before, but it seemed an age to Leon, as
he stood there holding fast to the horses. At
length, to his great relief, his father seized
something and held it over the side of the
pen.
“Leon,”“Leon,” he exclaimed, “here’s one of them!”
How heavy it was! But just as Leon was
going to take it he heard the sound of horses’
hoofs up Mr. Smith’s lane. His horses heard
it, too, and raised their heads to see what was
coming.
“Father, father, they are coming back!”
he faltered. “Can’t you find the other one?”
“Yes, here it is. Now,Now, you get on your
horse and ride for dear life and I will stay behind.
I will keep them from overtaking you.”
432Leon was on his horse in a moment, the
other valise was passed up to him, and in another
second he was flying down the road. Mr.
Sprague was close behind him, but before they
had gone far they heard some muttered ejaculations
from the horsemen, followed by the
command:
“I declare, there is that Sprague.Sprague. Halt!
I say halt!”
But Leon and his father were not given to
halting. Their horses went faster than ever,
and by the time Smith—for he was one of the
party—had lingered to look at the pig-pen,
they were far out of sight. Then followed a
volley from their carbines—not one or two
of them—but from a dozen which proved
that Smith had found more than one man to
assist him. But all the balls went high or
wild, and Mr. Sprague and Leon got safely
off. They crossed the bridge, travelled rapidly
along the road that led to Mobile, and by ten
o’clock the next day had the money safely in
the bank. On the next day but one Mrs.
Sprague came along. She told a pretty thrilling
story about what had happened to her
433since Mr. Sprague left. Smith was so mad to
think they had got away with the money
that he burned her house over her head, and
did not even leave her a negro cabin to go in to.
The hidden fortune safe at last.
Here we will leave Leon Sprague, only
stating that he came on to Clayton, where Mr.
Sprague had some friends, who gave him a
cordial welcome. They purchased a neat little
house which had been deserted by its
owner during the war, and as they now lived
there six years it began to look very home-like.
He made the acquaintance of Bob Nellis
almost as soon as he got into town, through
him learned of the academy at which the latter
was preparing for college, and went with
him and entered his name on the books when
he went there next term. Of course he was
in the lowest class, but he studied his books
night and day, and the result was very soon
apparent. In two years he was up with boys
of his own age.
We said that Joe Lufkin had not forgotten
the raid he was going to make on that watering
place the time he talked of stealing all
the jewels. He made it, and perhaps we shall
434see what came of it. His son Hank got a
boat about this time; and what he did with it,
and how it took Joe Lufkin almost two hundred
miles to sea, shall be told in “The Cruise
of the Ten-Ton Cutter.”
Transcriber’s Note
Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and
are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.
The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions.
