WITH PRICE'S MEN.
In obedience to the order of his superior the lieutenant stepped upon
the porch and beckoned to some of his men, who at once came in and began
the work of disarming the citizens. Although the latter gave up their
weapons without a show of resistance, they scowled when they did it in a
way that impelled Tom to whisper to his friend:
"Their looks prove how desperate and savage they are, and we are lucky
in getting out of their hands; but I don't know but I have jumped out of
the frying-pan into the fire. Bear in mind that from this minute I go by
my middle name--Barton. As you value my safety, don't say Percival once.
I am not sure that these Confederates ever heard the name, but I mustn't
run the slightest risk."
"Of course not," replied Rodney. "But how in the world do you suppose
they found out that we were here?"
"It will be your place to ask them about that. You must do the talking
now. Do you want our guns, lieutenant?"
The latter stood by his men while they were disarming the citizens, and
in moving about the room came within reach of the two boys, who produced
their revolvers and held them so that he could see them; but when he
smiled and waved his hand as if to say "I don't want them," they put the
weapons back in their places.
If it hadn't been for two things, Rodney Gray would have been as happy
as a boy ever gets to be. He was among friends, the very ones, too, he
wanted to find, and from that time on he could appear in his true
character; but he trembled for his friend and for the safety of Mr.
Truman's property. The latter, remembering the lights he had seen on the
clouds the night before, and knowing how deadly was the enmity that
existed between Union men and Confederates in his State, could hope for
nothing but the worst, and Rodney thought from the expression on his
face and his wife's, that they were endeavoring to nerve themselves for
a most trying ordeal. Would he have to stand by and see their buildings
go up in smoke? He hoped not, and when the officer commanding the squad
came up and shook hands with him and Tom, Rodney was ready to say
something in Mr. Truman's favor.
"You have been insulted, boys," said the officer, in a tone which
implied that now was the time for them to take any revenge they wanted.
"When I was surrounding the house I heard one of these Yankee
sympathizers using rather strong language, and denouncing you as
Secessionists trying to impose upon Union men."
"I don't hold that against him, for to tell you the truth, that's just
the way the thing stands," answered Rodney. "I have been playing Union
man ever since I left Mr. Westall and his squad of Emergency men near
Cedar Bluff landing. I had to, for somehow I didn't fall in with any but
people of that stamp."
"That was all right," answered the officer. "You couldn't have got
through any other way."
"So you see that Merrick's darkey told you nothing more than the plain
truth," he added, addressing the citizen who had shaken a fist under his
nose.
"I was sure of it, and I am not sorry for what I did or said," replied
the Union man, boldly. "I am sorry that the thing happened in Truman's
house, and I wish to assure you that he is in no way to blame for our
being here. You've got the power on your side now, and I suppose you
will use it; but whatever you do to us, I hope you will not harm
Truman."
"I say that a man who can talk like that when he is in danger himself,
has pluck," Rodney remarked, turning his back to the citizen and
speaking so that no one but the officer and Tom could catch his words.
"Oh, they've all got pluck," replied the officer. "And they hang
together like a lot of brothers."
"And I say further, that brave men ought not to be harmed when they are
perfectly helpless, as these men are now," continued Rodney. "You
haven't anything against them, have you, colonel?"
"Captain," corrected the latter, pointing to the insignia on his collar.
"You'll soon learn how to tell one rank from another. N-o; I don't know
that I have anything against them, except their principles; but some of
their neighbors I saw to-night while I was coming here, declare that
they are villains of the very worst sort."
"What else could you expect in a community like this where every man has
turned against his best friend?" exclaimed Tom. "You are a Missourian
and understand the situation as well as I do."
"I have been urged to burn their houses; and as I was sent out to harass
the enemy as well as to pick up recruits, I don't know but I had better
do it," replied the captain; and the boys saw plainly enough that having
made up his mind to carry out his orders, he did not want to permit
himself to be turned from his purpose.
"But Rodney and I have been well enough drilled in military law to know
that an officer on detached service is allowed considerable latitude,"
chimed in Tom. "If you see any reason why you should not obey orders to
the very letter, you are not expected to do it."
"And in this case I hope you won't do it," pleaded Rodney. "If those
cowardly neighbors, who tried to set out against these Union men, want
their property destroyed, let them do the dirty work themselves. I don't
believe in making war on people who don't think as I do."
"I don't reckon there are any half-wild Unionists in your settlement,"
said the captain, with a smile.
"I know it. I am from Louisiana where Union men have to keep their
tongues to themselves," replied Rodney; and then seeing that the captain
looked surprised he hastened to add: "I came to Missouri to enlist under
Price because I couldn't join a partisan company where I lived; and I
was encouraged to come by a telegram I received from Dick Graham's
father. Dick is one of Price's men and perhaps you know him."
"Do you?" inquired the lieutenant, who stood by listening.
"I ought to, and so had Tom, for we went to school with him, and
belonged to his class and company."
"Where was that?"
"At the Barrington Military Academy. I am Rodney Gray and my friend is
Tom Barton."
Rodney said all this at a venture and was overjoyed to hear the
lieutenant say, as he thrust out his hand:
"Shake. I ought to know Rodney Gray, for I have often heard the sergeant
speak of him as the hottest rebel in school; but I don't remember that I
ever heard him mention Barton's name."
"He wasn't as intimate with Tom as he was with me," Rodney explained.
"There was a difference in their politics."
"That accounts for it. Graham was neutral until his State moved, and
Barton here was an ardent Secessionist from the start. That's just the
way my captain and I stand now. I began shouting for Southern rights as
soon as Carolina went out, and he didn't."
"No, Dick held back," said Tom, "but Rodney did not. He was the first
academy boy to hoist the Stars and Bars. But now, captain, say that you
will not harm these folks. They haven't done anything, and as for the
strong language they used toward us a while ago--we don't mind that."
"Who's your authority for saying that they haven't done anything?"
demanded the captain. "You seem to think that they are the most
innocent, inoffensive people in the world; but I know that is not
characteristic of Unionists in this part of the country. How do you know
but that they have ambushed scores of Confederates?"
"We don't know it; and seeing that you don't know it either, why not
give them the benefit of the doubt and let their neighbors see that they
get their deserts? Why not be satisfied with what you have already done?
You burned two houses last night."
"I am aware of it. The men to whom they belonged are noted bushwhackers,
and I went miles out of my way to teach them that they had better let
our people alone--that burning and shooting are games that two can play
at. But I have no heart for more work of that sort, and so I'll not
trouble these men since you seem to be so tender-hearted toward them."
"Thank you, sir; thank you," replied Rodney, heartily. "Now will you
pass us out, and send some men to the stable with us to get our
horses?"
"I'll go with you myself," said the lieutenant; but as he was about to
lead the way out of the house he stopped to hear what his captain had to
say to Mr. and Mrs. Truman.
"We shall not touch your property, and you may thank these two
'traitors' for it," said the officer; and when he said "traitor," he
waved his hand toward Rodney and Tom and paused to note the effect of
his words.
The men, after the first shock of surprise had passed, seemed ready to
drop, Mr. Truman leaned heavily against the nearest wall, and his wife,
who had borne up as bravely as the best of them, behaved as women
usually do under such circumstances. She buried her face in her
handkerchief and sobbed violently.
"I hope you gentlemen will remember my forbearance and be equally
lenient toward any Confederate who may chance to fall into your power,"
continued the captain, whose calm, steady voice had grown husky all on a
sudden. "We are not a bad lot, but we are going to govern this State as
we please, and you will save yourselves trouble if you will stop
fighting against us. You'll have to do it sooner or later. Of course I
shall be obliged to deprive you of your guns, for you might be tempted
to shoot them at some loyal Jackson man when we are not here to protect
him. I have saved these young gentlemen from your clutches, and as that
was what I came for, I will bid you good-evening."
Rodney Gray did not hear much of this polite address for a new fear had
taken possession of him, and he took the opportunity to say to his
friend Tom:
"You go with the lieutenant after the horses, and I will stay with the
captain to say a word in your defense in case any of these Union people
happen to speak your name, or let out anything else you would rather
keep hidden."
Tom thought this a good suggestion. It would certainly be disagreeable,
and perhaps dangerous, to have the captain tell him when he returned
with the horses that he wasn't Tom Barton at all--that his real name was
Percival, that he was the commander of a company of Union men who had
offered to help Lyon at St. Louis, and all that. While Tom did not think
the captain would believe such a story if it were told him, it might
suggest to him some leading questions that the boys would find it hard
to answer. So he left Rodney to act as a sort of rear guard, and went
off to the stable with the lieutenant.
"Did you really know that we were in the house?" Tom asked, when he was
alone with the officer. "If you did, it can't be that Merrick's boy told
you."
"Of course he didn't. He would have kept it from us if he could, but all
the same the information came from him in the first place. The blacks in
these parts are all Union--no one need waste his breath telling me
different--and that scamp of a boy lost no time in spreading it among
the Union men in the neighborhood that there were a couple of 'disguised
rebels,' as he called you and Gray, putting up at Truman's house. That
was the way those five fellows came to get on your trail; but, as good
luck would have it, the darkey told the story to too many. Not being as
well acquainted in this settlement as he probably is in his own, he told
it to a Jackson man, who rode to our camp and told us of it. If it
hadn't been for that we should be miles away now; but of course we
couldn't think of going off and leaving some of our own people in the
hands of the enemy."
"You rendered us a most important service," replied Tom; and he told
nothing but the truth when he said it. "It is necessary that I should go
home on business, but Rodney Gray wants to enlist in an independent
command as soon as he can get the chance. Didn't you speak of Dick
Graham as a sergeant?"
"May be so. That's what he is."
"Does he belong to your company?"
"No; but he belongs to our regiment, and that's how I came to get
acquainted with him. He's got more friends than any other fellow I know
of, and he will be glad to see an old schoolmate once more. I have heard
him tell of Rodney Gray and the scrapes he got into by speaking his mind
so freely, and I am not the only one in the regiment who thinks that the
Barrington Military Academy is a disgrace to the town and State in which
it is located. The citizens ought to have turned out some night and torn
it up root and branch."
"They would have had a good time trying it," said Tom. "The boys punched
one another's head on the parade ground now and then, but it wasn't safe
for an outsider to interfere with our private affairs."
"Why, the Confederates wouldn't fight for the Union boys, would they?"
exclaimed the lieutenant. "That's a little the strangest thing I ever
heard of. We don't do business that way in Missouri, and I could see
that our boys didn't like it when you and Gray stuck up for those Yankee
sympathizers back there in the house."
Perhaps they wouldn't have liked it either, if they had known how Tom
and Rodney had "stuck up" for each other ever since they met at Cedar
Bluff landing. But that was a piece of news that Tom did not touch upon.
He intended to reserve it for Dick Graham's private ear.
"And in the meantime I mustn't neglect to ascertain just when and where
the lieutenant expects to rejoin his regiment, so that I can take the
first chance that offers to get away and strike out for home," thought
Tom. "Dick wouldn't expect to see me in Rodney Gray's company, and might
betray me before he knew what he was doing."
Having saddled and bridled the horses Tom and the lieutenant returned to
the house, the former somewhat anxious to know if anything had been said
during his absence that could be brought up against him. But a glance
and a reassuring smile from Rodney were enough to show him that he had
nothing to fear on that score. The guards stood at the windows watching
the party inside, the horses had been brought into the yard in readiness
for the squad to mount, and Rodney and the captain were sitting on the
front steps. The prisoners, if such they could be called, were too
sullen to exchange a word with the Confederates, and the captain thought
it beneath his dignity to talk to Union men; and Rodney was glad to have
it so.
"Bring in the guards and get a-going," was the order the captain gave
when his lieutenant came up; and this made it evident to the
well-drilled Barrington boys that Captain Hubbard's company of Rangers
were not the only Confederates who had a good deal to learn before they
could call themselves soldiers. But his men understood the order, and it
was the work of but a few minutes for them to get into their saddles and
set off down the road, and they did it without paying any more attention
to the men in the house. Rodney rode beside the captain at the head of
the column, Tom and the lieutenant coming next in line. The former
thought it was a good evening's work all around, and that Merrick's
red-eyed darkey could not have done him a greater service if he had been
a friend to him instead of an enemy. He had had a narrow escape from
being taken into the presence of men he hoped he might never see again,
but he was all right now. So was Tom, for if he wasn't already beyond
the danger of betrayal, he certainly would be by the time daylight
came.
"No; we shall not march all night," said the captain, in response to an
inquiry from Rodney. "We have been in the saddle pretty steadily for the
last week, and both men and horses are in need of rest. But I shall take
good care to get out of this settlement before going into camp. I don't
want to be ambushed."
"I don't think those men back there would do such a thing," replied
Rodney. "They seemed very grateful to you for letting them off so
easily."
"Ha!" exclaimed the captain. "They would do it in a minute if they
thought they could escape the consequences. You don't know how bitter
everybody is against everybody else who doesn't train with his crowd,
and you'll have to live among us a while before you can understand it."
"When shall I have the pleasure of shaking Dick Graham by the hand?"
inquired Rodney. "Does he stand up for State Rights as strongly as he
used?"
"Yes; and I am with him. You see, when the election was held in '60, our
people, by a vote of one hundred and thirty-five thousand to thirty
thousand, decided against the extreme rule-or-ruin party of the South,
and declared that Missouri ought to stay in the Union; but at the same
time they didn't deny that she had a perfect right to go out if she
wanted to. If she decided to go with South Carolina and the other cotton
States, the government at Washington had no business to send soldiers
here to stop her; neither had those troops from Illinois any business to
come across the Mississippi and steal our guns out of the St. Louis
arsenal. That was an act of invasion, and we had a right to get mad
about it. We decided to remain neutral, and our General Price made an
agreement with the Federal General Harney to that effect; but that did
not suit the abolitionists who want war and nothing else. They took
Harney's command away from him and gave it to Lyon, who at once
proceeded to do everything he could to drive us to desperation. He drove
us out of Jefferson City and Booneville, and now he has sent that
Dutchman Siegel to Springfield to see what damage he can do there."
"But what was the reason Siegel was sent to Springfield?" inquired Tom,
who, riding close behind the captain, heard every word he said. "Wasn't
it to repel the _invasion_ of McCulloch, who was coming from Arkansas
with eight hundred bandits he called Texan Rangers? Has he any right to
ride rough-shod through our State, when some of our own citizens are not
permitted to stick their heads out of doors?"
"Hallo!" exclaimed the captain, turning about in his saddle to face Tom,
while Rodney began to fear that his friend's tongue would get them both
into trouble. "You are about the same kind of a Confederate I am, only I
don't blurt out my opinions in that style, and you hadn't better do it,
either. To be consistent I am obliged to say that those Texans had no
business to come over the Missouri line, but circumstances alter cases.
We are in trouble, we can't stand against the power of the abolition
government, and I shall be glad to see that man McCulloch."
"I understand that there had been no fighting to speak of, and yet you
say we have been driven out of two places," said Rodney.
"Oh, we were not ready and the Yankees were," answered the captain. "We
had just lighting enough to give us a chance to learn how gunpowder
smells. We are waiting for McCulloch now, and when he comes, we'll
assume the offensive and drive Lyon out of the State."
"That's the very thing I came here for, and I am glad to know that I
shall be in time to help," said Rodney gleefully. "But are you a
partisan and is Dick Graham one, also?"
"Yes, to both your questions; but of course we are sworn into the
service of the State."
"You couldn't be ordered out of the State, could you?"
"Not by a long shot, and we wouldn't go if we were ordered out. If other
States desire independence, let them win it without calling upon their
neighbors for help. That's what we intend to do."
"And that was another thing I wanted to know," said Rodney, with a sigh
of relief. "I am satisfied now, and wish my company was here with me.
Some of the members seemed willing and even anxious to come, but when
the thing was brought before them in the form of a resolution, they
voted against it."
And then he went on to tell the captain how it happened that he came to
Missouri alone, not forgetting to mention how he had fooled the
telegraph operators at Baton Rouge and Mooreville.
"Those operators told that St. Louis cotton-factor I was a Confederate
bearer of dispatches," said he, in winding up his story. "But I haven't
a scrap of writing about me."
"You are a great deal safer without any," replied the officer. "Suppose
those Union men at Truman's house had searched you and found a letter of
introduction to some well-known Confederate living in these parts! They
might have strung you up before we had time to go to your relief. But
how did you fall in with your old schoolmate, Barton? You couldn't have
expected to meet him at the landing?"
This was a question that Rodney Gray had been dreading, for you will
remember that he had had no opportunity to hold a private consultation
with Tom and ask him what sort of a reply he should make when this
inquiry was propounded, as it was sure to be sooner or later. He turned
about in his saddle and rode sideway so that Tom could hear every word
he said.
"He was the last person in the world I expected to see when I left the
steamer at Cedar Bluff landing to get ahead of the Yankee cotton-factor
in St. Louis," said Rodney. "Tom had been over Cape Girardeau way on
business, and got a trifle out of his reckoning when Mr. Westall and his
party of Emergency men picked him up and brought him to the
wood-cutters' camp. We slept there that night and came out together in
the morning."
This was a desperate story to tell, seeing that they were not yet out of
reach of men who could easily prove that there was quite as much
falsehood as truth in it, but Rodney did not know what else to say. He
rested his hopes of safety upon the supposition that the Confederate
captain had done all his scouting on interior lines, and that he had not
been into the river counties until he came to Truman's house to rescue
him and Tom from the power of the Union men; and there was where his
good luck stood him in hand. More than that, Dick Graham was one of the
best known members of his regiment, and it would have taken a pretty
good talker to make the captain believe that there could be anything
wrong with one of Dick's friends.
While this conversation was going on Rodney noticed that the captain was
constantly on his guard, and that as often as they reached a place where
the woods came down close to the road on each side, his men closed up
the ranks without waiting for orders. Every house they passed was as
dark as a dungeon, and no sounds of music and dancing came from the
negro quarters. The people, white and black, had gone into their houses
and barred their doors to wait until these unwelcome visitors in gray
had taken themselves out of the neighborhood.
Before the captain went into camp, which he did about midnight, Tom
Percival, as we shall continue to call him, had ample time to question
the lieutenant and find out where his regiment was stationed and when he
expected to join it. The last question, however, was one that the young
officer could not answer with any degree of accuracy.
"You see we have some men with us who are not in uniform, do you not?"
said he. "Well, they are the recruits we have picked up since we have
been out on this scout. They have been terribly persecuted by the Union
men in their settlement, and want us to stop on our way back long enough
to burn those Union men out. If we do, it will delay us a day or two; if
we don't, and keep lumbering right along, we shall be with the rest of
the boys in less than forty-eight hours."
This was what Tom wanted to know; and he decided that when the squad
reached the old post-rode and turned up toward the place at which the
regiment was stationed, he would go south toward Springfield, and so
avoid the risk of meeting Dick Graham.
"I suppose you know your own business best," said the lieutenant, when
Tom announced his decision. "But I'll never go piking off through the
country alone so long as I know what I am doing. There's too much danger
in it. When you get ready to go into the service, remember that our
regiment is one of the very best, and that we are ready to welcome all
volunteers with open arms."
The two boys slept under the same blankets that night, but the talking
they did was intended for the benefit for those who were lying near
them, rather than for each other. Tom sent numberless messages to Dick
Graham, and wanted Rodney to be sure and tell him that he (Tom) would be
a member of his company before its next battle with the Yankees; all of
which Rodney promised to bear in mind. The squad broke their fast next
morning on provisions which they had "foraged" from the Union men whose
buildings they had destroyed two nights before, and at eight o'clock
arrived at the old post-road where the Barrington boys were to take
leave of each other, to meet again perhaps under hostile flags and with
deadly weapons in their hands. But there was one thing about it: They
might be enemies in name, but they never would in spirit.
"There goes one of the bravest and best fellows that ever lived," said
Rodney, facing about in his saddle to take a last look at his friend who
rode away with a heavy heart.
"Don't be so solemn over it," said the captain. "Didn't he say he would
come back as soon as he could?"
Yes, that was what Tom said; but the trouble was, that when he came
again he might come in such a way that Rodney could not shake hands with
him.