ON AN EXPEDITION WITH ROSENBAUM THEY MAKE A CAPTURE.
MR. ROSENBAUM'S stories of adventure were not such as to captivate the
boys with the career of a spy. But the long stay in camp was getting
very tedious, and they longed for something to break the monotony of
camp guard and work on the interminable fortifications. Therefore, when
Mr. Rosenbaum came over one morning with a proposition to take them
out on an expedition, he found them ready to go. He went to Regimental
Headquarters, secured a detail for them, and, returning to the Hoosier's
Rest, found the boys lugubriously pulling over a pile of homespun
garments they had picked up among the teamsters and campfollowers.
"I suppose we've got to wear 'em, Shorty," said Si, looking very
disdainfully at a butternut-colored coat and vest. "But I'd heap rather
wear a mustard plaster. I'd be a heap comfortabler."
"I ain't myself finicky about clothes," answered Shorty. "I ain't no
swell--never was. But somehow I've got a prejudice in favor of blue as a
color, and agin gray and brown. I only like gray and brown on a corpse.
They make purty grave clothes. I always like to bury a man what has
butternut clothes on."{69}
"What are you doing with them dirty rags, boys?" asked Rosenbaum, in
astonishment, as he surveyed the scene.
"Why, we've got to wear 'em, haven't we, if we go out with you?" asked
Si.
"You wear them when you go out with me--you disguise yourselves," said
Rosenbaum, with fine scorn. "You'd play the devil in disguise. You can't
disguise your tongues. That's the worst. Anybody'd catch on to that
Indianny lingo first thing. You've got to speak like an educated
man--speak like I do--to keep people from finding out where you're from.
I speak correct English always. Nobody can tell where I'm from."
The boys had hard work controlling their risibles over Mr. Rosenbaum's
self-complacency.
"What clothes are we to wear, then?" asked Si, much puzzled.
"Wear what you please; wear the clothes you have on, or anything else.
This is not to be a full-dress affair. Gentlemen can attend in their
working clothes if they want to."
"I don't understand," mumbled Si.
"Of course, you don't," said Rosenbaum gaily. "If you did, you would know
as much as I do, unt I wouldn't have no advantage."
"All right," said Shorty. "We've decided to go it blind. Go ahead. Fix
it up to suit yourself. We are your huckleberries for anything that you
kin turn up. It all goes in our $13 a month."
"O. K.," answered Rosenbaum. "That's the right way. Trust me, unt I will
bring you out all straight. Now, let me tell you something. When you{70}
captured me, after a hard struggle, as you remember (and he gave as much
of a wink as his prominent Jewish nose would admit), I was an officer
on General Roddey's staff. It was, unt still is, my business to keep up
express lines by which the rebels are supplied with quinine, medicines,
gun-caps, letters, giving information, unt other things. Unt I do it."
The boys opened their eyes wide, and could not restrain an exclamation
of surprise.
"Now, hold your horses; don't get excited," said Rosenbaum calmly. "You
don't know as much about war as I do--not by a hundred per cent. These
things are always done in every war, unt General Rosecrans understands
the tricks of war better as any man in the army. He beats them all when
it comes to getting information about the enemy. He knows that a dog
that fetches must carry, unt that the best way is to let a spy take a
little to the enemy, unt bring a good deal back.
"The trouble at the battle of Stone River was that the spies took more
to General Bragg than they brought to General Rosecrans. But General
Rosecrans was new to the work then. It won't be so in future. He knows a
great deal more about the rebels now than they know about him, thanks to
such men as me."
"I don't know as we ought to have anything to do with this, Shorty,"
said Si dubiously. "At least, we ought to inquire of the Colonel first."
"That's all right--that's all right," said Rosenbaum quickly. "I've got
the order from the Colonel which will satisfy you. Read it yourself."
He handed the order to Si, who looked carefully{71} at the printed
heading, "Headquarters, 200th Ind., near Murfreesboro', Tenn.," and then
read the order aloud to Shorty: "Corporal Josiah Klegg and one private,
whom he may select, will report to Mr. Levi Rosenbaum for special duty,
and will obey such orders and instructions as he may give, and on return
report to these Headquarters. By order of the Colonel. Philip Blake,
Adjutant."
"That seems all straight. Shorty," said Si, folding up the order, and
putting it in his pocket.
"Straight as a string," assented Shorty. "I'm ready, anyway. Go ahead,
Mr. Cheap Clothing. I don't care much what it is, so long's it ain't
shovelin' and diggin' on the fortifications. I'll go down to Tullahoma
and pull old Bragg out of his tent rather than handle a pick and shovel
any longer."
"Well, as I was going to tell you, I have been back to Tullahoma several
times since you captured me, unt I have got the express lines between
here unt there running pretty well. I have to tell them all sorts of
stories how I got away from the Yankees. Luckily, I have a pretty good
imagination, unt can furnish them with first-class narratives.
"But there is one feller on the staff that I'm afraid of. His name is
Poke Bolivar, unt he is a terrible feller, I tell you. Always full of
fight, unt desperate when he gets into a fight. I've seen him bluff all
those other fellers. He is a red-hot Secessionist, unt wants to kill
every Yankee in the country. Of late he has seemed very suspicious of
me, unt has said lots of things that scared me. I want to settle him,
either kill him or take him prisoner, unt keep him away, so's I can feel
greater ease when I'm in{72} General Bragg's camp. I can't do that so
long as I know he's around, for I feel that his eyes are on me, unt that
he's hunting some way to trip me up.
"I'm going out now to meet him, at a house about five miles from the
lines. I have my pockets unt the pockets on my saddles full of letters
unt things. Just outside the lines I will get some more. He will meet me
unt we will go back to Tullahoma together--that is, if he don't kill me
before we get there. I have brought a couple of revolvers, in addition
to your guns, for Poke Bolivar's a terrible feller to fight, unt I want
you to make sure of him. I'd take more'n two men out, but I'm afraid
he'd get on to so many.
"I guess we two kin handle him," said Shorty, slipping his belt into
the holster of the revolver and buckling it on. "Give us a fair show at
him, and we don't want no help. I wouldn't mind having it out with Mr.
Bolivar all by myself."
"Well, my plan is for you to go out by yourselves to that place where
you were on picket. Then take the right-hand road through the creek
bottom, as if you were going foraging. About two miles from the creek
you will see a big hewed-log house standing on the left of the road. You
will know it by its having brick outside chimneys, unt de doors painted
blue unt yaller. There's no other house in that country like it.
"You're to keep out of sight as much as you can. Directly you will see
me come riding out, follered by a nigger riding another horse. I will go
up to the house, jump off, tie my horse, go inside, unt presently come
out unt tie a white cloth to{73} a post on the porch. That will be a
signal to Poke Bolivar, who will be watching from the hill a mile ahead.
You will see him come in, get off his horse, unt go into the house.
"By this time it will be dark, or nearly so. You slip up as quietly as
you can, right by the house, hiding yourselves behind the lilacs. If the
dogs run at you bayonet them. You can look through the windows, unt see
me unt Bolivar sitting by the fire talking, unt getting ready to start
for Tullahoma as soon as the nigger who is cooking our supper in the
kitchen outside gets it ready unt we eat it. You can wait till you see
us sit down to eat supper, unt then jump us. Better wait until we are
pretty near through supper, for I'll be very hungry, unt want all I can
get to keep me up for my long ride.
"You run in unt order us to surrender. I'll jump up unt blaze away with
my revolver, but you needn't pay much attention to me--only be careful
not to shoot me. While you are 'tending to Bolivar I'll get on my horse
unt skip out. You can kill Bolivar, or take him back to camp with
you, or do anything that you please, so long's you keep him away from
Tullahoma. You understand, now?"
"Perfectly," said Shorty. "I think we can manage it, and it looks like
a pretty good arrangement. You are to git away, and we're to git Mr.
Bolivar. Those two things are settled. Any change in the evening's
program will depend on Mr. Bolivar. If he wants a fight he kin git whole
gobs of it."
Going over the plan again, to make sure that the boys understood it,
and cautioning them once more as to the sanguinary character of Polk
Bolivar,{74} Mr. Rosenbaum started for his horse. He had gone but a
little ways when he came back with his face full of concern.
"I like you boys better than I can tell you," he said, taking their
hands affectionately, "unt I never would forgive myself if you got
hurt. Do you think that two of you'll be able to manage Poke Bolivar?
If you're not sure I'll get another man to help you. I think that I had
better, anyway."
"O, go along with you," said Shorty scornfully. "Don't worry about us
and Mr. Bolivar. I'd stack Si Klegg up against any man that ever wore
gray, in any sort of a scrimmage he could put up, and I'm a better man
than Si. You just favor us with a meeting with Mr. Bolivar, and then git
out o' the way. If it wasn't for dividing up fair with my partner here
I'd go out by myself and tackle Mr. Bolivar. You carry out your share of
the plan, and don't worry about us."
Rosenbaum's countenance brightened, and he hastened to mount and away.
The boys shouldered their guns and started out for the long walk. They
followed Rosenbaum's directions carefully, and arrived in sight of the
house, which they recognized at once, and got into a position from which
they could watch its front. Presently they saw Rosenbaum come riding
along the road and stop in front of the house. He tied his horse to
a scraggy locust tree, went in, and then reappeared and fastened the
signal to a post supporting the roof of the porch.
[Illustration: WATCHING THE HOUSE. 75]
They had not long to wait for the answer. Soon a horseman was seen
descending from the distant hill. As he came near he was anxiously
scanned,{75} and appeared a cavalier so redoubtable as to fully justify
Rosenbaum's apprehensions. He was a tall, strongly-built young man, who
sat on his spirited horse with easy and complete mastery of him. Even at
that distance it could be seen that he was heavily armed.
"Looks like a genuine fighter, and no mistake," said Si, examining the
caps on his revolver. "He'll be a stiff one to tackle."{76}
"We must be very careful not to let him get the drop on us," said
Shorty. "He looks quicker'n lightnin', and I've no doubt that he kin
shoot like Dan'l Boone. We might drop him from here with our guns," he
added suggestively.
"No," said Si, "that wouldn't be fair. And it wouldn't be the way
Rosenbaum wants it done. He's got his reasons for the other way.
Besides, I'd be a great deal better satisfied in my mind, if I could
have it out with him, hand-to-hand. It'd sound so much better in the
regiment."
"Guess that's so," assented Shorty. "Well, let's sneak up to the house."
When they got close to the house they saw that it had been deserted;
there were no dogs or other domestic animals about, and this allowed
them to get under the shade of the lilacs without discovery. The only
inmates were Rosenbaum and Bolivar, who were seated before a fire, which
Rosenbaum had built in the big fireplace in the main room. The negro was
busy cooking supper in the outbuilding which served as a kitchen. The
glass was broken out the window, and they could hear the conversation
between Rosenbaum and Bolivar.
It appeared that Rosenbaum had been making a report of his recent
doings, to which Bolivar listened with a touch of disdain mingled with
suspicion.
The negro brought in the supper, and the men ate it sitting by the fire.
[Introduction: BOLIVAR AND ROSENBAUM 77]
"I declare," said Bolivar, stopping with a piece of bread and meat in
one hand and a tin-cup of coffee in the other, "that for a man who is
devoted to the{77} South you can mix up with these Yankees with less
danger to yourself and to them than any man I ever knew. You never
get hurt, and you never hurt any of them. That's a queer thing for a
soldier. War means hurting people, and getting hurt yourself. It
means taking every chance to hurt some of the enemy. I never miss any
opportunity of killing a Yankee, no matter what I may be doing, or what
the risk is to me. I can't help myself. Whenever I see a Yankee in
range I let him have it. I never go near their lines without killing at
least{78} one."
Shorty's thumb played a little with his gunlock, but Si restrained him
with a look.
"Well," said Rosenbaum, "I hates the enemy as badly as any one can, but
I always have business more important at the time than killing men. I
want to get through with what I have to do, unt let other men do the
killing. There's enough gentlemen like you for that work."
"No, there's not enough," said Bolivar savagely. "It's treasonable for
you to say so. Our enemies outnumber us everywhere. It is the duty of
every true Southern man to kill them off at every chance, like he would
rattlesnakes and wolves. You are either not true to the South, or you
hain't the right kind of grit. Why, you have told me yourself that
you let two Yankees capture you, without firing a shot. Think of it; a
Confederate officer captured by two Yankee privates, without firing a
shot."
"They had the dead drop on me," murmured Rosenbaum. "If I had moved
they'd killed me sure."
"Dead drop on you!" repeated Bolivar scornfully. "Two men with muskets
have the dead drop on you! And you had a carbine and a revolver. Why,
I have ridden into a nest of 10 or 15 Yankees, who had me covered with
their guns. I killed three of them, wounded three others, and run the
rest away with my empty revolver. If I'd had another revolver, not one
would've got away alive. I always carry two revolvers now."
"I think our guns'll be in the way in that room," said Shorty, sotting
his down. His face bore a look of stern determination. "They're too
long. I'm itching to have it out with that feller hand-to-hand.{79}
We'll rush in. You pretend to be goin' for Rosenbaum and leave me to
have it out with Mr. Bolivar. Don't you mix in at all. If I don't settle
him he ought to be allowed to go."
"No," said Si decisively. "I'm your superior officer, and it's my
privilege to have the first shy at him. I'll 'tend to him. I want a
chance singlehanded at a man that talks that way. You take care of
Rosenbaum."
"We mustn't dispute," said Shorty, stooping down and picking up a couple
of straws. "Here, pull. The feller that gits the longest 'tends to
Bolivar; the other to Rosenbaum."
Si drew and left the longer straw in Shorty's hand. They drew their
revolvers and rushed for the room, Shorty leading, Rosenbaum and Bolivar
sprang up in alarm at the sound of their feet on the steps, and drew
their revolvers.
"Surrender, you infernal rebels," shouted the boys, as they bolted
through the door.
With the quickness of a cat, Rosenbaum had sidled near the door through
which they had come. Suddenly he fired two shots into the ceiling, and
sprang through the door so quickly that Si had merely the chance to fire
a carefully-aimed shot through the top of his hat. Si jumped toward the
door again, and fired a shot in the air, for still further make-believe.
He would waste no more, but reserve the other four for Bolivar, if he
should need them.
Shorty confronted Bolivar with fierce eyes and leveled revolver, eagerly
watching every movement and expression. The rebel was holding his pistol
pointed upward, and his eyes looked savage. As his eyes met Shorty's the
latter was amazed to see him close the left with a most emphatic wink.
Seeing this was recognized, the rebel fired two shots into the ceiling,
and motioned with his left hand to Si to continue firing. Without quite
understanding. Si fired again. The rebel gave a terrific yell and fired
a couple of shots out the window.
"Do the same," he said to Shorty, who complied, as Si had done, in
half-comprehension. The rebel handed his revolver to Shorty, stepped to
the window and listened.
[Illustration: THE SURPRISE 79]
There came the sounds of two horses galloping away on the hard, rocky
road.
"He's gone, and taken the nigger with him," he said contentedly, turning
from the window, and giving another fierce yell. "Better fire the other
two shots out of that pistol, to hurry him along."
Shorty fired the remaining shots out of the rebel's revolver.
"What regiment do you belong to, boys?" asked Bolivar calmly.
"The 200th Ind.," answered Si, without being able to control his
surprise.
"A very good regiment," said the rebel. "What's your company?"
"Co. Q," answered Si.
"Who's your Colonel?"
"Col. Duckworth."
"Who's your Captain?"
"Capt. McGillicuddy."
"All right," said the rebel, with an air of satisfaction. "I asked
those questions to make sure you were genuine Yankees. One can't be too
careful in my business. I'm in the United States Secret Service, and
have to be constantly on the watch to keep it from being played on me by
men pretending to be Yankees when they are rebels, and rebels when they
are Yankees. I always make it the first point to ask them the names
of their officers. I know almost all the officers in command on both
sides."
"You in the Secret Service?" exploded the boys.{82}
They were on the point of adding "too," but something whispered to them
not to betray Rosenbaum.
"Yes," answered Bolivar. "I've just come from Tullahoma, where I've been
around Bragg's Headquarters. I wanted to get inside our lines, but I was
puzzled how to do it. That Jew you've just run off bothered me. I wish
to the Lord you'd killed him. I'm more afraid of him than any other man
in Bragg's army. He's smart as a briar, always nosing around where
you don't want him, and anxious to do something to commend him to
Headquarters, Jew like. I've thought he suspected me, for he'd been
paying special attention to me for some weeks. Two or three times I've
been on the point of tailing him into the woods somewhere and killing
him, and so get rid of him. It's all right now. He'll go back to
Tullahoma with a fearful story of the fight I made against you, and that
I am probably killed. I'll turn up there in a week or two with my own
story, and I'll give him fits for having skipped out and left me to
fight you two alone. Say, it's a good ways to camp. Let's start at once,
for I want to get to Headquarters as soon as possible."
"You've got another revolver there," said Si, who had prudently reloaded
his own weapon.
"That's so," said Bolivar, pulling it out. "You can take and carry it or
I'll take the cylinder out, if you are not convinced about me."
"You'd better let me carry it," said Shorty, shoving the revolver in
his own belt. "These are queer times, and one can't be too careful with
rebels who{83} claim to be Yankees, and Yankees who claim to be rebels."
They trudged back to camp, taking turns riding the horse. When the rebel
rode, however, one of the boys walked alongside with the bridle in his
hand. All doubts as to Bolivar's story were dispelled by his instant
recognition by the Provost-Marshal, who happened to be at the
picket-post when they reached camp.
"The longer I live," remarked Shorty, as they made their way along to
the Hoosier's Rest, "and I seem to live a little longer every day, the
less I seem to understand about this war."
Shorty spoke as if he had had an extensive acquaintance with wars.
"The only thing that I've come to be certain about," assented Si, "is
that you sometimes most always can't generally tell."
And they proceeded to get themselves some supper, accompanying the
work of denunciations of the Commissary for the kind of rations he was
drawing for the regiment, and of the Orderly-Sergeant for his letting
the other Orderlies eucher him out of the company's fair share.