"I have no positive information, but I think that Mitchel captured
Huntsville today!"
Andrews was speaking. An exclamation of surprise came from the men who were
clustered about him in a room of the hotel at Marietta. There were nineteen
of them; travel-worn, tired and still wet from the incessant rain. It was
their last conference before the raid.
"The line between Chattanooga and Corinth is blocked," continued Andrews,
"and no one knows the cause of it. No trains and no telegraph messages are
coming through. Of course it may be that Beauregard has heard of Mitchel's
advance and has chosen to operate in silence. All that we can do is hope
and pray for the best, and carry out our orders. If we can destroy the
railroad between here and Chattanooga, it will put the city at Mitchel's
mercy. Then our work is done. It will remain for Mitchel and Beauregard to
fight it out."
He paused, and there was a moment of profound silence while the men
considered the situation. Then Andrews spoke again:
"The fact that action has started between Chattanooga and Corinth means
that our task is additionally hazardous. The odds we must overcome are
greater than I expected. If we have made a mistake in delaying a day, we
must work the harder to keep that mistake from costing Mitchel his victory.
The train we are to capture leaves Marietta at six o'clock tomorrow
morning. I will see that you are called before five so that you will have
plenty of time to get to the station. Carry food with you, for there's no
telling when you'll sit at a table again. Buy tickets for points north of
Big Shanty--Allatoona, Etowah, Calhoun and Dalton--so that you won't excite
suspicion. Get aboard the same car in groups of two and three, and don't
show that you are acquainted. Avoid all talk about the raid. We must say
everything that is to be said here tonight before we separate. I will be in
the same car, and if trouble starts, follow me.
"At Big Shanty we will seize the train. The train stops at Big Shanty for
the crew and passengers to have breakfast. Stay in the car until the others
have left; then, when you see me leave, follow me to the head of the
trains. Walk slowly, and carelessly, as though you were simply out to
stretch your legs. Brown and Knight will go with me to the engine, and you,
Burns"--he pointed to Tom--"you come with us, too. I want you as fireman.
Ross will uncouple the train after the third box-car. The box-cars are
empties being sent to Chattanooga for supplies which the rebs are storing
in Atlanta. The doors will be unlocked. The rest of you are to climb aboard
the last box-car. Do all of you understand?" The men nodded. "Have your
guns ready to use in case there is any interference, but don't fire unless
you must. After the train has started...."
He paused; then, with a gesture which told them that he would not even try
to guess what might happen, he added: "We will succeed or leave our bones
in Dixie! That is all I can tell you. Tonight, before you go to sleep,
examine your guns and make sure that they are not clogged or rusty."
The meeting was over, and each man, as he stepped from the room, realized
that he was on the verge of a great adventure. They made their way silently
along the dark corridors of the hotel.
"I'm about ready to explode," said Tom. "Think of it! I'm going to be
fireman!"
"I'll make you heave wood so fast that you'll be sorry for that trick you
played in Chattanooga," replied Brown. "Did I tell you about that, Knight?"
Knight, Brown, Dorsey, Wilson, and Tom were all occupying the same room.
The hotel at Marietta was crowded, and the men were sleeping wherever they
could squeeze themselves in. Tom, Dorsey, and Brown, having had several
nights of good rest, had relinquished the bed and sofa to the three
newcomers, and had spread blankets on the floor.
"Let's lock the door, and look at our guns," suggested Tom. The lock was
broken, and so he barred the door with a chair. Then they sat on the bed,
with the lamp beside them, and talked while they unloaded their revolvers,
wiped away the rust and mud, and reloaded. Each told of his experiences and
narrow escapes. Knight had been arrested as a deserter from the Confederate
army. Wilson and Shadrack had stolen a ferryboat and crossed the Tennessee
River at night, Brown and Dorsey had shared their food with two Confederate
sentries who had stopped them as they crossed the railroad bridge at
Stevenson. "Most sociable sentries I ever found," said Dorsey. "They
believed our story, and told us all about Bull Run. It was mighty
interesting to hear their side of it, because we were both in the fight."
But it was Tom who had been most royally entertained. He told them about
Mr. Beecham, and how Marjorie Landis had trapped him.
"But what did you do?" demanded Dorsey. "How did you get out of it?"
"She wished me luck when I left," said Tom. "She was a Northern girl."
The others whistled. "Whew!" said Brown. "That's about enough luck to last
you for a year."
They talked until midnight; then divided the bedding between them and lay
down to sleep. It seemed to Tom that sleep would never come. The plan of
the raid went racing through his mind again and again; he could see every
move as Andrews had described it. His thoughts carried him back to the
other side of the lines. What was Bert doing? He supposed that Bert had
been left behind when Mitchel advanced. His parents in Cleveland? What
would they think if they were told that he was a hundred miles behind the
Confederate picket lines? What a story to tell them when he returned! And
Marjorie Landis? Would she realize, when the news of the raid swept over
the country, that he had taken part in it? She was a plucky girl!
The next thing he knew was that there was a terrific pounding in some
remote part of the world. He sat up in the darkness and tried to recall
himself. Then someone said, "All right--wait a second." The chair which had
been placed against the door was yanked away, and Andrews entered, holding
a lamp.
"Wake up, men," he said. "It's just five. You have an hour."
Brown lighted the lamp on the table; the others climbed stiffly to their
feet, stretching.
"You can get breakfast downstairs," said Andrews. "The proprietor always
has some packages of food prepared for people who are traveling. Stuff your
pockets." He vanished down the corridor.
"That's the hardest floor I've ever slept on," said Brown. The others
muttered in response.
To Tom, the scene was strange and unreal. The yellow light of the lamp and
the faint dawn which was stealing in through the windows made the men seem
ghost-like as they moved about the room, dressing. Huge shadows loomed on
the walls, swaying and disappearing.
"Shall we go together, Brown!" asked Knight.
"You'd better not," said Tom. "Engineers are too valuable. If you go
together you might both be stopped before you could reach the engine."
"The boy's right," replied Brown. "You and I'll go together, eh, Tom?"
"Yep."
"Are you ready?"
"All ready. Come on."
Tom and Brown left the room, found the way along the corridor to the
stairs. "Now for it!" exclaimed Tom, clutching the other's arm.
"You bet!"
Breakfast finished, they left the hotel and went toward the station. Tom
looked anxiously at the sky, and saw that the clouds were broken. They had
a chance, at least, of good weather for the raid. At the station they
bought tickets for Kingston. There were about thirty people moving
restlessly about in the dark, waiting for the train. Tom recognized Andrews
and five of their men. Then the remainder appeared suddenly. Andrews paced
up and down, his head slightly bowed.
The whistle of the train came shrieking through the night. Tom's throat
tightened and his heart thumped. Presently they could hear the engine, and
see the sparks above the trees. Then the train came sweeping down the track
towards them, the wheels rumbling and the brakes whining. The engine, with
its name, _General_, painted upon the side of the cab, passed them.
Tom's eyes followed the engine. He saw the engineer in the light of the
flames from the firebox; the fireman was in the act of sliding fresh logs
upon the flames.
Several passengers stepped from the train. Andrews boarded the second
coach, and the men followed him, distributing themselves through the car.
Ahead of them were four freight cars and another coach. Brown and Tom found
a seat not far from Andrews; Wilson and Knight settled themselves across
the aisle. Tom glanced back and saw the others scattered through the car.
His eyes met Shadrack's and, mindful of Andrews' warning, he turned away
before he laughed outright. Shadrack's expression was comical: his eyes
were wide and he was gazing about him apprehensively, yet still with that
twinkle of amusement.
"'Board--'board," cried the conductor.
Tom could hear the rapid puffing of the engine as the wheels slipped on the
wet rails; then the puffing became more laborious. There was a rattle of
loose couplings, and the train jerked forward. It was lighter now. To the
west, the Kennesaw Mountains made a splotch of black against the dark blue
sky, and the houses and woods along the track were visible in the half
light.
The train gathered speed, then settled down to a steady pace. The smoke
from the engine drifted back to them. The forward door of the car opened
and the conductor entered. He stood for a moment looking down the length of
the car, then commenced to take tickets, scrutinizing each passenger
closely. The conductor was a young man--about twenty-six--and the men of
Andrews' party found his gaze disturbing. Tom met his eyes, and wondered if
he knew anything of their purpose, suspected anything.
"I don't like the looks of that conductor," he whispered to Brown.
"Probably wondering why so many people got aboard at Marietta."
Andrews arose, as though to stretch, but Tom could see that he was watching
the conductor. At last they heard the rear door of the car slam. The
conductor had not stopped to ask questions, regardless of what he
suspected.
"Big Shanty! Big Shanty! Twenty minutes for breakfast." It was like a bugle
call to Andrews' men. Their eyes were turned toward him. He sat as though
he were sleeping. The other passengers stirred in their seats, making ready
to race to the restaurant.
The speed of the train slackened, and the train glided into the town.
Bordering the tracks on the west was an encampment of Confederate soldiers.
Rows of white tents stretched down the slope towards a thick woods. On the
east were the houses of Big Shanty. The train stopped opposite a long shed,
before which a man stood ringing a bell. There was no need to call the
passengers to breakfast; they tumbled off the train and ran to get places
at the counter. And at the head of the crowd was the conductor. The
engineer and fireman brought up the rear, wiping their hands on pieces of
waste. Except for three passengers who were sleeping, Andrews' men had the
car to themselves.
It was several minutes before Andrews showed any signs of stirring. Then he
arose and walked to the rear of the car.
"Not yet," he said, as he passed Tom. Presently they saw him strolling
beside the train. Then he boarded the front platform, opened the door and
nodded. They got up and went out.
"Ross, you come with me," said Andrews. "Brown, Knight, and Burns follow.
The rest go up the other side of the engine."
Andrews and Boss walked slowly towards the engine.
"Uncouple here, Ross," ordered Andrews. "Then cross over and get aboard
with the rest." His tone was calm and untroubled.
Tom saw Ross pull the coupling pin, and duck under the train. He glanced
back to the shed where the train crew was at breakfast. There was no sign
of alarm.
They approached the engine as indifferently as though they were walking for
exercise.
"Wait here," said Andrews when they were beside the engine cab. He went
forward, crossed in front of the train and looked back on the other side to
see if the men were aboard. Then he came sauntering back.
"Get aboard!" he snapped. "Knight at the throttle."
Knight mounted first; then Brown, with Tom and Andrews following. Knight
jumped to the engineer's seat, and grabbed the throttle. There came the
hissing of steam: the engine trembled and puffed. Brown lunged for the sand
lever, yanked it open. The wheels spun on the track, then grabbed it, and
the engine sprang forward like a beast unchained.