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THE YOUNG SHARPSHOOTER AT ANTIETAM

by

EVERETT T. TOMLINSON







Boston and New York
Houghton Mifflin Company
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1914

Copyright, 1914, by Everett T. Tomlinson
All Rights Reserved

Published September 1914




[Illustration: THEY WERE FALLING BY SCORES]




PREFACE


This story has been written with no desire to revive or even to keep
alive the spirit of the struggle between the States.

Nevertheless the facts which have made our history and the forces which
have entered into the making of the life of our country ought not to be
ignored or forgotten. The effect of the conflict was too great for that.
The Civil War is now far enough away to enable us to see the heroic,
dramatic, and even romantic elements that composed it; and all these,
too, free from the bitterness which naturally was characteristic of the
times.

To-day each side understands the other better, and with a more complete
knowledge is able to see more clearly the sterling qualities of both
contestants.

The appreciation of the importance of Lee's first attempt to invade the
North is necessary if one is to understand the struggle which followed.
The dash, spirit, and skill of the great Southern leader, as well as the
energy and the daring of his lieutenants, are seen to-day more clearly
than in the times when his effort was made. What the consequence would
have been if General Lee had succeeded, all can appreciate. The battle
of Antietam was almost a pivot of the great Civil War.

That my young readers may gain a more complete knowledge of the daring
advance of the great Southern general and the result which followed when
his army was turned back into Virginia, I have written this story. My
hope is that it will lead to a careful study of the conflict, and that
boys, North and South alike, may be led into an increased knowledge of
and interest in our common country.

EVERETT T. TOMLINSON.

ELIZABETH, NEW JERSEY.




CONTENTS


        I. THE IRISHMAN AND HIS PIG                        1

       II. THE SUTLER'S GOODS                             13

      III. INTERCEPTED                                    27

       IV. THE V IN THE FENCE                             38

        V. THE PLAN OF GENERAL LEE                        47

       VI. LONG JOHN                                      54

      VII. CAUGHT                                         63

     VIII. UNDER GUARD                                    72

       IX. THE PLOT                                       83

        X. INTO THE STORM                                 93

       XI. NICK                                          102

      XII. THE GIANT                                     113

     XIII. FRIENDS OF THE UNION                          124

      XIV. THE SUTLER AS A GUIDE                         135

       XV. WARLIKE BEES                                  146

      XVI. A HELPER                                      154

     XVII. THE GUEST ROOM                                166

    XVIII. THE FIRE                                      177

      XIX. AT THE FORK                                   188

       XX. THE STACK OF STRAW                            198

      XXI. THE CARPET-BAG                                207

     XXII. A MYSTERY                                     217

    XXIII. THE GUARD-HOUSE                               227

     XXIV. A FRUITLESS INTERVIEW                         236

      XXV. THE EXECUTION                                 248

     XXVI. THE TEST                                      260

    XXVII. THE SHARPSHOOTERS                             270

   XXVIII. THE PRESIDENT'S ACTION                        280

     XXIX. THE BATTLE                                    290

      XXX. THE FOLLOWING DAY                             302

     XXXI. ANTIETAM                                      311

    XXXII. CONCLUSION                                    323




ILLUSTRATIONS



THEY WERE FALLING BY SCORES (PAGE 303)               _Frontispiece_

"DEY SAY YO' HAB HAWNS"                                   58

NOEL HEARD THE BULLET AS IT WHISTLED PAST                152

"WHO'S IN THERE?"                                        200


_From drawings by George Avison_




THE YOUNG SHARPSHOOTER AT ANTIETAM




CHAPTER I

THE IRISHMAN AND HIS PIG


"You're too noisy, Dennis."

"What's the harm?" replied Dennis O'Hara as he stopped a moment and
looked all about him. "There are no Johnnies around here."

"You don't know whether there are or not," retorted Noel Curtis sharply,
as he too glanced in either direction along the dusty road over which
the two young soldiers were tramping that September day in 1862. Both
were clad in the uniform of the Union army, and the manner in which they
carried their rifles gave evidence of the fact that both young soldiers
were well known in the army of General McClellan for their skill as
sharpshooters.

"'Tis nothing I'm afraid of now," said Dennis gleefully, as he shifted
from one shoulder to the other the body of a small pig which he had
secured in his foraging expedition with his companions.

The day was one to stir the souls of both young men, who were thoroughly
wearied by the routine of the camp life at Harper's Ferry, where they
had been stationed with about eight thousand other Union soldiers. There
was a haze in the distance that covered the summits of the hills and
even the waters of the near-by stream seemed to be subdued as they
rushed on their way to join the Potomac.

"'Tis a fine day," exclaimed Dennis; and at once he began to sing,--

    "My rations are S.B.,
    Taken from porkers three
      Thousand years old;
    And hard-tack cut and dried
    Long before Noah died,--
    From what wars left aside
      Ne'er can be told."

"What do you mean by 'S.B.'?" laughed Noel.

"Sometimes 'tis said to mean 'salt bacon,' and then again maybe 'tis
'salt beef,' and sometimes we call it 'soaked beans.' Whatever it is I
have had my fill of it. Shure, Noel, me boy, it's you and I that will be
feasting ourselves on some roast pork before to-morrow mornin'."

"Look at those pickaninnies!" exclaimed Noel, as he pointed to a little
hut from which a stream of black-faced urchins appeared, who were
rushing to join their companions in the road and watch the two
approaching Union soldiers.

"Wait 'til I sing them a song, too," exclaimed Dennis; and once more he
began to sing,--

    "Ole massa run, ha! ha!
      De darkies stay, ho! ho!
    It must be now dat de kingdom's comin'
      And de year of Jubilo."

In addition to the crowd of dusky-faced children several older negroes
now joined the group to watch the passing Union soldiers. The boys in
blue were still such a novelty to many of the slaves that their
appearance usually served to summon speedily a band of the admiring
dusky spectators.

Dennis, unfamiliar with the colored people and their ways, had never
ceased to express his dislike of them. Many a time in the camp when the
soldier boys had wanted to have a little sport they would call upon
Dennis to "cuss the niggers," by which term they described Dennis's
oratorical efforts. Standing upon the head of a barrel, or mounting some
box near the quarters of the sutler, with his ready tongue Dennis
promptly poured forth a steady stream of almost meaningless words that
were supposed to be descriptive of his feeling of antipathy toward the
people for whose liberty he was fighting.

In the company of negroes at this time assembled to watch the passing of
the two young soldiers there was one woman, manifestly an old
field-hand, whose size was so immense as to be impressive. The
admiration with which the woman gazed upon Dennis was returned in the
expression of astonishment with which the young Irish soldier stared at
this huge negress.

"Shure, Noel," he exclaimed to his friend in a loud whisper, "'tis not
an ounce liss than four hundred pounds she weighs."

Noel laughed and did not reply as he looked again at the strange woman.
Her cheeks hung down almost to her shoulders, and her immense lower lip,
which appeared to be nearly an inch in thickness, and her hair, which in
appearance was not unlike the tail of a horse after the animal has been
feeding in some field where cockles abound, increased the weird
expression with which she beamed upon the approaching boys.

All of the negroes by this time were becoming more and more excited.
Their eyes seemed almost to protrude from their faces. They soon began
to sing and dance, and mingled with the strange noises were the wild and
weird shouts they occasionally uttered. The huge negress was the wildest
of all.

Neither of the approaching soldiers looked at the spectacle with any
other thought than that of curiosity. To both of them up to the time of
their enlistment a negro had been a rare sight. Since they had entered
the army, of course they naturally had come frequently in contact with
the dusky slaves. And the contrabands also on many occasions had flocked
into the camps, confidently expecting to be sent North by their soldier
friends.

Suddenly the huge negress abruptly started toward the young soldiers.
Swinging her arms as she ran, she swiftly approached the boys, who had
stopped abruptly when they first discovered her action.

"Bress de Lor'! Bress de Lor'! Yo's de ones we's been prayin' fo' dese
fo' yeahs! Lor' bress ye, honey! I lub ye! I lub ye!" she added in her
excitement, as she lunged toward Dennis, who was the particular object
of her attack.

For a moment the startled young Irishman gazed in mingled disgust and
fear at the huge negress, who was rapidly approaching. Then without a
word of explanation Dennis O'Hara, who on the battle-field had been
brave almost beyond the power of description, abruptly turned and fled
from the excited negress. A wild shout from the assemblage followed his
unexpected departure, and even Noel was compelled to laugh when he saw
the huge woman start in swift and awkward pursuit of the fleeing
soldier.

Unwilling to let go his hold upon the pig, which he had secured in his
foraging, Dennis was greatly hampered in his flight. With long strides
the black woman gained rapidly upon him. Once Dennis emitted a loud
whoop of terror or warning, Noel was unable to decide which.

The excitement of the negroes became more marked as it was seen that the
efforts of Dennis to escape were unavailing. Nearer and nearer came the
excited black woman, and in a brief time she flung her great arms about
Dennis, who was helpless to protect himself, as he still was unwilling
to let go his hold upon his prize.

"Lor' bress ye, honey!" shouted the woman as she clasped the unwilling
soldier in her arm. "Bress de Lor'! Bress de Lor'! We hab bin prayin'
fo' yo' dese fo' yeahs! M--m--m--"

Her grasp evidently became more vigorous and her enthusiasm more marked
as the plight of the helpless soldier became more manifest. The watching
negroes, almost hilarious by this time, started toward the place where
the exciting scene was being enacted.

What the outcome might be now began to trouble even Noel, who rapidly
advanced to the side of his friend, and shouted to the approaching
blacks, "Keep back! Keep back!"

The negroes, however, either were too excited or were unwilling at first
to heed the request, and in a screaming, laughing, shouting mob they
still pressed forward.

The negress, as has been said, apparently a field-hand, was possessed of
great physical strength, and it was plain that Dennis was unable to
protect or even release himself as long as he held to the body of the
pig.

As Noel approached, Dennis shouted excitedly to him, "Take the porker,
Noel, me boy! Take me gun, too! Help me out o' this!"

"Bress ye, honey! We hab bin waitin' fo' yeahs fo' yo' to come! We's
been prayin' all de time and when I hear yo' singin' about 'Ole massa
run, ha! ha!' and 'De darkies stay, ho! ho!' den I des know de kingdom
was come shore 'nuff and de yeah of Jubilo was right yere!"

Too angry to respond, Dennis waited until Noel had relieved him of his
gun and the pig, and then with one violent effort freed himself from the
grasp of the excited black woman.

When she made as if she was about to approach him once more and renew
her expression of delight over the coming of the boys in blue, Dennis
suddenly seized the little pig that Noel was holding and swinging it
with all his strength struck the woman with it upon the side of her
face.

The effect of his effort, however, was plainly not more than to cause
the huge mass of flesh to stop a moment, but not to abandon the efforts
in which the negress was engaged. Again Dennis drew back the little pig
and again struck at his tormentor. His second effort, however, like his
first, was unable to check the fervor of the powerful woman. The
remaining negroes now were almost upon the struggling pair. The fear in
Noel's heart that some harm might come to Dennis or to himself became
real.

"Stand back there!" he shouted. "Don't come any nearer!"

At his word the crowd halted and, quickly taking advantage of the
interval, Noel said, "This woman says you have been praying for four
years for us to come."

"Yas, suh! Yas, suh! We shore has! Dis yere is de Jubilo, shore 'nuff!
Shore 'nuff! Ole massa goin' to run, and de darkies goin' to stay!"

"Do you know that song?" inquired Noel.

"We shore does! Yas, suh! Yas, suh! We knows it!"

"Then I want you to stand up by the side of the road and sing it while
we march back to camp."

Laughingly the dusky crowd arranged themselves in lines along the
roadside according to Noel's bidding. Even the huge negress, after some
persuasion, reluctantly took her stand at the head of the line on the
right.

"Now, then, everybody sing!" called Noel, after he had whispered to
Dennis, "Take your gun and pig and start out of this, but don't try to
be in too much of a hurry."

"All right," he called loudly, as he passed the negress. There was a
laughing response and instantly Noel and Dennis, as they quickly
advanced began to sing,--

    "Ole massa run, ha! ha!
      De darkies stay, ho! ho!
    It must be now dat de kingdom's comin'
      And de year ob Jubilo."

Glancing neither to the right nor left the two soldiers steadily moved
forward and in a brief time passed beyond the strange assembly on the
roadside.

"Is she after me, lad?" whispered Dennis loudly, glancing anxiously
behind him.

"I don't think so," replied Noel, "but I shan't look back just yet. I
don't hear anybody coming and they are singing like mad back there yet."

"Just listen to them, will you!" he added as there came from the crowd
an increased volume of sound, which was somewhat indicative of the
excitement that possessed the assembly.

"I guess we 're all right now," Noel said a few minutes later when they
had turned a bend in the road and their admirers no longer were to be
seen.

"Now, Noel, me boy," said Dennis, "I want ye to promise me something."

"What's that?" inquired Noel quizzically, although he was confident that
he understood what the request of his companion was to be.

"I want ye to promise me that ye'll kape what happened here a sacret.
'Tis just between you and me, me boy."

"Oh, but, Dennis," suggested Noel, "think what fun the boys in the camp
will miss if we don't tell them what the black woman did."

"Shure, you won't tell on me!" Dennis pleaded as he stopped a moment and
gazed anxiously at his companion.

"I shall have to think about that," replied Noel mockingly.

The expression of consternation that appeared for a moment on the face
of his companion caused the young soldier to laugh heartily.

"Why don't you tell them about it yourself, Dennis?" he asked abruptly.

"Niver!" replied the young Irish soldier. "'Tis one of the sacrets I
shall niver tell, not aven to me mither. But I want to feel that you
will help me to kape the sacret."

"I'll agree not to tell it to-night," said Noel at last.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to be contint wid that, thin," responded
Dennis. "But let me tell ye wan thing, Noel Curtis. If I find the story
ever does lake out, I shall know where it came from and the fellow that
tells on me will want to go to the surgeon to be put together. Indade
an' he will that!"

"He won't if he gets that black woman here to help him," laughed Noel.
"Now, how are you going to get that pig into the camp? You know what the
colonel said about foraging, and what he told us would happen to the boy
who tried it, after such strict orders had been given against it."

"Shure, and I'll give the colonel a piece o' the rib o' me pig. When he
once swallows that he'll forget all about his orders."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Noel good-naturedly. "But here we are
almost back to camp, and you'll have a chance to try it out in a little
while."




CHAPTER II

THE SUTLER'S GOODS


The appearance of the two soldiers in the camp at once attracted the
attention of their comrades. It had been long since any of them had
tasted fresh meat and the sight of the pig which Dennis still was
carrying upon his shoulders aroused the desire of every beholder to
share in the repast which was to follow. There were many laughing calls
to be invited to the feast, to all of which Dennis responded
good-naturedly, but without in any way committing himself unduly to the
increase of the numbers of those with whom he intended to share the
change in the camp diet.

"Hello, Levi," called Dennis, as he and Noel passed the sutler's tent.

Levi Kadoff, one of the sutlers, who, by some strange methods, had
obtained the privilege of selling the soldiers from his stock which was
displayed in a tent not far from the center of the camp, looked hastily
up as he was greeted. His love for pork was not strong, but apparently
was the only limit to his desires. At exorbitant prices he had been
selling his wares, and he had interfered in so many ways with the camp
life and had been so disagreeable to most of the soldiers that at the
time he was the most detested man in Harper's Ferry. He had used every
artifice in inducing the boys in blue to buy from him, and many of the
sales which he made were called robbery by those who had been persuaded
to buy.

"Vere you haf been?" demanded the sutler, as Dennis and Noel halted in
front of him.

"Been out foraging," answered Dennis loudly. "We have a pig here. If you
will come up to my tent after dark, I'll give you a slice o' spare rib."

The expression of disgust which appeared instantly upon the face of Levi
caused Noel to laugh heartily, but the countenance of Dennis was
unchanged, as he stared at the angry sutler.

"What's the matter, Levi?" he said. "Don't you like pork?"

Again an expression of disgust appeared upon the face of the sutler, but
he made no direct reply to the question.

"How much are you charging for milk this mornin'?" inquired Dennis.

"Twenty-five cents a glass."

"Is that all?" demanded Dennis. "Shure, it was twinty cints when I left
camp, and you have not put it up over five cints since the mornin'! I
thought you would have it up to fifty cints shure by this time. Levi,
have you a bit of a conscience at all left yet?"

"I vas all consciences," replied Levi, spreading out his hands as he
spoke. "I don't think how I shall be able to do business here much
longer. Dese things gets me--"

"Of course you won't do business here much longer," broke in Dennis.
"You won't have to. Before you go, some of the boys will have to come
down and give you a good send-off."

"No! No!" protested Levi excitedly. "They must not do dat. I haf been
der very goot friend. I have made leedle, very leedle money."

"Don't be scared, Levi. We know just how much money you have made. Some
of the boys have been kapin' tabs on you. If we should take whativer you
have here, you would still be rich enough, and the boys would feel that
they were only gittin' even with you for the way you have treated them."

The eyes of the angry sutler snapped, as he turned sharply upon the
young soldier. "If I choose I can reports to der colonel vat you have
been doing."

"What have I been doin'?" demanded Dennis innocently.

"You know dere vas strict orders against foraging. I think now I shall
report to the colonel."

The young soldiers remained no longer at the sutler's tent.

"I believe that fellow will report you to the colonel," Noel said to his
companion.

"To be shure he will. He's likely to do that, and if he does he's likely
to get somethin' more."

The reports were current in the camp that orders had been reissued
against any foraging on the part of any of the men.

Whether or not it was due to the feast which Dennis and Noel prepared
that night when their pig was roasted, or to the monotony of the camp
fare to which the soldiers still irreverently referred as "S. B.," is
not known, but at all events the temptation to find fresh food, and
especially fresh meat, outside the boundaries of the camp proved to be
too strong for many of the boys in blue.

It was not long afterward when Dennis with others was tempted beyond
his power of resistance and again was found among those who were
foraging in the regions adjacent to the camp.

A dozen or more were in the company and, as the soldiers believed,
through the reports of Levi Kadoff, the colonel had been informed of the
escapade. Consequently when the men returned to the camp the angry
colonel, taking a position near the guard, ordered the entrance of the
men singly or in pairs, and then demanded of every one that he should
disclose what he had obtained in this foraging, against the strict
command which had been issued.

Shamefacedly and with many threats against the little sutler, the
returning soldiers showed what they had secured, oftentimes through hard
labor.

Meanwhile the pile upon which the colonel had commanded every soldier to
cast whatever he had obtained grew steadily. Chickens, an occasional
ham, various vegetables, and other articles composed the greater part of
the rapidly increasing heap.

Most of those who had been engaged in the forbidden occupation had
already returned to camp, when Dennis O'Hara at last appeared. This
time, however, Noel Curtis was not with his friend.

As Dennis drew near the guard he discovered the presence of the colonel,
but if he was alarmed by his discovery, his feeling was not betrayed by
any change in the expression of his face. And yet apparently Dennis was
the most guilty of all the men. Inside his coat was something which
caused the garment to protrude in such a manner as to reveal, and yet at
the same time to conceal, whatever Dennis had secured.

Demurely the young Irish soldier approached the waiting colonel and, as
the officer sharply ordered him to halt, Dennis and a few watching
soldiers were aware that the colonel's patience was entirely exhausted.
He was not only angry that his commands had been disobeyed, but
manifestly the indifference of the young soldier increased his feeling
of irritation.

"What have you inside your coat?" demanded the irate colonel.

"Yis, sor! Yis, sor!" retorted Dennis, saluting as he spoke.

"What have you inside your coat?" repeated the angry officer.

"Nothin' of any value, sor."

"I don't believe what you say! A man who will disobey orders will lie
about his disobedience! Unbutton your coat, sir, and show me what you
have!"

"Indade, sor," protested Dennis, "'tis nothin' I have which will
interest the likes of you, Colonel Rathbun. 'Tis nothin' of any value
at all I have."

"Unbutton your coat, sir, and throw what you have stolen on to this
pile, where the rest of your thievish comrades have placed what they
stole!"

"Indade, sor," protested Dennis once more, "'tis nothin' of any value. I
didn't rob anybody, sor! I--"

"Do as I tell you!" demanded the angry colonel, "or I will order you to
be taken to the guard-house!"

"Yis, sor! Yis, sor!" responded Dennis promptly, as he began to fumble
at the buttons of his jacket.

The garment, however, had been drawn so tightly about him to cover the
object he was trying to conceal that it was with great apparent
difficulty he obeyed.

Watching the awkward attempts of the young Irish soldier to comply with
the demand of the colonel, many of the men of the regiment were
crowding about the place. Curiosity as to the prize which Dennis had
secured and suspicion that his sober face belied the feeling in his
heart, and the general knowledge that Dennis O'Hara was one of the worst
practical jokers in the camp, combined with other motives that steadily
increased the number of the spectators.

After several attempts Dennis succeeded in unbuttoning the upper buttons
of his jacket, and then again he paused and facing the colonel said,
"'Tis nothin' that will interest you, Colonel. I haven't taken anything
of value--"

"Not another word from you, sir!" shouted the angry officer. "Do as I
tell you! Unbutton your coat and show what you have stolen and throw it
on the heap where the other things are piled!"

"Yis, sor! Yis, sor!" said Dennis, speaking almost sadly, as he resumed
his occupation and in a brief time succeeded in unbuttoning his jacket.

As he did so a small block of wood fell to the ground. For a moment the
men stared blankly at Dennis's "prize" and then broke into loud and
prolonged laughter.

The colonel's face flushed slowly when he discovered the true
possession of the young Irishman, and then in a good-natured way he
struck the block of wood with his sword and turning to his men said,
"Sold! I have been sold, and shall have to own up to it. You young
rascal," he said, once more addressing Dennis, "I have half a mind to
send you to the guard-house on general principles. You had no business
to play such pranks as that."

"But, Colonel," protested Dennis demurely, "I didn't want to play it. I
did my best not to, but you ordered me to, so you see I had to. I was
just bringing in a present."

"A present?" demanded the colonel, as the men laughed again. "A present?
To whom were you going to give that block of wood?"

"Shure I was going to give it to the sutler," replied Dennis. "I had an
idea that it would match his head."

The boys dispersed, pleased that the colonel had been so lenient with
them and that their only punishment had been the loss of the articles
which they had secured in their expedition.

When the two young soldiers were again in their tent, Dennis said to
Noel, "That little sutler, Levi, is to blame for all this trouble. He
thought the boys would be after buyin' not so much of him. He's the
first of all the men who put us on hard tack that was 'cut and dried
long before Noah died.'" And Dennis began to sing noisily,--

    "My rations are S.B.,
    Taken from porkers three
      Thousand years old;
    And hard-tack cut and dried
    Long before Noah died,--
    From what wars left aside
      Ne'er can be told."

"I'm afraid the colonel won't be so easy next time," suggested Noel.

"Don't you worry about that," said Dennis. "The next time there won't be
any Levi to carry tales to him. I have got it all fixed up in me mind.
We're going to make Levi a good soldier."

"You can't do that," laughed Noel, "unless you begin at his feet."

"That's where we propose to begin."

"What are you going to do?"

"Noel, me boy," whispered Dennis, "I can't tell you all the details, but
we're goin' to have a sham fight here between the Forty-sixth and the
Fifty-first, and I shouldn't be one bit surprised if Levi Kadoff's
supplies were somewhere near the middle of the battle-ground."

Noel laughed and thought no more concerning the statement of his comrade
until the following day when to his surprise he discovered that there
was, indeed, to be a sham battle between some of the men of the two
regiments to which Dennis had referred.

An interested spectator he watched the two regiments when they formed in
line near the tent of the sutler, Levi Kadoff. Nor was he the only
spectator, for near by were assembled many of the men, all apparently
aware that something of unusual interest was about to occur.

At last, when everything was in readiness, the Forty-sixth charged their
opponents and with little effort drove them back. The Fifty-first,
however, rallied, and then began to press their foes back to their
former position. In the midst of all the efforts there was wild
excitement and loud cheers among the spectators, whose numbers increased
with every passing moment.

When the Fifty-first re-formed, it was directly in front of Levi's tent
of supplies. A few minutes later, the bugle sounded and the Forty-sixth
charged again.

Down came the laughing boys like a whirlwind, every one yelling as
loudly as his lungs enabled him.

Apparently the sight of the charge of the noisy soldiers brought dismay
to the hearts of the re-formed regiment, and before a word had been
spoken they began to fall back. The applause and laughter among the
spectators increased as the howling, laughing mass of soldiers ran
swiftly forward driving their "enemies" before them.

Unfortunately for the sutler, his tent and supplies were directly in the
way of the retreating Fifty-first. No one afterward could explain how it
had been done, but the ropes of Levi's tent somehow were cut, and in a
trice the stock of the little sutler was scattered over what seemed to
be a half-acre of ground. There were few of the soldiers who did not
have some articles in their hands. The battle itself seemed to have been
forgotten, and in a brief time all the goods had disappeared, either
into haversacks or into secret pockets of the thoughtless soldiers.

Levi, almost like a madman, was fighting to save his property. At one
time he seized a cheese-knife and with it strove desperately to strike
some of the boys. He was quickly disarmed, however, and as he was pushed
from one to another he not only found no place upon which his feet could
secure a resting-place, but no other weapon came within his grasp. At
last, when he was released by the howling mass of soldiers, he was at
least five hundred yards from the place where his ruined store had been
located.

It was manifest now that every soldier understood the purpose of the
sham battle. The very location had been selected with the thought to
bring dire troubles upon the unpopular sutler, who so often had taken
advantage of the boys in their purchases of his supplies.

By this time, however, orders had come from headquarters which speedily
dispersed the disorderly mob, and in a brief time the camp resumed its
former appearance, save for the loss of the sutler's stores and tent.

It was at this time that Noel unexpectedly came upon the little sutler.
The man was almost beside himself with anger and grief.

"I vill haf the law on them!" he shouted. "They shall be shot, efery
one! I vill haf mine goots vonce more!"

Not untouched by the suffering of the man, Noel said to him, "I don't
think the boys meant anything very bad. They thought you had been
charging them too much for what they have been buying."

"I haf not! It vas cheap! It vas all cheap! But I vill tell you. Dat
fellow Dennis O'Hara, he it is who has made all dese troubles. I vill
gif him no rest. He shall pay me back efery cent vat I haf lost. I shall
gif him no rest."

Noel laughed lightly as he turned away, not for a moment taking the
threats of the angry man seriously, and if he had been told at the time
that the very lives of himself and his companions would depend upon a
word of the little trader, he would not have believed the prophecy.




CHAPTER III

INTERCEPTED


In spite of the strict orders which had been issued for preventing
foraging, either the memory of the feast for which the pig that Dennis
had secured had provided the main course, or the restlessness due to the
monotony of camp life, caused the practice to be renewed by some of the
more restless spirits. Among these was Dennis O'Hara.

A few days afterward Dennis said to Noel, "Come on, lad, we'll take a
walk over these hills."

"What for?" inquired Noel suspiciously.

"Shure, and 'tis to see the scenery."

"I want the walk," said Noel promptly, "and if you'll promise to behave
yourself and not get either of us into trouble with any of your pranks,
I'll go with you."

Accordingly, early in the afternoon leave was obtained and the two young
soldiers departed from the camp at Harper's Ferry.

As yet they had no fear of an immediate approach of the Confederates. It
was well known that General Lee, after his success in preventing
General McClellan and his great army from advancing up the Peninsula to
take Richmond, and his success in the second battle of Bull Run, or
Manassas, had decided to cross the Potomac into Maryland. General Pope
had been relieved of his command and General McClellan had been
reinstated as the leader of the Northern armies.

The action of General Lee in deciding to invade the North produced a
consternation that was followed almost by a panic. There were
expectations that if he was successful he might not only take
Washington, the capital of the nation, but also that he might move
against Philadelphia and other Northern cities.

The soldiers of the Southern army were following Lee with a devotion and
enthusiasm that at the time were without a parallel in the armies of the
North. General McClellan doubtless was a more able engineer than General
Lee, but his lack of prompt decision and quick action was known to his
opponent, for both were graduates of West Point. Either his knowledge of
the lack of decision on the part of General McClellan, or his desire for
the armies of the North to withdraw from the vicinity of Richmond,
because its defenders might not be able to withstand a well-directed and
concerted attack, or both reasons, may have influenced him in his
daring, not to say dangerous, attempt.

It was not until later in the war that a man was developed who commanded
the confidence of the North and the enthusiastic loyalty of the Northern
troops.

At this time, in 1862, there were divisions and jealousies among the men
and almost a total lack of preparation among the bodies of troops.

With McClellan in command again there was a prompter action on his part
than had been manifest throughout his Peninsula campaign. It was a
critical time for his army and himself, and a time of peril for the
cities of the North not far from the border.

Early in the preceding spring Noel and Frank Curtis, twin brothers,
whose home had been on the shores of the far-away St. Lawrence, had
enlisted, and had been assigned to the army of McClellan. Since they had
been little fellows they had been familiar with the use of the rifle and
had acquired such skill that both, soon after they had joined the army,
were assigned to the sharpshooters.

In the battle of Malvern Hill, Noel had been wounded and sent home for a
time. His brother Frank also had been home on a furlough. At the
beginning of the fall campaign, Noel, now having recovered from his
wound, and Frank were both ordered to rejoin the army.

For some reason, which Noel did not fully understand, his brother had
been assigned to a different corps, while he, together with eight
thousand of his comrades, had been assigned to the holding of Harper's
Ferry. Another small division had been stationed at Martinsburg and at
Winchester.

It was not known among these garrisons that General Lee had expected,
upon his advance into Maryland, that these troops would quickly be
withdrawn. It is now understood that General McClellan had written
General Halleck to recall these men and attach them to the Army of the
Potomac; but Halleck had decided to retain the garrisons in the Valley,
and his decision has been sharply criticized on the ground that he
violated every principle of sound strategy.

Among the friends that Frank and Noel had made there was young Dennis
O'Hara, a bright, happy young Irishman, about twenty years of age, just
two years older than the twin brothers.

The friendship had been strengthened and the intimacy increased after
the brothers had been separated. Dennis and Noel now were not only
tent-mates, but almost inseparable companions.

As yet there had been slight call for their labors at Harper's Ferry. It
was not known that the Confederate army was near, and in their sense of
security most of the men were becoming somewhat careless in the
observance of their duties.

"There's one place," said Dennis, when the two young soldiers had gone a
mile or more from their quarters, "where I don't want to go to-day."

"Where's that?"

"'T is where that fat nager woman lives."

"But she said she was one of the best friends you had."

"'Friends'!" snapped Dennis. "'Friends'! I think she's the first cousin,
and maybe she's the sister, of ould Satan himself. You don't catch me
goin' anywhere near that place again. If she thinks I came down here to
set such nagers as she free, she's very much mistaken. No, sor! Niver
again! If she should run after me any more, she'll only reach me
through me dead body."

"But suppose, Dennis," laughed Noel, "that you found another pig
somewhere. Which would you do, drop the pig or keep off the fat darky?"

"I'd keep off the darky, anyway, though I don't think I should let go me
pig. 'T was good of you, Noel, to give me your word that you would niver
tell anybody in the camp about it."

"About what?" inquired Noel innocently.

"About what took place the other day when that nager woman chased me."

"When did I promise?"

"Shure, you promised right there where we were whin I got away from
her," said Dennis, as he stopped abruptly and looked into the face of
his companion.

"But I don't remember making any such promise," said Noel slowly.

"Indade, an' you did," declared Dennis. "You gave me your word, and your
word is better nor your bond. You haven't breathed a word of it to a
livin' soul."

"How do you know I haven't?"

"Because if you had whispered it even to the sutler 't would have been
all over the camp in no time. I knew I could rely on you, me boy."

"But I tell you," protested Noel, "I don't remember making any such
promise."

"You shure did, and if you didn't you'll give it to me now."

"How do you know I will?" protested Noel, whose opportunities of teasing
his joke-loving tent-mate were not numerous.

If there was any mischief in the camp every one by common consent
declared that Dennis O'Hara had a share in it, if he was not the prime
mover. But like all practical jokers, Dennis, so fond of playing pranks
upon others, was usually easily angered when he himself was made the
victim of the pranks.

"Shure, Noel," he begged, "you'll give me your promise now? Just think
what it would mane for me. Ugh!" he added, as he closed his eyes and
shuddered at the recollection of the "attack" of the huge field-hand.

"But, Dennis," protested Noel, "she was simply trying to show her love
for you. She said she had been waiting years for you to come down here.
Indeed, she declared that with you here the year of Jubilee had nothing
to offer."

"She didn't!" spoke up Dennis promptly. "Indade, an' she said nothin'
of the kind! If you won't mind, Noel," he added, "I think I'll make a
deetour about that cabin yonder," as a little log cabin in the distance
was seen.

"What's the matter now, Dennis?" laughed Noel. "You aren't afraid there
will be more field-hands there?"

"I don't feel like takin' great chances. I tell you, Noel, one such
chase is enough to last a man a lifetime."

"I don't know, Dennis, whether or not we had better go much farther,"
said Noel, hesitating as he stood on the hillside and looked anxiously
about him. "We must be five or six miles from camp now and we ought to
get back long before sunset."

"What's scarin' ye, Noel?" demanded Dennis.

"Nothing is scaring me," answered Noel; "but I don't want to get a
reprimand for being late in the camp. We wouldn't get leave to be away
again very soon if we did."

"There are no Johnnies around here, anyway."

"You don't know that," said Noel positively.

"We haven't seen any."

"That doesn't mean that General Lee has not sent some division over
this way. He has a trick of doing that, you know, and making his men
show up where they aren't always expected."

"I don't mind the Johnnies," said Dennis boldly, "if we can only keep
away from the nagers. Did you mind, lad, the cockle-burrs that were in
the wool of that ould field-hand that tried--"

Dennis stopped abruptly, and turning sharply listened to the sounds
which had apparently come from the valley below them.

"What's that?" he whispered.

"That sounded like a rifle shot," said Noel seriously. "I tell you,
Dennis, we must get back to camp. I don't want to take any chances of
being cut off, and it would be mighty easy for some Johnnie to get
between us and the picket. I don't like the sound of that shot."

"No more do I," agreed Dennis. "I'm with you, lad, we'll start for the
camp."

More anxious than either of the young soldiers was willing to admit to
his companion, Noel and Dennis started hastily down the hillside, on
their way back to the garrison at Harper's Ferry.

Even thoughts of foraging apparently were ignored or forgotten by
Dennis. Success had not crowned their efforts that day. Not a pig had
been seen, and if there were any chickens in the region they had been
successfully hidden by their owners. A few withered beets and a bunch of
onions comprised the entire stock which Dennis had secured with all his
efforts.

"Look yonder, will ye!" exclaimed the excited young Irishman in a loud
whisper, pointing as he spoke to a small body of men in gray who could
be seen not far away in the road before them.

"We'll have to hide," whispered Noel. "It may be that they have seen us
already, but if they haven't we might stand a chance of getting past
them. Come on!" he added as he seized his companion by the arm and drew
him to the roadside.

The discovery which the two young soldiers had made was doubly
threatening because the road now was not near any woods.

The partly cleared fields were inclosed by rude fences of rails. Hastily
leaping over the fence, Noel and Dennis crouched on the ground behind
the rails.

Before they had taken their position Dennis whispered hoarsely, "They
have seen us, lad. There must be twinty men in that band. If we try for
the woods yonder, they'll get us both."

"We'll have to stay right where we are, Dennis, and do the best we can
to defend ourselves."

"The odds are only tin to one," said Dennis, chuckling as if the fact
was more of a joke than a peril. "They're comin', too," he added as he
pointed toward a small body of men who could be seen advancing up the
side of the hill.




CHAPTER IV

THE V IN THE FENCE


The prophecy of Dennis that a small body of men were approaching up the
winding road was in part fulfilled.

The men advanced until both the crouching soldiers were able to see
distinctly that they were clad in the uniform of gray. This fact
confirmed their suspicions that somehow the small body of men had come
between them and the camp at Harper's Ferry. Just what this meant or how
much it implied, neither was able to conjecture.

The afternoon sun was low in the western sky. As Noel glanced behind him
he became aware of this fact, and with it also came a hope that if the
advancing party might be kept off until the sun had set, the darkness
would provide a shelter under which he and his companion might be able
to retrace their way to camp.

"They're stoppin', lad!" whispered Dennis excitedly.

"So they are," replied Noel "If they will only stay there we may be
able to get away from here after all."

"But they have seen us," protested Dennis.

"I know it," answered Noel. "But they may not be able to see us now."

"There's one thing," said Dennis; "they don't know how many there are
here. If they have seen only two, it may be they think we're part of a
big company. We'll do all we can to lave them believe that. We don't
want any closer acquaintance with any of thim Johnnies."

It was manifest that the party had halted in the road, and whether or
not there was any prospect of an advance was something which the boys
could not determine.

Behind him Noel saw that the field sloped towards some woods that were
not more than one hundred yards away.

Once within the shelter of the trees, safety for a time at least might
be secured, but in passing across the open field, even on the slightly
sloping ground, they would be exposed to the fire of the men in the
road.

Suddenly Dennis exclaimed, "Look yonder, me boy! Is that a spade, or do
me eyes deceive me?"

Glancing quickly at the corner in the fence Noel saw a spade resting
upon the ground, where it plainly had been abandoned by some one who had
been repairing the fence.

"Be careful, Dennis. You'll be seen if you try to get that."

"Niver fear, me lad. That spade is worth its weight in gold, and I'm the
boy that is goin' to try for it."

Instantly acting upon his own suggestion Dennis crawled slowly through
the grass and stubble and carefully attempted to gain the implement.

Noel meanwhile anxiously watched his friend, fearful every moment that
the report of guns in the distance would be heard. His fears, however,
were relieved when in a few minutes Dennis returned with the spade.

"There, now!" he exclaimed. "We'll be ready for the Johnnies in a jiffy.
Just watch me!"

It was marvelous to see what he was able to accomplish with his spade
and still without exposing himself to the possible fire of the enemy,
who were not moving from the position where they had halted some
distance up the road.

As soon as a slight excavation had been made, both Noel and Dennis
leaped into it. A few fence rails were also secured and piled upon the
fence in front of them.

"You see now," said Dennis, "we're ready for almost any kind of an
attack."

Noel smiled, though he made no reply. The full seriousness of the peril
in which he and his companion now found themselves was plain. They were
confronted by a band which had seen them scurrying across the road, and
though the gray-clad soldiers had halted some distance down the road the
young soldier was aware that they knew of the presence of the two boys
in blue. Why they had not advanced he did not understand.

He was afraid to make the attempt to gain the woods in his rear, as he
believed his enemies were still watchful and that any effort to escape
would meet with a quick fire.

Meanwhile Dennis had succeeded in digging a ditch along the two sides of
the V-shaped rail fence.

"There," he exclaimed, with a sigh of relief. "That will keep out the
Johnnies, I'm thinkin'."

"Not very long," said Noel quickly.

"But they don't know how many there are of us," declared Dennis. "If
they try to attack us there will be a couple of thim what shurely will
nade the sarvices of the surgeon."

"We may need the services of the undertaker."

"Not yet, sor!" said Dennis with a laugh.

It was apparently impossible for the young Irish soldier to realize the
seriousness of the position in which he and his comrade now found
themselves.

"We'll wait a while, anyway," said Noel, "before we do anything. If they
don't attack us, we'll not make any trouble for them."

"I'm not so shure o' that," said Dennis.

"We won't yet, anyway," said Noel quietly, fearful that his impulsive
friend, if the attack should be delayed, would become impatient and with
difficulty would be held back from firing at the men who were so near.

Glancing again at the band of Confederates, Noel was still more puzzled
by their inactivity. Apparently they had broken ranks and were sitting
or lying about on the ground near the road, though guards had been
stationed in front and rear.

The moments dragged slowly on, and the confidence of Noel that an attack
was not to be made upon them gradually became stronger.

The afternoon sun now was not more than a half-hour above the horizon.
If they should be left free for another hour, he was hopeful that they
might make their way to the near-by woods and by a wide detour be able
to return to the camp at Harper's Ferry.

"Shure!" said Dennis, after a few more minutes had elapsed, "we can't
lave the Johnnies like this."

"You had better let sleeping dogs alone," warned Noel.

"Shure, an' I will that," said Dennis. "I'm not goin' to harm any one of
thim. They seem to me to be aslape and I want to give thim somethin' to
wake 'em up."

"What are you doing?" demanded Noel, as his companion drew an empty
cartridge from his box and filled it with powder from his flask.

"I'm riggin' up somethin' to wake up thim boys," replied Dennis soberly.

Noel said no more and continued to watch his companion, who, after the
shell had been filled with powder, adjusted the percussion cap in such a
manner that it was placed upon the powder and within the covering.

"There's one of thim," exclaimed Dennis, looking with pride at his
workmanship. "Now I'll make another one."

A second "shot" like the first was soon made, and then, handing one to
Noel, Dennis proceeded very carefully to place his own in the muzzle of
his gun.

"What are you going to do?" demanded Noel. "That isn't much more than a
blank cartridge you have got there."

"Niver you mind that," said Dennis confidently. "We'll start these
fellows on the run."

"It depends upon which way they run," again said Noel. "We don't want
them coming in our direction."

"I'm not so shure about that," said Dennis, whose respect for the enemy
had fallen because of the long silence which had prevailed after their
arrival, "I'm not so shure of that," he repeated. "'Most anything is
better than nothing. Now, then, Noel," he explained, "you see that big
oak tree just beyond the place where the Johnnies are lyin'?"

"Yes," replied Noel, as he glanced at the huge tree in the distance.

"Do you think you could hit it?"

"A blind man could do that," said Noel.

"Well, then, I'll fire and then you fire."

"At the tree?" demanded Noel in surprise.

"That's it. That's it, exactly."

"What good will that do? It will only expose us and our shots won't do
any damage."

"We'll see about that in a minute or two," laughed Dennis. "When these
strange bullets of ours strike the tree they are goin' to make that
percussion cap explode and then the powder will go off and there will be
a big noise right behind the Johnnies. They'll think somebody's firin'
at thim from the other side."

"That's no joke, Dennis," said Noel positively. "If we do what you say,
they will think they are being attacked on the other side, and if they
retreat they will come straight toward this place where we are now."

"Shure, but they won't retreat," said Dennis. "It's positive I am that
they will be puttin' straight for the place where they think these guns
are bein' fired."

"Then that will give us a chance to get away."

"Which may be right, my boy."

"Yes, I am right," said Noel hesitatingly. "Although I confess I don't
like your scheme very much."

"We'll not fire together," said Dennis. "I'll fire first, then you fire
directly after me. Be sure you don't miss that tree."

Dennis raised his gun to his shoulder, took careful aim and fired. After
a brief interval Noel followed his example, though his better judgment
still protested against the action as perilous.

True to the aim of the young soldiers the strange shots struck the tree
just as Dennis had believed they would. An explosion followed each shot
that was so loud that even the report of the guns from the V along the
line of the rail fence sounded feeble.

In a moment the little Confederate band was thrown into confusion, as
the men hastily arose and glanced in consternation first up the road and
then in the opposite direction. They had heard the report of the guns of
the two young soldiers, but, as Dennis had prophesied, the louder
reports had come after the caps had been exploded when the great oak
tree had been struck by the strange missiles.

Eagerly Noel peered between the rails to discover in which direction the
little band would start.

The consternation and confusion apparently lasted only a moment. In a
brief time the men formed and at the word of their leader started
hastily up the road in the direction of the hiding-place of Noel and
Dennis.




CHAPTER V

THE PLAN OF GENERAL LEE


In order to understand more clearly the predicament in which the two
young soldiers found themselves at the close of the preceding chapter,
it is necessary for us to review briefly the events which led up to that
time after the second battle of Bull Run when the Union forces again
were defeated. The failure of General Jackson to strike the troops of
General Pope on their line of retreat had enabled the latter with his
men to regain the shelter of the fortifications at Washington.

Meanwhile the Confederate commander, Lee, gave his troops rest only for
a day. As has been said, he was aware that it was impossible for him at
this time either to invest or to attack the lines of Washington. In
spite of his success he was convinced that only two courses of action
were open to him. One of these was to remain in Virginia and try to
defend the capital of the Confederate States from possible attacks by
his enemies, and the other plan was to cross the Potomac and enter
Maryland. There he might strike, or at least threaten to strike, some of
the Northern cities that were not far from the border, and prevent
General McClellan from carrying out his cherished desire to attack
Richmond.

Besides, General Lee was aware that, if he merely tried to defend the
capital of the rebellion, it would leave his enemy with full power to
assume the offensive and make attacks wherever it was decided, after the
spirits of his army had been restored and the ranks once more had been
filled.

There were many who believed that General Lee displayed great keenness
of vision when he decided to enter Maryland with his army. Such an act
on his part would enable the distressed farmers of the South to gather
their crops and harvests. Especially was this true in the beautiful and
fertile Valley of the Shenandoah.

In addition to these advantages, the presence of the Confederate army in
Maryland would bring many recruits, it was believed, and at the same
time would confuse the Northern army by the possibility of the trouble
that might be created there. And every day of delay was of especial
advantage to the Confederates, who were working zealously to erect and
complete the fortifications of their capital.

Another thought that is said to have been in the mind of Lee was that
the people of the North, if the war should be transferred to their
territory, would thus obtain a more intimate knowledge of its horrors,
and this personal experience would arouse a desire to bring the contest
to a close. Indeed, it is said that General Lee was confident at this
time that he could accomplish the end of the struggle, which now had
been fiercely fought for nearly a year and a half.

General Lee's first plan was to move rapidly into southern Pennsylvania,
and by compelling his enemies to follow him, as he was confident they
would do, he would draw them so far away from any defenses such as Pope
had recently secured in Washington after the second battle of Bull Run,
that if he should then plan for a battle it would be impossible for
McClellan's troops to escape surrender as well as defeat. So confident
were the Southern leaders now that they were filled with the thought
that if the desire for peace could be strengthened in the North by a
battle fought on Northern soil, and at the same time if the powers of
Europe should agree to secure their cotton from the Southland, the
results at the same time would put added pressure upon the Government at
Washington and terminate the bloody struggle.

Keen as was the plan of General Lee, he was aware that his army was in
no condition for an enlarged or energetic campaign. No small part of his
men, as they marched over the sandy soil, were leaving bloody marks of
their bare feet. It had been impossible to provide many of his soldiers
with shoes. The provisions, too, were not sufficient, and in the days
that had followed the battle many had been suffering from disease. As a
consequence it is said, by those who are competent to judge, that not
more than fifty-five thousand men were in the army of the brilliant
Southern general when he crossed the Potomac River.

Much as the men were suffering, the animals of the camp were in no
better condition. The horses were weakened by lack of food and by the
hardships of the recent days. As if these facts were not sufficient to
make the general hesitate, it is said that his supplies of ammunition
also were deficient, and that he was as seriously troubled by this last
fact as by both of the others combined.

But, like every successful man, General Lee decided not to think so
much of what he did not have as of what he did have. Whatever might
befall his attempt, he was confident that he would be able to make the
Northern armies remain so long and so far from the protection of their
defenses that he could draw out the campaign and there would be no fresh
attempt to take Richmond before the following spring. This opportunity,
as we know, would be seized by the defenders of Richmond to strengthen
their defenses.

At this time Lee was not expecting to receive any reinforcements, as the
campaigns in Tennessee and Kentucky demanded all the men that could be
spared.

Between the 4th and 7th of September (1862) the Confederate troops were
crossing the Potomac. On the last-named day General Jackson occupied
Frederick city and speedily was followed by another division. Then the
dashing cavalry of Stuart spread out in the State in such a manner that
most of the attempts of the Union generals to gain information
concerning the plans of their enemies were frustrated.

Meanwhile, as we know, the Federal soldiers were holding three fortified
places in or near the Shenandoah Valley which was the chief reliance of
General Lee for his supplies. About eight thousand men had been
stationed at Harper's Ferry, and there also were small garrisons at
Martinsburg and at Winchester.

As has been said, General McClellan urged General Halleck to recall
these men and attach them to the Army of the Potomac. This is exactly
what General Lee believed would be done, because it was what he himself
would have decided upon if he had been in his opponent's position.

When General Halleck decided to leave these garrisons in the Valley, Lee
instantly decided that they must be taken, and he believed also that
they could be captured easily.

It was essential for the plans he had formed that his own communications
with his base of supplies should not be threatened by such a large
garrison as had been placed in Harper's Ferry.

Acting promptly, as he usually did, General Lee now decided to divide
his army and reunite the divisions west of the mountains before a
decisive battle could be fought.

With this purpose in his mind the commander of the Confederate troops
issued his orders on the 9th of September, and on the following day
General Jackson, in command of three divisions, after he had crossed
the mountains, was to ford the Potomac at some place west of Harper's
Ferry and then move upon the little garrison at Martinsburg.

His companion, General McLaws, with two divisions was to take possession
of the heights which overlooked Harper's Ferry and the Potomac, while
another division under General Walker was to cross the Potomac east of
Harper's Ferry, and secure the Loudon Heights. This last-named position
would enable the Confederate soldiers to command Harper's Ferry from the
east bank of the Shenandoah. By this plan the little body of troops in
Harper's Ferry would be surrounded and absolutely cut off from every
hope of escape because General Jackson, just as soon as he had obtained
possession of Martinsburg, was to march swiftly toward Harper's Ferry
and block every road that led westward.




CHAPTER VI

LONG JOHN


Startled by the change in the attitude of the band of Confederates, Noel
in a loud whisper said to Dennis, "Come, we must get out of this right
away!"

"Not yit, sor," said Dennis.

"But we must!"

"Not before I drop one of the Johnnies."

"Don't do that!" cried Noel, as he grasped the barrel of his companion's
gun. "Don't do it! We must n't let them know any more about us than they
do now. We've got to take our chances and run down the hill to the
woods! I don't believe they will follow us if we once can get inside the
border. It's going to be a hard chase for us, though, to cover those
yards ahead of us. I would give every dollar I own if I was only there."

"Niver you fear me, lad. 'Fortune favors the brave.' Have you niver
heard that?"

"I have," answered Noel, as he glanced again at the men who were seen in
the distance. "The sooner we start the better. Come on, Dennis!"

Acting upon his own suggestion, the young soldier led the way, and
crouching low ran swiftly toward the shelter of the woods. His heart
seemed to be beating so loudly and rapidly as almost to interfere with
his efforts. He was afraid, but his fear only served to increase his
speed.

Part of the distance had been covered before the flight of the two young
soldiers was discovered by their enemies. At the sight there was a loud
cry which served to increase the speed of both fugitives.

"Spread out!" whispered Dennis hoarsely. "Spread out!"

Instantly acting upon the suggestion, as far as it was possible for two
to "spread out," Noel ran swiftly toward a low oak tree, which stood on
the border of the woods, while his companion with equal speed was
striving to gain the shelter of another tree, the name of which Noel did
not know, which stood conspicuously about twenty yards distant from the
one that he was seeking.

Before the boys could gain the shelter, the report of guns was heard,
but fortunately neither of the young soldiers was hurt.

To Noel it seemed as if the few intervening yards were almost endless.
His feet seemed to be held back, as if heavy weights were attached to
them. His feeling was not unlike that which he had experienced when he
had suffered from an attack of nightmare.

In spite of these things, however, both young soldiers were making
excellent time, and in a brief interval successfully gained the refuge
they were so eagerly seeking.

Instantly dodging behind the protecting tree, Noel peered out at the
approaching men. The dusk was rapidly deepening, and the outlines of the
approaching band could be only indistinctly seen.

He was tempted to act upon the suggestion which Dennis had made and fire
at his enemies, but his fears for his own safety were so strong that he
hesitated. In a brief time he decided to abandon the attempt, in order
not to reveal his exact hiding-place.

Strong in the hope that the men would not venture to follow within the
woods, Dennis crept speedily toward the tree which his comrade had
gained, and for a moment was startled when he beheld a man also
approaching him. It proved, however, to be Noel, and then, acting upon a
common impulse, both turned and ran farther within the sheltering
woods.

As they advanced, their progress became more difficult. The ground
beneath their feet was soft and yielding. It was manifest that they were
approaching a swamp.

Noel wondered if his enemies were aware of the character of the land. If
they were the pursuit might be continued, as they would be certain to
catch the fugitives between the swampy ground and the border where they
had entered.

"Here!" suddenly called Dennis; "here's a road." As he spoke the young
Irishman ran swiftly toward what seemed to be a road, as he had said,
and as Noel followed him he soon discovered that Dennis was correct. A
rough and partly decayed corduroy road had been made years before, but
now it provided no very secure footing. Though they were unaware where
the road might lead, both entered upon it and even increased the speed
at which they were running.

Not a word was spoken until several minutes had elapsed, and then to the
consternation of both, a man was seen not far before them, who plainly
was approaching.

Abruptly leaping from the road into the swampy ground at its side both
boys strove to hide themselves behind the protecting vines and trees.
Only a few moments had passed, however, before they were aware that the
approaching stranger was a negro. He was of unusual height and his long
strides were indicative of his haste. As the black man came still
nearer, Noel thought he never had seen a taller man. In the dusk his
long figure appeared to rise almost to the lower branches of the
overhanging trees.

Lost as they were, or at least ignorant of the region, Noel suddenly
decided to hail the approaching negro.

"Sambo, is that you?" he said as the negro came opposite the place where
he was hiding.

Instantly the negro halted, and even in the dim light his terror was
manifest to the young soldier.

"No, suh! No, suh! I isn't Sambo. I'se Long John."

"Is there anybody with you?"

"No, suh! No, suh! I'se all alone."

Confident that he might rely upon the statement, Noel instantly returned
to the corduroy road and approached the waiting black man. To Noel the
eyes of the startled negro seemed almost to protrude like saucers. For
an instant it was plain that he was tempted to flee from the spot,
but as he glanced behind him, Noel suspected that he was in greater fear
of what threatened from that direction than he was at the discovery of
the strangers who had hailed him.

"Who's yo'? Who is yo' all?" he asked, unable to prevent his teeth from
chattering as he spoke.

"We are a couple of Union soldiers, Long John, and we want your help."

"Yas, suh! Yas, suh! Bress de Lor'! I'se heerd a heap 'bout yo' all. Dey
say yo' hab hawns. Ole mass' done say dat yo' be'rd com' clar down to
heer." As he spoke the negro placed one of his big hands upon his right
hip. "Dey shorely is so feared o' yo' dat if dey heer yo' name er
hundred miles away, dey's scared des' de same."

[Illustration: "DEY SAY YO' HAB HAWNS"]

In his dilemma Noel turned once more to the colored man and hastily
said, "Where are you going?"

"Noware. Noware, suh."

"But the rebel soldiers are ahead of you."

"Dey's mo' o' 'em behind me," declared Long John promptly.

"Do you know the way out of this swamp?"

For a moment the tall negro gazed intently down at Noel. In spite of his
indifference, Long John was possessed of more intelligence than a first
impression warranted. Noel was made somewhat uneasy by the intentness of
the negro's inspection.

Apparently satisfied by what he had discovered in his own way, Long John
said, "Yas, suh! I reckon I knows dis yeah swamp."

"Do you know where this corduroy road leads?" Noel inquired, as he
pointed in the direction from which the negro had come.

"Yas, suh!"

"How long is it? How far shall we have to go before we can be out on the
firm road again?"

"I reckon it's a right sma't way," replied Long John slowly. "And if
dere's some ob the rebel sojers up ahead, dere's certainly mo' ob dem
back yonder," he added, nodding his head to emphasize the strength of
his conviction as he spoke.

"Have you seen any?" inquired Noel, as he once more glanced behind him
to discover whether or not there were any signs of continued pursuit.

"Yas, suh! I'se done seen some."

"How many are there?"

"I recken dere's a right sma't lot ob dem."

"Are they infantry or cavalry?"

"Yas, suh."

"Which are they?" demanded Noel.

"Dere's some sojers on horseback. I see Massa Little Ben Fowler--"

"Are there twenty of them?" broke in Noel impatiently.

"Yas, suh."

"Where are they?"

"Dey's right by de end on de cord'roy road. I recken dey was goin' toe
follow me, but dey all des' shouted and laughed. Dey say I can beat de
Yanks at runnin'."

"Dennis," said Noel, turning to his companion, "don't you believe that
these men have been stationed there to cut off anybody who might come
through here on this road?"

"That's it, me lad! Yis, sor! That's it," replied Dennis.

"Then we can't go ahead and we can't turn back. We're caught right here
between these two bodies. What can we do, Dennis?"

"I recken I know what yo' all 'll have to do," spoke up Long John in a
whisper, as he spoke peering intently in the direction from which the
two young soldiers had recently come.

Noel glanced in the direction indicated by the negro and in a brief
time he, too, was convinced that some men were approaching. Even Long
John was alarmed, and for a moment appeared to be on the point of
darting into the swamp.




CHAPTER VII

CAUGHT


Sharply bidding the black man remain where he was Noel again peered into
the road behind him and listened intently. There was no disguising the
fact that men were approaching. Doubtless a part of the force which had
been stationed in the road were aware of the corduroy way and had
ventured to follow the fugitives, confident that they could find no
escape from the place.

The venture on the part of the Confederate soldiers was one that tested
their courage. The darkness had deepened, and it was well-nigh
impossible to distinguish the body of a motionless man from the trunk of
one of the near-by trees. There were strange noises in the swamp, too.
There was the flapping of unseen wings and the scurrying and calls of
unseen birds, but in spite of all these things there was no doubt now in
the mind of Noel Curtis that some men were approaching from the rear.

"Dat's de only way," whispered Long John excitedly. "Dere's no oder way
outen de swamp. We des' got toe go back. Maybe Massa Little Ben Fowler
isn't dere any mo' now."

Influenced by the positive manner of the grotesque negro, without a
protest both Noel and Dennis followed him as he led the way in the
direction from which he himself recently had come.

Striving to move noiselessly, at the same time the young soldiers did
their utmost to advance rapidly. Occasionally some decayed log broke
under their feet, but there was no other sound to reveal their presence.

Repeatedly the three fugitives glanced behind them, and then fearful of
what might be before them glanced frequently in that direction. Long
John was the only member of the band who apparently was unmoved by the
excitement, a fact which was difficult for Noel to understand, inasmuch
as when first he had seen the tall, awkward slave, it was the terror of
the black man at his unexpected presence that had most impressed him.
The flight had continued not more than ten minutes before the young
soldiers arrived at the end of the road.

"There's somebody here," whispered Noel, as he grasped Dennis by the
arm and all three fugitives halted.

"Yis, sor, that's true for shure," replied Dennis in a whisper so loud
that Noel warningly again grasped his arm.

It was too dark to enable the boys to determine just how many were in
the waiting band. It was believed, however, that there were at least
twenty. Perhaps there was another little force also approaching. The two
boys in blue were caught between the two bands, and their only way of
escape was through the swamp. A hasty inspection, however, convinced
both boys that escape in that way was impossible. Even in the dim light
they were able to see the water which covered the soft ground, and it
was plain that if either of them should step upon the perilous footing
he might be in greater danger than he would be compelled to face if he
should be caught between the two little bands of their enemies.

Abruptly the lanky negro broke in upon the silence by calling loudly,
"Is dat yo', Massa Little Ben Fowler?"

There was silence for a moment, and then the reply came from some one
whom the boys could not distinguish from the body of the men. "Is that
yo' all, Long John?"

"Yas, suh. Yas, suh."

"Are yo' alone?"

"No, suh. No, suh. Dere's two gen'lmen with me."

"Bring them out."

"Yas, suh. Yas, suh," repeated Long John, though he made his way so
speedily to the more solid road that under other circumstances Noel
might have laughed.

As it was, however, both boys were aware, or at least they now
suspected, that the negro had been sent out by the rebels either to gain
information or to serve as a decoy for any of the straggling soldiers.

There was, however, apparently no way of escape. In front of them was
the band of which Little Ben Fowler undoubtedly was a member; while from
behind was approaching part of the force which had followed them into
the swamp after the two young soldiers had gained the corduroy road.

Noel heard a smothered exclamation of anger from Dennis and he knew that
the feeling of his companion was not unlike his own. However, it was
impossible now, after the loud warning which Long John had given, for
them to expect to escape.

Suddenly some one called to them from the border of the swamp, "Come
out of there, Yanks! There isn't any use in trying to get away. The
corduroy is the only safe spot you'll find on either side of the road;
so come out and give yourselves up."

"All right," responded Noel, although, as he spoke, Dennis grasped him
roughly by the shoulder as if he was protesting against the surrender.

"You keep still, Dennis," whispered Noel to his companion. "You leave
this to me and I'll see what can be done. We can't get away, and we
might as well make the best of a bad bargain. We're coming," he again
called aloud.

"Don't try any of your Yankee tricks here," called the voice which had
spoken before.

Noel made no response, and in silence the two young soldiers advanced
and in a brief time found themselves in the presence of a score of men.
They saw that every one was clad in uniform, but it was impossible at
first to determine to which side the men belonged. However, Noel was
convinced that the words of Long John had explained who the men were,
and in spite of the treachery of the negro he at once decided that he
and Dennis must give themselves up.

"Who are you, Yanks?" demanded a man, speaking in a voice which the
boys recognized as the one by which they had been addressed before.
"Step up yere and give an account of yo'selves."

Obediently, Noel and Dennis advanced, and even in the dim light they
were able to see that the man who addressed them wore the uniform of an
officer.

"We are two boys who belong to one of the New York regiments."

"Glad to see you," said the young officer laughingly. "I wish you were
back home where you belong, but as you're down here, I'm glad you met
us. We'll see that you go with the rest of the Yanks, and that you don't
do any more damage to our country. I'm surprised the Yankee soldiers
don't fight better."

The tone in which the officer spoke was almost bantering. Noel's anger
was aroused, but by an effort he restrained himself and said in a low
voice, "You talk very bravely! You'll get over your surprise pretty
soon."

"It will have to be 'pretty soon,' I reckon," said the officer
good-naturedly. "The Yanks have been running so fast and so far that
they haven't gotten their breath yet. About all we have to do nowadays
is to chase the Yankee soldiers. They didn't make a stand at Manassas
either time. They ran from General Lee on the Peninsula, and now, though
they have been running after him up here, they will dodge and run in the
other direction the minute he turns around."

Noel Curtis was unable to reply to the bantering of his captor. It was
true that thus far in the struggle the Army of the Potomac had not
covered itself with glory. In Tennessee and Kentucky, too, at the time,
the Federal forces were meeting with disaster after disaster, and to
many of the faint-hearted supporters of the North it seemed almost as if
the end had come.

"We sure are going to march straight to Philadelphia, and then you won't
be able to stop us before we get into New York and Boston. If we ever
get inside Boston, we'll show some of those fellows a trick or two that
will teach them some things they don't know now. If it hadn't been for
that city I don't believe there would have been any war."

"You don't?" demanded Noel, and in spite of his predicament, he was
interested in what the young officer was saying.

"No, sir! No, sir! There certainly would not have been any war. The
trouble was that Boston thought she not only could attend to her own
business, but that she could direct the business of all the rest of us.
It's a great thing, my son, for a man or for a city to be able to mind
its own business. That's what I say; the cocksureness of the Yanks is so
great that they think they can tell all the rest of the world how to
act."

Noel was listening only in part to the words of the leader of the little
band, from which already wild thoughts of escaping had presented
themselves.

As neither of the young soldiers had been asked to give up his gun,
there were thoughts in Noel's mind of suddenly darting to one side of
the road and trying to flee before the men were aware of his attempt.
But the folly of such an effort was so marked that Noel abandoned every
such suggestion.

"You'll come with us," said the young officer at last, his voice still
not unfriendly.

Under other circumstances Noel knew that he would have been strongly
attracted to the young officer, whom Long John had called "Massa Little
Ben Fowler."

That officer now turned to three of his men, and in a voice so low that
Noel was unable to hear what was said gave them instructions as to what
was to be done with the prisoners. Then, turning once more to the young
soldiers, the leader said, "We'll have to have yo' guns, Yanks. Yo' all
are our prisoners, yo' know, and I cannot permit yo' to retain yo'
weapons. Yo' 'll follow these men," he added, indicating the three who
had been detailed for the duty, "and they'll take yo' where yo' all will
be safe for the night, anyway. The rest of us will stay right yere by
the corduroy road and see if we can't catch some more Yanks in our
trap."

Without a word Noel and Dennis, obediently giving up their rifles,
turned and followed the men who had been detailed to conduct them to
what the young officer had described as a "place of safety."




CHAPTER VIII

UNDER GUARD


Directly back to the road over which the young soldiers had come their
conductors led the way. Both Noel and Dennis were silent, and the
disappointment which had seized upon the young Irishman was so manifest
that even in the dim light Noel was aware of the depression of his
comrade.

Deprived of their weapons and conducted by three armed men, there was no
chance likely to be given for escape, although wild thoughts of trying
to break away were still in the mind of each of the prisoners.

Not a word was spoken by their guard until about a quarter of a mile had
been covered, when one of the Confederates halting, said to the boys,
"We'll turn in here."

As he spoke he pushed some bushes apart, and in a brief time Noel was
able to see that a corduroy path, or roadway, narrower than the one over
which they recently had come was before him. One of the guards now
advanced, while the other two took a position in the rear, and as soon
as the directions were given the entire band began to make its way over
the rough pathway.

Once more silence returned, not to be broken until what Noel assumed
must have been a half-mile had been covered and again they were
approaching more solid ground.

A rough stretch of land lay before them, which was without trees and
apparently without a roadway. Without hesitation their conductors at
once led the boys across the intervening sandy stretch and soon arrived
at a low house, whose walls gleamed almost ghostly in the moonlight.
Whitewash had been applied to the exterior of the rude building and also
had been used upon the farm buildings and the fences that inclosed them.

Advancing to the low, covered piazza, which extended across the entire
front of the house, the approach of the band was speedily discovered by
the inmates, and in a moment a dozen or more soldiers came running out
of the building.

Noel was able to see that every one was clad in the Confederate uniform
and also was armed. At first the house seemed too small to contain so
many men, but when several more emerged from the interior he suspected
that there might be accommodations in the little building which did not
appear upon the surface.

"Here we are, Captain!" called one of the leaders. "We've got two."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, sir. But we'll soon have more. We've got a trap down in the Hedge
Swamp road. It's the only way the men can get through the swamp, and we
have stationed a few of the cavalry at the farther end. Some of the boys
are on the watch on the other side of the swamp, and are doing their
best to drive what Yankees there may be hiding anywhere around here on
to the corduroy road and then they feel safe to leave them. The poor
fools keep right on the road and run directly into the trap Lieutenant
Fowler set fo' them. He is waiting there with about twenty men."

"Is this the first batch you have taken?"

"Yes, sir. We have sent out Long John to help draw the Yankees into the
trap."

The Confederate officer was unaware of the gleam which appeared for a
moment in the eyes of Dennis, and he said lightly, "We'll be ready for
all you can bring us, Tom. We'll put these two fellows in the pen until
we have enough to make it worth while to send them on to Libby."

As he heard the name of the well-known prison in Richmond, Noel's heart
was heavy. Stories were current of the sufferings of the Union prisoners
who had been confined in the famous old warehouse, which had been
transformed early in the war into a prison for the Northern soldiers.
There had come many a tale of daring attempts to escape as well as of
the almost indescribable sufferings of its inmates. Perhaps it was all a
part of the struggle, and yet with the bitterness of the time so keen,
few were in a condition to look with calmness upon the sufferings of the
prisoners of either side in the struggle.

To be sent to Libby Prison! For a moment Noel's thoughts ran back to his
home on the banks of the far-away St. Lawrence. He could see the little
house sheltered by the overhanging maples. There were the red barns just
beyond, and for an instant Noel seemed to catch a glimpse of the line of
cattle slowly moving up the lane toward the barnyard. In the distance
occasional glimpses of the waters of the St. Lawrence, gleaming in the
light of the afternoon sun, were had. His mother was moving quietly
about the kitchen preparing the evening meal. Frank was lying as he
was, when he had last seen him, on the couch in the room where his
mother was busy. His father, perhaps, was singing at his task as he
milked the cows. Even the thought of the stirring words and tunes which
his father best loved to sing failed now to find any response in the
mind of Noel. It was one thing to sing of the glory of war, but it was
another and far different thing to be held as a prisoner in southern
Maryland and to be threatened with confinement in the old prison-house
at Richmond.

However, there was no possibility of evading, at least for the present,
the problem which must be confronted. Soon both Noel and Dennis were
searched and every loose possession was taken from them, to be held
until such a time as the war should cease or the prisoners should be
exchanged. There was another alternative in the thoughts of Noel, but he
did not refer to it. What that was became manifest after several days
had elapsed.

As Noel now glanced about him he was able to discover that very few
negroes were in the house. He was eager to discover the presence of Long
John, but he soon concluded that the treacherous black man had retraced
his way over the corduroy road, and doubtless now was trying to lead
some others of the unfortunate Union soldiers into the same trap in
which he and Dennis had been caught.

A half-hour after they had entered the house, Noel and Dennis were
conducted to a room on the first floor and thrust into it. The evening
was warm and the door was left open, but the guard was stationed
directly in front of it, so that any attempt on the part of the
prisoners to escape would be instantly known.

Noel looked cautiously out of the window in the room, and was aware that
a full guard had been established to patrol the place. At least four of
the Confederate soldiers were assigned to this task, and each one was
responsible for only one side of the house.

The guard that was inside and had charge of the door was good-natured
and looked at his Yankee prisoners with undisguised interest. It was
plain that he did not have any fear of the young prisoners attempting to
escape. Such an effort would be worse than useless, for at least twenty
men were in the band, and the prisoners themselves now were unarmed.

"Whar yo' from?" inquired the guard.

"From New York State," answered Noel quietly.

"I always heard that was a right sma't State. How many Yanks might there
be in it?"

"Enough to put an end to this war if they all would turn out," said
Noel.

"That can't be so, sir," said the guard solemnly.

Noel in the dim light looked more closely at the soldier. He was more
than usually stout and his good nature was apparent, not only in the
tones of his voice, but in the friendly way in which he regarded his
charges.

"Daggone! I don't believe the Yanks can fight, and yet I saw one the
other day who was a great sight and had all gone to pieces."

"Who was he? What about him?" inquired Noel, aware that he was expected
to follow up the implied question of the good-natured guard.

"Why, he had lost one hand; one leg had been shot away; he had only one
eye; he had broken some bones, and a part of his liver had been cut out
of him, and yet he was ready to fight to the last."

"I should n't think he would know who he was," said Dennis. "Faith! An'
ye say he had only one arm, one leg, one eye? An' how about his ears?"

"They were both all right," replied the guard. "His nose looked, though,
as if he dragged it along the ground."

"How did it all happen?" inquired Noel.

"Why, he had been in two battles, and the surgeons had been at work at
him. What our men did not do the surgeons thought they would finish. The
poor chap had to leave the army, but he was game all the way through.
What do you suppose will happen to him in the Resurrection?"

"I haven't looked quite as far ahead as that," said Noel.

"'Tis strange," broke in Dennis, "how much a man can lose of himself,
and still be the same man. Faith! I wouldn't know, if I lost me arm and
me leg and me head and me eyes, whether I was Dennis O'Hara or somebody
else."

"The fellow was game all through, as I said," continued the guard. "I'm
a sharpshooter," he added abruptly.

"Are you?" inquired Noel quickly, though he endeavored to conceal his
interest in the simple statement. Did the man know anything concerning
the skill of Dennis and himself with the rifle? His gun, of which Noel
had been exceedingly proud, had been taken from him. Whether or not the
guard had any suspicions concerning his skill, the fact remained that
without any kind of a weapon those suspicions mattered little.

"Yes," continued the guard. "I was in the pit firing at some Yanks over
there on the Peninsula one time last June. There was a fellow firing
away at me, and he was so good that he made me keep out of sight, too,
most of the time. I thought I had him at the same minute when he thought
he had me. We fired at the same time, and what do you think happened?"

"You both missed?" suggested Dennis.

"No, we didn't; at least both of us didn't miss. The strangest thing
happened."

"What was it?" inquired Noel, apparently still more eagerly.

"Why, would you believe it?" said the soldier, "the bullet of that
Yankee sharpshooter had gone right down the muzzle of my gun. It struck
perfectly square and went into the muzzle the whole length of it."

"And did your bullet do the same thing with his rifle?" inquired Dennis
solemnly.

"I don't know. I never have heard. I did not know but that you might
have heard something about the affair and could tell me what happened
to that Yank. Were you ever down on the Peninsula?"

"Yes, sor," said Dennis promptly.

"Maybe you were down there helping McClellan get away as fast as his
legs could carry him. You made good time!" laughed the guard.

"Faith, and we did," said Dennis, "but not as good as we might have made
if the Johnnies had followed us up. They were so afraid that we would
turn on them and take their little tin capital away from them that they
ran as fast as they could go back to Richmond."

"We weren't running in that direction," said the soldier, unmoved by the
bantering of Dennis. "Don't forget about Manassas. And now we have all
yo' Yanks bottled up right here in Maryland."

"How's that?" asked Noel.

"Why, we'll soon have the garrisons of Harper's Ferry, Martinsburg, and
every other body except McClellan's army, and we have thrown out
Stuart's cavalry so that there won't be a Yank able to get through
either way. It won't do him any good even to try."

"Wait a little while before you say that," suggested Noel, aware that
Dennis was pulling him by his sleeve.

"Whist," whispered Dennis in one of his most penetrating tones. "Don't
talk anymore with the Johnnie. I have something to say to ye that is of
a good deal more importance."

"I'm not interested," replied Noel. "I haven't had any supper, and I'm
hungry, and I want to sleep. Are we going to be fed here?" he asked,
turning to the guard.

"I reckon you will be. When I am relieved I'll see what can be done."

Conversation for a time ceased between the prisoners and their guard,
but the excitement of Dennis was not to be repressed.

When at last he had induced his companion to withdraw from the door, he
drew him into one corner of the room and renewed his whispering. At his
companion's request his voice at last was lowered so that the guard was
unable to hear what was said, and then, in spite of his weariness, in a
moment Noel was eagerly listening to what the young soldier was telling
him.




CHAPTER IX

THE PLOT


"Whist!" said Dennis. "I'm tellin' ye, lad, we must get out o' this
place."

"That's very easy to say."

"Faith, and it's almost as aisy to do."

"Don't talk so loud, Dennis."

"'T is only whispering I am."

"Yes, but you're whispering like a steam-engine letting off steam."

In the dim light the actions of the young soldiers were not clearly seen
by the good-natured guard. In spite of the easy-going manner of the
Confederate in charge of them, Noel was aware that the utmost care must
be used. The man himself had said that he was one of the sharpshooters,
and that he would quickly act if an attempt to break away was made, he
had no doubt.

"'T is silent entirely I am," said Dennis, for a moment dropping his
voice lower. "But have you noticed what there is in the wall above us?"

"No," replied Noel. "What is it?"

As he spoke he looked quickly in the direction indicated by his
companion, but his action was abruptly ended when Dennis roughly seized
him by the shoulder and said almost savagely, "What are you doin', lad?
Don't look there, whatever else you do! Kape your eyes on the floor.
Now, listen to what I am sayin' to ye. In the ceilin' there's a small
slide, leastwise I think it's a slide, though I'm not sure. It may be a
trapdoor that will lift up or somethin' of that kind."

"Yes! Yes! Go on," said Noel eagerly, as his companion stopped a moment.

"Me own thought," continued Dennis, after he was satisfied that the two
prisoners were not observed by their guard, "is that it won't be long
before we'll have a chance to go up into that loft. We'll push back the
door, or the slide, or whatever it is, and if we can do that without
makin' any disturbance, we'll drop it back into place and hold it so
that nobody can get up there. Probably they won't think we have gone up
above, anyway." Dennis laughed lightly as he spoke.

"Just where is that door, Dennis?" inquired Noel.

"Shure, and it's right above your head."

"How are we going to get through it? I mean how will you open it?"

"That remains to be seen," answered Dennis, "but it's shure I am that it
will be aisy."

"But how will you do it?" demanded Noel once more.

"When the time comes," said Dennis, "I'll inform you, but for a spell
we'll have to be careful not to wake the suspicions of the guard."

Walking abruptly from his companion, Dennis approached the soldier and
said lightly, "Aren't you goin' to feed your prisoners pretty soon? Why,
't is night comin' on and we haven't had a bite of any kind since
mornin'."

"I'll see what can be done when I'm relieved," said the soldier. "Now
don't talk to me any more and be on your good behavior, too. I don't
think it will be wise for you and the other Yank to do much whispering,
either. I'm always afraid of Yanks when they get off in a corner,
especially if it's in the dark."

"All right," laughed Dennis. "I'll put the lad over in the other corner
of the room and I'll stay right here by you."

"I don't care where you stay if you'll only keep still. You mustn't talk
to me, because if you do you are likely to get both of us into trouble.
When we get the room full of Yanks, then we'll enforce a little
different discipline."

It was dark when the guard was relieved, but soon after his place had
been taken by one of his companions he returned with some corn-bread and
some "coffee" made of toast. Humble as the fare was, it was eagerly
received by the young prisoners, and when the scanty meal was ended
Dennis said to the guard, "Shure, and you 're goin' to give us a blanket
or somethin' to sleep on, aren't ye?"

"Don't speak to me!" ordered the soldier.

"All right for yez," said Dennis good-naturedly. "If we have to slape on
the floor, we might as well begin to learn how to do the trick now as
any time. Come on, Noel," he called to his companion.

Convinced that their actions were keenly watched by the guard, Dennis
simply dropped upon the floor and bade his companion take his place
beside him. "'Tis hard slapin' here, Noel," he whispered, "but I'm
thinkin' that it won't be long that we'll have to tarry here. I'll tell
ye a bit more about me plans now."

"Don't let the guard hear you whispering," warned Noel.

"Niver a bit," said Dennis, his voice becoming so piercing that Noel
seized his companion's arm as a warning.

"I'm that still," continued Dennis, "that I can hear the mice holdin' a
pow-wow down under the floor. Now listen to me, lad. We can't do
anything to-night, but if the Johnnies don't put too many men in here
with us, it may be that to-morrow night or the night after that we can
begin our escape."

"How?" inquired Noel eagerly.

"Well, I was tellin' ye about the trapdoor, or the slide. I'm a bit
fearful o' this fellow on guard now, so that we won't try that out
to-night, but lave it to some other time. And I'm hopin' that to-morrow
night will be the darkest ever known. I'll get you to hold me up on your
shoulders, and then if you brace yoursilf against the wall, I'll see if
the door cannot be pushed back. I fancy that will be all we'll be able
to do the first night, but if I find that the thing works, then within a
night or two we can try it over again, and I'll push the door back with
me hands and then I'll climb up and hide in the loft."

"And leave me down in the room below, I suppose?"

"Not a bit of it, lad! Not a bit of it! I'll take hold of your hands and
lift you clear up where I am. Then we'll let down the door, and put it
back in its place and put a bar across it, or hold it with our hands, so
that no one can get up there, though I'm thinkin' no one will ever
suspect us of havin' gone up through the roof."

"What good would it do you to be in that room instead of in this?"
inquired Noel. "You won't be able to get away."

"Indade, an' I will, if the night is dark enough," said Dennis. "Did you
notice the magnolia tree growin' close to the side of the house?"

"Which side?"

"The one toward the barn."

"No. What about it?"

"Well, it's growin' close up, right under the eaves of the house. 'T is
big enough and strong enough to hold a man, and if the night is as dark
as we hope it will be, we'll slide out of the window, for there is a
window right by the tree, and if we are still enough we'll be able to
slip down it without disturbin' anybody."

"I'm afraid the loft will be the first place the men will search after
they find we are gone."

"Don't you belave it!" whispered Dennis positively. "I've got a bit o'
string in me pocket, an' if I can find a small sthick I'll fix the
window in the room here so that the sthick will let down the window an'
in the racket they will think we have gone straight through the bars."

Dubious as Noel was about the outcome of the proposed plan of escape, he
nevertheless was inclined to share in this project of his companion.
Whatever might be the peril, and that it would not be slight he was well
aware, it was to be preferred to being sent to Libby Prison.

Outside the windows were heavy oak bars that could neither be broken nor
removed. If the window was raised, so confident were the soldiers in
charge that their prisoners would not be able to escape, it might be
lowered in such a manner as Dennis had described, and the clatter which
would surely follow might distract the attention of the guard if the
loft once could be gained by the two soldiers.

The "sthick" to which Dennis had referred might be tied by a string that
he would attach to it and then drawn up to the loft before the door was
replaced, and before the guard was fully aware of what had occurred.

The same night two more prisoners were received and were placed in the
room in which Dennis and Noel were confined. The men, however, were
strangers to the boys, and Dennis declared that they could not be
sharers in his project unless the attempt necessarily should be delayed
several days. By that time they might be able to learn more of the
character of their fellow prisoners.

There were thoughts at times in Noel's mind that it might be well for
him or his companion to make the first attempt to escape alone. The
peril was so great and the chance of success so slight that to him it
seemed to be folly to divide the risk. If success should crown the
efforts of one, it would be a small matter for the other to follow. The
thought, however, that it would be impossible for any one without aid to
secure an entrance into the loft caused him to banish the suggestion
from his mind. By common consent the two new prisoners slept on the
opposite side of the room.

Dennis and Noel had retained the place which they at first took for
their resting-place, directly beneath the slide in the ceiling.

"To-night we must make a try of it," whispered Dennis on the evening
which followed the arrival of their companions. "I'll see what can be
done with that door, anyway."

There was no light in the room, but the dull glow that came through the
door opening into the hallway enabled them to see that the guard was
sitting quietly in his chair in a position from which he could, if
necessary, see much that was occurring within the room.

Cautiously withdrawing from the direct line of vision, Dennis and Noel
crawled nearer the wall. Dennis had removed his shoes before either of
the boys had stretched themselves on the floor for the night. Not a word
was spoken. Acting promptly Noel braced himself against the side wall
and assisted his companion to mount to his shoulders.

Dennis, who was a powerful lad, at once scrambled to the position, and,
hesitating only an instant to discover whether or not his action had
been seen, cautiously lifted his hands and tried the slide in the
ceiling directly above him.

In a moment the two young soldiers again took their position upon the
floor, each greatly excited and both relieved when after a few moments
had passed they were convinced that their actions had not been seen by
the guard.

"'T is all right, Noel," whispered Dennis. "The door up there slides
back. I can slide it open without any trouble. Now if we can find a
piece of sthick, we'll rig our trick for to-morrow night."

It was difficult for Noel, throughout the hours of the following day, to
repress the excitement under which he was laboring. His uncertainty at
times and his fears lest the guard should discover their attempts almost
caused him to decide to protest against the adventure. The thought,
however, of what freedom would mean was sufficiently strong to overcome
his fears and every time his decision became stronger.

With Dennis, there was no hesitation. Indeed, it almost appeared as if
the perilous attempt had no danger at all for the young Irish soldier.
He watched the clouds and beamed upon his companion when the guard was
changed, and said, "It looks like we're goin' to have a big rain
to-night. It's too early for the equinox, but I reckon we all will have
to take it when it comes. I reckon, too," he added, "that we all shan't
stay here much longer. We'll be sending you Yanks on to Richmond to join
your friends."

The prophecy of the guard in part was fulfilled as the day drew to its
close, and when the light disappeared the rain was falling heavily.




CHAPTER X

INTO THE STORM


When darkness fell over the land the violence of the storm increased.
The whistling of the wind and the swaying of the branches could be heard
within the building.

"This is just what we want," whispered Dennis.

"Yes," replied Noel, though his fears were not allayed by the confidence
of his comrade. "You must wait a while, Dennis," he added.

"Indade, and I'll wait," replied the young Irishman. "We want to be
shure that every wan is aslape before we begin."

As the hours passed and the fierceness of the storm increased, and the
sound of the pelting raindrops was heard as they struck the sides of the
building, the monotony of it all served as an inducement for sleep. It
was not long before the sounds which came from their fellow prisoners
convinced both the young soldiers that the men were sleeping soundly.
The guard in the hallway was plainly within sight seated in a chair
which was tipped back against the wall. A lighted candle was shining in
each end of the hall, and though the light was dim every movement of a
person near by could be plainly seen.

Fortunately the light of the candles did not fall directly upon the
ceiling in the room where the prisoners were confined.

"It must be eliven o'clock," whispered Dennis. "Don't you think so,
Noel?"

"Yes."

"It's time for us to begin."

"Yes," again assented Noel.

"Kape still now, while I take off me shoes again. You'd better take
yours off, too."

"We'll want them if we ever get out of this place," suggested Noel.

"That's right. Shure we will. You'll have to pass them up to me after I
have climbed into the loft."

Noel made no further protests, and Dennis at once prepared to carry out
the plan which he had so carefully devised.

Silently both young soldiers removed their shoes, and then, without
delaying a moment, as soon as Noel had braced himself against the side
of the wall, Dennis clambered to his shoulders and then waited a brief
instant to discover whether or not the guard was aware of any unusual
activities among his prisoners.

The silence was unbroken, and Dennis, as soon as he was convinced that
the suspicions of their guard had not been aroused, slowly and
cautiously began to slide back the opening into the loft.

More time was consumed in this endeavor than either of the boys had
expected. Several times the door seemed to stick in its place, and only
by the utmost care was the young Irishman able to push it past the
obstacle without making any noise. At last, however, his effort was
crowned with success and a narrow opening above him was cleared.

To Noel, who was upholding his burden, the efforts of his friend
appeared to be unduly prolonged. It seemed to him that he could not
longer maintain his position and that he must let Dennis fall to the
floor.

Aware, however, that such an action on his part would certainly arouse
the guard, he braced himself once more and did his utmost to stand
steadily in his place.

His relief was great when Dennis, firmly grasping with a hand each side
of the floor above him, quickly raised himself and crawled into the
loft. Noel instantly stooped and taking the heavy shoes held them
toward the ceiling.

In the darkness it was with difficulty that Dennis at last was able to
see and seize them, and then, as soon as he had placed them carefully on
the floor of the loft, he reached down to grasp the uplifted hands of
Noel.

Securing a firm hold upon each of Noel's wrists, Dennis, bracing
himself, slowly and steadily lifted his companion. In a brief time Noel
was able to grasp the sides of the floor and thereby assist his
companion. The slightest noise might mean the death of either of the
escaping soldiers, and yet, dire as was the peril, Noel's heart seemed
somehow almost to be numb at the time. He did not even consider the
possibility that confronted him. His main endeavor was to clamber into
the loft noiselessly and thereby avoid arousing the Confederate guard.

At last Noel was standing beside Dennis, and with the utmost caution the
latter at once pushed back the slide into its place.

The falling of the raindrops on the roof, which was directly above them,
helped drown any noise that the guard might make below. The whistling of
the wind as it swayed the branches of the near-by tree was weird. Even
the beating of their hearts seemed to sound so loudly that each was able
to share in his companion's feelings.

Both young soldiers were listening intently for any disturbances that
might be made in the room below them. A faint light entered the room
through the one window, which was near the tree. This, however, was
sufficient, after the lapse of a few minutes, to enable both boys dimly
to discern the outlines of the room in which they were standing.

"Whist!" whispered Dennis. "They haven't heard us. 'T is a fine day for
us."

"Wait," said Noel.

"No, I'm not goin' to wait," retorted Dennis. "What we want to do is to
lave at once. The more we wait, the longer we'll have to stay. Every
minute here means a month in Libby Prison."

The window was closed, but one of the small panes was broken, and
without much difficulty the boys succeeded in removing the sash.

A heavy downpour of rain and a fresh shriek from the storm served to
cause both boys to pause once more and listen for further sounds of
discovery from the room below. Apparently, however, their escape had
not as yet been discovered, and eagerly both prepared to descend by the
way of the tree to the ground.

In order to gain a more secure foothold and at the same time avoid
making any noise, each of the boys had tied his shoes together and hung
them about his neck.

Dennis first peered out of the window, and when he withdrew his head he
whispered to Noel, "I cannot see the guard anywhere. I guess the
Johnnies don't like the rain and have gone in out of the wet."

Noel was too excited to respond to the suggestion and eagerly said, "Go
on, Dennis! Go ahead! Don't wait a minute."

"Here I go, then!" said Dennis, as, leaning from the window, he grasped
the extended branches of the tree which reached to within a few inches
of the side of the house.

Noel breathlessly watched his companion, at the same time seeking to
discover whether the descent of Dennis was known to any one below. The
young soldier had no conception of the minutes that passed, but it
seemed to him a long time before the young Irishman at last disappeared
from sight, evidently having successfully gained the ground.

Without hesitating longer, Noel instantly prepared to follow. As he
seized the extended branch his hands for a moment slipped, and it was
only with difficulty that he retained his hold and prevented himself
from falling to the ground. The branch creaked ominously and the alarm
of the young soldier was increased by his fear that it would fail to
sustain him. Noel was strong and nimble, however, and soon secured a
firmer grip, and convinced that his departure from the building as yet
had not been discovered, he rapidly made his way to the ground, and then
without delaying a moment ran swiftly in the direction of the barn.

All the time he was fearful of a shot from the guard in or about the
house. Perhaps fear gave him additional speed. At all events, in a brief
time he gained the shelter he was seeking, and at once, keeping well
within the lee of the barn, peered anxiously at the place from which he
had fled.

The noise of the storm was the only sound to be heard. The faint light
that was shining from the window of the hall where the guard had been
stationed was the only bright spot in the midst of the surrounding
darkness. There were no indications of pursuit and no sound which
indicated that his flight had become known.

But where was Dennis? For the first time Noel became aware that he and
his friend had not made any plans as to their meeting in case both were
successful in escaping from the house.

Eagerly the boy looked all about him, but there was no sign of his
friendly comrade. For a moment Noel was undecided. Should he remain
where he was and wait the possible coming of Dennis? Or should he at
once depart from the place, now that he had succeeded in gaining the
shelter of the barn, and strive to make his way as best he might to the
road which joined the one that led through the swamp?

Noel Curtis was too highly wrought up to hesitate long. Safely making
his way toward the opposite side of the barn, he then started swiftly in
the direction in which the longed-for road was to be found. He had only
a faint recollection of the direction, however, and the night was too
dark to enable him to discover any familiar signs.

Before he had fled twenty yards he was drenched with the downpour. That
fact, however, was of minor consequence, and in his eagerness, although
he frequently was slipping and sliding as his feet failed to gain a firm
foothold in the slippery mud, it was not long before Noel found himself
at the place he was seeking. He had believed that no guard would be
stationed there in such a night. Not only was the storm so violent as to
make it well-nigh impossible for a man and his horse to remain outside,
but the darkness would enable any Northern soldiers who might have
crossed the corduroy road to escape the vision of the waiting
Confederate.

Noel's surprise and pleasure were great when he discovered that the road
over which he was running was a plank road. When he had fled about one
hundred yards, almost breathless he halted to discover whether or not
there were any signs of pursuit.

Convinced that his escape as yet was unknown, the lad seated himself on
a plank in a small bridge and donned the shoes which he had been
carrying about his neck. Then he resumed his flight through the driving
storm.




CHAPTER XI

NICK


The brief respite had so restored the strength of the young soldier that
he ran swiftly over the loose planks until he had gone several yards
from the place where he had stopped.

Compelled then to slacken his pace, he glanced anxiously about him as he
moved on through the unfamiliar country. The storm was still severe,
though heavy, broken clouds now were to be seen in the darkened sky.

Noel was fleeing through a country with which he not only was not
familiar, but which also provided many perils of its own. Fortunately,
as he believed, there were few people whom he was likely to meet at such
a time and in a pouring rain. The thought of Stuart's cavalry, however,
caused him to be doubly watchful, for he knew of the report that
horsemen had been thrown out to intercept any stragglers that might be
striving to make their way to the army of General McClellan.

An hour or more elapsed, and as yet Noel had not discovered any one on
the old roadway. Once when he had passed a humble cabin the barking of
the dogs had caused him to hesitate. He was defenseless and was unaware
of the sympathies of the inmates of the little house. The uncertainty,
however, caused him to resume his flight, although he still was ignorant
of his destination.

His chief thought was that, by placing the greatest possible distance
between him and the enemies whom he had left behind him, he might then
be able to obtain help or find a place in which he could hide throughout
the day and resume his flight when night again came. Even in his alarm
and perplexity, he smiled as he recalled the statement of Dennis, when
the young Irishman had outlined his plan for escape, "that he didn't
know where he was going, but he knew he wanted to go there mighty quick,
and he wanted to go mighty bad."

The night now was almost gone. Noel was aware of this from the slight
change that appeared in the eastern sky. There was as yet no promise of
the passing of the storm, though its violence had markedly decreased.

It was strange, the young soldier thought, that all through the hours of
his flight he had not discovered any of his enemies. At that moment,
however, Noel saw coming from a lane at the left of the road a man who
was carrying a burden in each hand. Around his neck hung a yoke the
cords of which were attached to bundles.

It was too dark to enable Noel to determine whether or not the man was a
soldier. He halted abruptly, and, prepared to flee instantly if occasion
should demand, eagerly watched the approaching stranger. As yet he
apparently was unaware of the presence of Noel in the road. Suddenly,
however, he glanced in the direction of the young soldier.

The man's alarm was so manifest at his discovery that under other
circumstances Noel would have laughed heartily. The light was
sufficiently strong to enable him to see now that the man was not a
soldier, and a moment later, when the stranger spoke, the young
soldier's fears were relieved when it became manifest that he was a
negro.

"Who dat? Who dat?" asked the colored man as he stopped abruptly.

"Where did you come from?" demanded Noel, striving to speak sternly.

"Yas, suh! Yas, suh!" replied the negro. "Is yo' all come from--"
Whatever the place from which the negro thought he came, he did not
complete his sentence, and consequently Noel was left in ignorance.

"Who lives here?" demanded Noel.

"Massa Hilton."

"Is he home?"

"No, suh. Yas, suh. I don' jest 'member whether he's home or not,"
stammered the negro.

Noel's experiences with Long John had made him somewhat suspicious of
the colored people of the region. He decided that he would be extremely
cautious, and at once said, "In which direction are you going?"

"Yas, suh! Yas, suh!" replied the negro.

"Come on, then," said Noel. "I'm going in the same direction."

The colored man hesitated a moment, and then as he moved nearer he was
convinced that he did not need to fear the young stranger and obediently
joined him.

As soon as they had advanced beyond the point in the road which hid the
little house from their sight, Noel turned to his companion and said,
"What are you doing--leaving home at this time of night?"

"I don' lib dar," replied the negro promptly. "I b'long to Massa Frost."

"Where does he live?"

"Fo' or five miles up yonder," replied the negro, pointing ahead of him
as he spoke.

"What are you doing down here, and what are you leaving at this time in
the night for?"

"Is yo' all a Union sojer?" asked the negro abruptly.

"Do I look like it?"

"Yas, suh; though yo' clothes is so covered with mud I dess can't tell
'xactly what you are."

"What would you say if I was?"

"I want to know whether yo' is or yo' isn't befo' I answers dat ar
question."

"All right," laughed Noel, who was convinced now that in no event should
he have to fear his colored companion.

The house had been safely passed and the negro apparently was
inoffensive and harmless. Noel was still watchful for the appearance of
any of Stuart's men, for whom he entertained a feeling of most wholesome
respect.

"What's your name?" he asked again as he turned to his companion.

"Yas, suh! Yas, suh!" replied the negro. "My name's Nick."

"Are you related to 'Nicodemus, a slave, of African birth,' and did you
call your friends to 'meet you down by the swamp and wake you up for
the great jubilee'?" The young soldier was speaking in apparent
seriousness and his companion stopped abruptly and stared at the man who
had asked him these strange questions.

"No, suh," he said. "I never kno' nuthin' 'bout no swamp. Wha's dat yo'
all is tellin' 'bout anyway?"

In a low voice Noel began to sing the song which was familiar even in
his far-away home on the St. Lawrence,--

    "Nicodemus, the slave, was of African birth,
    And he died years ago very old.
    Wake me up was his plea--"

"Yas, suh," said the negro, "but it's not dis yere Nick. Dat's some oder
Nick. I know milliums of darkies named Nick."

"Nick," demanded Noel abruptly, "do you know any men around here who are
friends of the Union?"

"Yas, suh. I sho'ly does," replied the negro, so promptly that the young
soldier at once decided that he might rely upon his friendship.

"Are any of the men at home now?"

"Yas, suh. Yas, suh. Massa Hilton, back yonder; I reckon he mought be er
Union man."

"Is your master?"

"Yas, suh. Massa Hilton's brother Sam, he's fo' de South. I reckon it
almost comes to blows when dey talks about de war."

"Isn't either of them in the army?"

"Yas, suh; Massa Sam Hilton, he's in de 'fed'ate a'my."

"But this Mr. Hilton who lives back in the house we passed, he's not a
soldier, you say?"

"No, suh. No, suh."

"You're sure he's a good friend of the Union men?"

"He sho'ly am."

"Then I'm going back there," said Noel, stopping as he spoke and turning
abruptly about.

Nick in surprise also stopped and looked at his companion. "Is yo' all a
Union sojer?"

"I am, and I want to go where I can find somebody who will be good to me
for a day or two. You say you're sure Mr. Hilton will be glad to see
me?"

"I can't jes' say as how he will be glad to see yo'," replied the negro,
shaking his head slowly.

"But you said he would," interrupted Noel.

"No, suh; 'scuse me. What I done say was dat he would be good to yo'. I
don' know as Massa Hilton will be _glad_ to see a Union sojer des'
now."

"Why not?"

"Dar's some special reasons what I don't recomember," replied Nick,
speaking in such a manner that Noel's suspicions again were aroused.

"But you say he's a Union man?"

"Yas, suh. Yas, suh, he sure am."

"Why won't he be glad to see me?"

"I done tell yo', suh, des' now dat dere's all dis yere trouble what am
goin' on. I reckon dey isn't nobody what's glad to have a sojer come to
his house des' now."

"Oh, I see," said Noel slowly; "but if I do come he will take care of me
for a day or two? Then I'm going back there. What have you got in your
bundle, Nick?"

"Nothin' much. Des' some stuff what Massa Frost done tol' me fo' toe git
at Massa Hilton's."

"Why do you call for it in the night? Why don't you go out in the
daytime?"

"I'se feared some of the sojers mought see me if I start after sunup--"

"You're more afraid they will take away from you what you have in those
bundles."

"Dere ain't nuthin' in dis yere bundle. I mus' be goin' on," Nick added
excitedly. "I mus' git toe Massa Frost's befo' sunup."

"Well, good luck to you," laughed Noel. "I hope you won't fall in with
any of Stuart's cavalry, and I hope a good deal more that I shan't, but
I'm going back to that house."

The young soldier was aware that he was incurring great risk in his
venture, but he was wet and weary, and it had been long since he had
tasted food. He might be hidden about the place somewhere and fed for a
day or two, when matters might so shape themselves that he would be able
to join the main army of McClellan, which he knew could not be very far
away.

Acting at once upon his decision, Noel rapidly retraced his steps and
soon arrived at a place from which he was able to see the house and the
few low outbuildings that were in the rear. He stopped a moment and
listened intently. The rain had almost stopped, though the air was heavy
with mist. Not a sound broke the silence.

Cautiously approaching the house, Noel turned from the roadside and
started toward the building. He was watchful, for not only was there
peril from men who might be within, but also from the huge dogs which
he knew were common in the region.

When at last he approached the grounds of the house he stopped once more
and again listened intently. Still the silence was unbroken and there
was no appearance of danger.

He decided to go to the door, which he believed would be in the rear of
the house and that opened into the kitchen. Perhaps he might there find
a shelter or some place of refuge which would protect him in a measure
from the night. If such a place should be found, he planned to wait
there until daylight before making his presence known to the inmates of
the house.

To his great delight Noel discovered a lean-to or shed in the rear of
the house. The floor was of brick, and though it was too dark to enable
him to see what was inside, the fact that no dogs had challenged his
coming encouraged him to enter. Stepping inside, he turned to look once
more out into the night and make certain that his movements had not been
seen.

The young soldier was startled when, appearing around the corner of one
of the low buildings, he saw a man, who in the dim light seemed to loom
head and shoulders above the height of an ordinary human being. At first
Noel almost believed that it was the negro, Long John, by whom he had
been led into the trap set by the Confederate soldiers. Certainly the
man was as tall as the negro, but there was something in his movements
which convinced the watching boy after a brief interval that this man
was not colored.

Suddenly it occurred to him that the proprietor of the place, the man of
whom Nick had spoken as "Massa Hilton," might be the one who was
approaching, though why he should be out of the house at such a time and
in such a night the lad could not understand. Boldly advancing from his
hiding-place, Noel approached the startled stranger, and in a low voice
hailed him.




CHAPTER XII

THE GIANT


"Who's that? Who's that?" demanded the man in a voice which did not
betray any alarm. Indeed, the huge form seemed to loom even larger
before Noel in the dim light. It was plain that the man was not in any
fear, and his deep, guttural voice produced a peculiar effect upon the
listening young soldier.

Noel glanced hastily about him, somehow fearful now of others
approaching from the barns. He had heard numerous stories concerning the
bowie-knives with which it had been reported many of the Southern
soldiers were armed. To the imagination of the young soldier not only
did the size of the man who had halted before him seem to increase, but
now he was fearful of enemies approaching from the rear. With all his
heart he wished that he had never listened to the words of Nick. In his
alarm it seemed almost as if his cap was being lifted by his hair and
cold chills were passing up and down his spine.

The strange man slowly advanced, and in a manner which still betrayed
more of curiosity than of fear came closer to the frightened young
soldier and looked intently into his face.

"Who are you, sir?" he demanded coolly. "What are you doing out here at
this time of the night?"

"That's just what I was going to ask you," spoke up Noel, determined to
be as bold as circumstances permitted.

"Oh!" the giant replied in unchanged tones. "I thought I heard some
disturbance among the cattle and I came out to see if anything was
wrong."

When the man spoke, he advanced as if he was about to pass the young
soldier and enter the house. He was walking with a slow, calm, and
almost measured stride.

He had, however, gone but a few yards before he halted once more, and
turning again toward the young soldier remarked in an indifferent way,
"'T is a pretty evening, sir."

Noel was well aware that the evening was being far from "pretty." The
darkness still was intense and the dampness which had followed the storm
had produced a chill under which the lad was shivering.

Taken aback by the cool assurance of the giant, when the man resumed
his walk, he had advanced halfway to the house before Noel again hailed
him. "Look here, my friend," he called; "I'm sorry to detain you, but
the captain might wish to see you."

"Well?" inquired the giant in a drawling tone.

"Who lives in this house?" demanded Noel.

"I do."

"Is this house frame or brick?"

"I don't know why it concerns you, but it's a frame house, not a brick."

"Are you the owner of this house?"

"I reckon I am."

"What are you doing out here this time of night?"

"I told you, sir, that I went out to quiet a disturbance among the
cattle."

"Can you tell me where Mr. Hilton lives?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where does he live?"

"He lives here."

"Are you Mr. Hilton?"

"I reckon that's what my neighbors sometimes call me."

"Are you a Union man?"

"How does that concern you?" demanded the man, still without betraying
any signs either of fear or interest.

"Because I'm a Union soldier myself."

Still the interest of the man apparently was not aroused. Calmly he
asked, "And what may you want of me if you're what you say you are?"

"If you'll take me into the house I'll explain to you." Noel glanced
about as he spoke, for the fear of men stealing upon him through the
darkness was still strong upon him.

"I reckon we can talk where we are," said the man at last.

"Well," said Noel, determined, now that he had revealed his identity,
that he would venture to tell the rest of his story. "I came through the
valley from Harper's Ferry and was taken prisoner by some of the
Johnnies, but managed to get away. I have been traveling all night long
and am soaked through and tired and hungry, and if you're what I
understand you are, a friend of the Union cause, I hope you'll take me
into your house and let me dry my clothes and give me something to
eat--"

"And bring a dozen bands of Confederates around me like hornets," broke
in the man, though still he was not excited and was speaking in the
calm, deliberate tones which he had before used. "I have had trouble
enough with my secesh neighbors. How do I know who you are or that you
are what you tell me you are?" he demanded once more.

"You can see for yourself when we go where there is a light."

"I reckon you can come in," said the man at last; and eagerly Noel
followed him as he led the way into the house.

As soon as they entered, the stranger seated himself near the door and
bade Noel take a chair near him. A candle had been lighted and placed
upon a rude table, and its beams enabled the young soldier to see more
clearly the strange man before him. In spite of his apparent
indifference Noel was suspicious that he was more excited than he cared
to have his visitor know.

"What's all this rumpus?"

Noel looked up as he heard the words shrilly spoken and saw a woman
standing in the doorway of a room which adjoined the kitchen.

"Who's this yo' have brought home, Jim?" she asked of Noel's host. Her
words plainly were disturbing. She was a short, stout woman. Her hair
was hanging down her back, and around her shoulders was a shawl which
reached almost to her knees.

Startled as Noel had been by the sound of her voice, he hastily
concluded, as soon as he was aware of the response which the tall man
made to her words, that if he was supposedly the head of the house,
evidently she controlled the head.

"That's just like yo'," she said tartly. "I've got all the mouths I want
to feed now, and yo' keep bringing people in here--"

"Sh-h-h, Sairy Ann. This yere man is a Union soldier--"

"How do yo' know he is?"

"He told me so."

"Yo' can't believe everybody," said the woman. "Ever since all this
trouble with the secesh began, nobody can trust his best friend. If I
had my way about it, I would put somebody in command of the Union
soldiers that would do something. They wouldn't be runnin' at Bull Run
the way they did, and I reckon Pope led the way, too, and probably made
better time than any of them. Before McClellan gets his eyes open, I
reckon the whole o' Maryland and Harper's Ferry, too, will run to join
Lee's army. Pretty kind of men we have fighting for the Union! How do
yo' know he is a Union soldier?" she repeated.

"If you'll hold the candle you can see for yourself, if there's any of
the cloth of my uniform that will show through the mud," said Noel
good-naturedly.

In spite of her apparent harshness, the young soldier was convinced that
she was not so unfriendly as her words at first implied.

Taking him at his word, the woman advanced, and holding the candle above
her head looked keenly at the intruder. "Yo' don't look so dreadful
deceitful," she admitted, "but a body never can tell. Fine feathers
sometimes make fine birds, and maybe yo' put on those clothes because
yo' want to get into our house. Jim has the name of being a friend of
the Union, but he's just about as lively as McClellan. I had to make him
go out to see what was the matter with the cattle. They are all right,
are they, Jim?" she demanded, turning once more to the man who plainly
was her husband.

"Yas, Sairy Ann," he replied; "I reckon they got a bit restless endurin'
the storm."

"Yo' didn't see any signs of men being around?"

"This is the only man I saw."

"Well, they will be here pretty quick, I reckon," she declared. "If the
secesh find out that there is a cow left on the place they will come for
it. I reckon they have been here already. Jim isn't much of a
protection, except to look at," she added, turning again to her visitor.

Under other circumstances Noel would have laughed at her words, for the
huge Jim plainly was in full subjection to the little woman who was
talking so volubly.

"What did yo' stop here for?" she abruptly demanded.

"I have been running almost all night," explained Noel, "and I found a
negro out here. He said that Mr. Hilton was a friend of the Union. I
thought morning would be here pretty soon and I didn't know just where
to go. I'm a stranger in this part of the country."

"Whare yo' from?" asked the woman.

"New York State."

"I reckon that's a right sma't way from here. Well, I won't turn yo' out
if yo' are the first cousin to Beelzebub such a night as this. Are you
hungry?"

"I am. But I won't disturb you. If you'll let me lie down here on the
floor, I'll wait until you have your breakfast."

"Yo'll do nothin' of the kind," said the woman brusquely.

"Do you want me to leave now?"

"Who said anything about your leavin'?" she demanded sharply.

"I did," said Noel.

"Well, I'm goin' to dry yo' out first. Yo' 're one mass of mud from head
to heels. Yo' all go into that room," she added, pointing as she spoke
to another little room that opened out of the kitchen, "and put your
clothes outside the door. I reckon I'll have to bake 'em, before I ever
can get 'em clean."

The woman's friendliness was so manifest that in spite of his suspicions
Noel promptly decided to obey.

"Don't yo' be afraid," continued the woman, when Noel at last had
carried out her directions, and had thrown his soaked and muddy uniform
outside the door, as she had suggested. "I'm goin' to look out for yo'.
Yo' aren't much more 'n a baby, anyway. I wonder that your mother should
ever let yo' come so far away from home. Much good yo' can do, fighting
these secesh! Now, yo' get into bed and when I have your breakfast
cooked I'll set it here by the door. Yo' can help yourself then, and
after yo' have had all yo' want, yo' get back into bed an' stay there
until I tell yo' to get up. I'm thinkin' the bed is about as safe a
place as yo' can find in these days. It's been nothin' but soldiers
marchin' up and down, back and forth, in and out, to and fro, for the
past week! They seem to be goin' about like old Satan and roarin' like a
lion seekin' whom they may devour."

The tall host whom Noel had followed into the house had remained seated
near the door throughout the interview. In spite of his indifferent
manner, the young soldier was startled when several times he was
suspicious that the man was listening for the approach of some one. He
glanced frequently toward the door, and there was an air of anxiety or
expectation in every movement he made. However, Noel had been so tired
and now was so refreshed by the simple food which the woman soon
provided for him that he dismissed his fears from his mind and soon was
sleeping soundly.

He was awakened by the sound of voices in the adjoining room. It was
daylight now and his bedroom was flooded with sunshine. It was, however,
the conversation in the kitchen that chiefly interested the young
soldier, and in a brief time he was keenly excited by what he heard. He
looked about the room for his uniform, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile from the parts of the conversation which he overheard, he was
convinced that the visitor was a soldier in the Confederate army.




CHAPTER XIII

FRIENDS OF THE UNION


Noel's excitement gave place to alarm as he listened to the conversation
in which the two men were engaged.

The lack of his uniform prevented him from trying to leave his room, and
as yet he was uncertain whether or not the visitor even was aware that a
young soldier of the Union was in the house.

For a time Noel listened intently, striving to discover something which
would give him the information he desired; but the words of the visitor,
whose part in the conversation was much greater than that of his tall
host, did not imply that he was suspicious.

There were moments when snatches of the conversation almost convinced
Noel that the man was a spy. It was plain that he was more or less
familiar with the conditions existing in the Union army, but how he had
obtained such detailed information was something the listening young
soldier was unable to explain.

"Where is McClellan now?" inquired Jim.

"Up near Frederick City."

"What's he doin' there?"

"What has he been doin' ever since he has been made commander?" laughed
the visitor. "He's waitin', that's what he is, and if he keeps it up a
little longer he won't have any more waitin' to do."

"Why not?"

"Because our army will snap him up between its jaws. I reckon there
weren't many men in the whole army of General Lee who thought it was a
good thing to divide his forces as he did when he sent McLaws and Walker
after Martinsburg and Harper's Ferry. Why, man alive, Lee split his army
right in two, and then put a good bit of distance between the two parts!
If McClellan knew enough about it, and if he is very much of a general
he would know, he would throw his whole force against either of these
divisions and smash it to pieces, before the other could come to its
help. As it is, he's still tryin' to make up his mind, I reckon, and the
result is that he's goin' to be caught between these two divisions just
like a mouse is caught between the jaws of a cat. We have got him just
as shore as you are born."

"I don't believe it," said Jim slowly.

"It doesn't make any difference whether you believe it or not, that's
what's going to happen," laughed the visitor.

"Now you say that Stuart's cavalry has been thrown out in such a way
that little Mac can't get any information about what Lee's plans are?"

"That's true enough, and yet, if McClellan had even a few men like those
that are gettin' information for General Lee, he ought to know about
it."

Noel fancied he could detect an importance in the words just spoken
which confirmed him in his belief that the man in the other room was a
spy from Lee's army. His excitement increased as his conviction gained
in power, and he almost groaned as he realized how helpless he was.
Deprived of his uniform, without any weapon of defense, he was powerless
to interfere with the man or his plans.

"I reckon Little Mac will give a good account of himself befo' long,"
said Jim positively.

"He'll have to make haste about it, then. He left Washin'ton with an
army of nearly eighty-five thousand men. He ought to do something with
such a body as that. Why, only last night, if he had made a night
march, he mought have got in possession of both Gaps--"

"What Gaps?"

"Why, Crampton's Gap and Turner's. He's lost his chance, though."

"You know a right sma't lot, don't you?" inquired Jim.

"That's my business."

"Well, I haven't any curiosity about this thing," said Jim, shaking his
head slowly as he spoke. "I'm satisfied to stay right here and be true
to the old flag. There comes Sairy Ann," he added, as Noel heard the
sounds of the voices of women approaching from the stairway, which the
night before he had seen was on the opposite side of the room. It was
manifest now that Sairy Ann also had her visitor, and as the two women
entered the room both men became silent.

"I done tole yo' how it is," Sairy Ann was saying. "I've said to yo'
many times, 'Liza, that I wouldn't stand for no sech foolishness. I don'
like the secesh. I never did and I never shall, and if yo' 're
determined to be secesh yourself, then yo' 'll have to take the
consequences! I don't mind tellin' yo' all as how I hev made my will."

"Hev ye?" inquired the other woman, the tones of her voice implying
that she was at once deeply interested.

"Yes, I hev, and instead of leaving yo' all the money I promised yo',
I've willed yo' a pair o' my shoestrings."

"I don' believe yo' hev done any sech thing, Sairy Ann!" protested the
other woman.

"I don't care whether yo' believe it or not. That's jest exactly what I
hev done. I hev set it down pertic'lar,--'To my oldest sister, 'Liza, I
give, bequeath and leave and likewise devise one pair of shoestrings.'"

"Well, I'd rather hev a pair of shoestrings and be loyal to my State
than I would to hev all your money and be a Yank."

"Of course, _you_ would, 'Liza," snapped Sairy Ann. "That's because yo'
don't know no mo'. If yo' knew mo', yo' wouldn't talk sech nonsense."

Whether or not the woman's argument was deemed sufficient, at all events
the conversation abruptly ceased when the visiting man said, "Now, I hev
come fo' yo' yere, 'Liza, and I don't intend to stay very long. You hev
got to make up your mind right sma't whether yo' 're goin' to come with
me, or whether yo' 're going to stay here with your sister."

"That's right," sobbed Eliza. "That's right. First Sairy Ann picks on me
and then my own husband he picks on me, too. I'm jest distracted. I
don't want to stay and I don't want to go."

"Yo' 're as bad as McClellan," broke in her husband. "I've come ten
miles out o' my way just toe get yo' and take yo' home, if yo' don't
want toe stay yere. If yo' think yo' 'll be safer along with these
Yankee sympathizers, why jes' say so and stay yere. It doesn't matter
very much toe me either way. The only Yanks I can put up with are Jim
and Sairy Ann, and I wouldn't put up with them very long if we all
weren't members of the same family."

"I expect to be shot by the secesh, anyway," broke in Sairy Ann, "and I
hope yo' 'll go because I don't want to get shot by any o' my folks."

"We're goin' toe go," said the man.

To Noel's great relief preparations for departure were at once made.

It was not until the man and his wife had left, however, that the
mistress of the house brought the waiting young soldier his uniform.
Tossing it inside the room, she called out in a voice, which in spite of
its sharpness was not unfriendly, "There's yer soldier clothes. Yo' all
can put them on and come out and get your breakfast."

Only a brief time had elapsed before the summons had been obeyed by
Noel, and refreshed by the rest of the night and the clothes which Sairy
Ann had made thoroughly presentable, he entered the kitchen.

The tall form of the gaunt head of the house seemed to Noel to be even
taller than when he had first seen it in the dim light of the preceding
night. The expression of the man's face was so doleful that the young
soldier felt a fresh sympathy for the sharp-toned woman for whom her
husband's slow and undecided ways were a constant source of irritation.
As for Sairy Ann herself, Noel saw that her hair was of the tinge which
is sometimes associated with certain warlike propensities and also that
she was cross-eyed. Indeed, the young soldier decided that never before
had he seen any one whose eyes to all appearances might each serve the
duty and the place of the other. He was uncertain when she spoke to him
whether or not she was looking at him, and he was somehow aware that the
woman was keenly aware of the impression which she made upon him.

However, his feeling of hunger was now supreme, and as soon as he was
bidden to take his place at the table, he began to do ample justice to
the simple fare which was provided. The manifest curiosity of the woman
was to have no occasion for gratification until the meal was more than
half done. Then, unable longer to restrain her feelings, she abruptly
inquired, "Now, then, what yo' all doin' here?"

"Just now I'm doin' my best to get ready to leave."

"Did yo' all hear any voices this mornin'?" inquired Jim slowly.

Aware that the interest of the woman in his reply was keen, Noel said,
"Why, I heard some talk. Was there anything of special interest?"

"Naw. I reckon nothin' what would be interestin' to yo' all," said Jim.

"Hey!" exclaimed Sairy Ann suddenly. "Here comes the Jew peddler. He was
here day before yesterday. I told him then I didn't want anything, and I
don't see what for he comes around here pestering us again."

Noel looked up quickly as she spoke, and saw the peddler standing in the
doorway of the kitchen.

Instantly he recognized the trader as Levi Kadoff, the sutler whose
experiences in the camp had been of such a trying nature that he had
departed with many threats for the mischievous soldiers who had
tormented him.

He was positive that the peddler also recognized him, although not a
word was spoken by either.

Entering the room, Levi whiningly begged the woman to make some
purchases.

"I don't want nothin'," declared Sairy Ann. "I told yo' so yesterday and
day befo' when yo' were here. Yo' ought to take better care of yo'self
than to be here where there's so many soldiers so near. Suppose yo' got
caught right in the middle of the fight?"

"Dere vill be no fight," said Levi positively.

"How do yo' know there won't?"

"Because dere vill not be any."

"But how do yo' know?" protested the woman.

"Dot is vat der men says."

"What men?"

"All kinds of men. Now, please, mine goot voman, let me show you vat
fine spectacles that I have?"

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Sairy Ann, abruptly rising from
her seat and facing the little peddler. "Yo' ain't gettin' personal, be
ye? What makes yo' think I need glasses?"

"Spectacles is all der styles now. I sells more glasses to young vimmins
than I do to der old vimmins."

Appeased by the explanation, the hostess resumed her seat, and a few
minutes later, when the little Jew displayed certain ribbons in his
wares, Sairy Ann hesitated and was lost, much to the disgust of the
elongated Jim. She invested some "real Yankee money" in several strips
of bright yellow ribbon, doubtless selecting this particular color
because she fancied it would match both her hair and her eyes, for now
Noel was aware that even her eyes shared in the tawny color of her hair
and skin.

By the time the trading was completed, Noel had finished his breakfast
and was eager to be gone. He was desirous also of having some
conversation with Levi, when later the little peddler, after one
searching glance at the face of the young soldier, left the place and
Noel abruptly decided to go with him.

Thanking his hostess for her kindness in receiving and caring for him,
he shook hands with her and her husband and taking his cap left the
house.

Calling to Levi to wait for him to join him, he soon was in the road
where the sutler was standing. Advancing to his side, Noel prepared to
accompany the little peddler on his way, a decision which within a short
time he had cause deeply to regret.




CHAPTER XIV

THE SUTLER AS A GUIDE


"Vat you do here?" inquired Levi suspiciously as the two departed down
the road.

"That's just what I was going to ask you."

"You see. You see for yourself," repeated the sutler, pointing as he
spoke to the pack which he was carrying upon his back.

"What have you in that pack?"

"Somedings to sell."

"What?"

"Many dings."

"I shouldn't think you would have anybody to sell these things to, now
that both armies are so near."

"It is von beeg drouble," said Levi, shaking his head. "Dere vas no
chance. Eferybody cares not for mine laces--"

"'Laces!' I should think this would be the last place in the world where
you could sell such things as that," broke in Noel. "What do people down
here want of laces, especially when they are likely to be caught between
the two armies any time?"

"I lose money efery day," said Levi, disconsolately.

"Why do you stay, then?" demanded Noel. "If you cannot make any money,
you certainly don't stay here for pleasure, do you?"

"But," protested Levi, spreading both hands as he spoke, "a man has to
live, ain't it?"

"Levi, I believe you have lots of money," said Noel soberly.

"Nein! No! Not von penny."

"Then how can you live if you are losing money every day? You must have
something on which to draw."

"But I must live," protested Levi. "I must get some money. Perhaps I
don't got it to-day, maybe I gets it to-morrow."

"Where have you been, Levi, since you left camp?"

"I haf been just vere you sees me. I haf been to efery house, but nobody
buys mine laces. I dinks vot I haf to go North pretty soon. Nobody here
has any money."

"Have you seen anything of Stuart's cavalry?"

The quick side glance which Levi gave him, although the eyes of the
little Jew were instantly turned away again, was not lost upon Noel.
Always suspicious of the little sutler, he had now become sure that
there were more than suspicions upon which his fears rested.

"Who vas Stuart's cavalry?"

Noel laughed, but did not reply to the question.

"Haf you seen somedings of dot Irishmans?" inquired the peddler.

"What Irishman?"

"Dot young Irishmans vot tormented me. He upsets mine tent. He makes der
poys turn over mine trunks. He steals vot is mine, vot is mine!"

The fierce anger of the little Jew was almost pathetic, and despite his
declaration, Noel was aware that much justice, perhaps, was in his
complaint, in spite of the fact that he had charged the boys of the
regiment exorbitant prices for his poor and cheap supplies.

"Do you mean Dennis O'Hara?" asked Noel quickly.

"Dat vas it. Dat vas his name,--Dennis. Haf you seen him maybe?"

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

"How should I see him?" inquired Levi. "I haf leave der camp. I haf
nodings more to do mit der soldiers. I goes now from house to house."

"Have you seen him?" again asked Noel.

"I'm telling you," protested the sutler. "I don't go vere de Yankee
soldiers be."

"If you don't look out the Yankee soldiers will come where you are."

Noel spoke indifferently, but he was keenly watching the face of his
companion. The quick, shifting glance which Levi instantly gave him
somehow served to strengthen the conviction in the heart of the young
soldier that the little peddler was playing a suspicious if not a double
part.

"You didn't tell me," he said, "whether or not you have seen Dennis
O'Hara anywhere."

"I vould like mooch to see him. I vould like to see him mit a rope
around his neck. I vould like to be der von to pull on der rope. I vill
do so to him," he added in his excitement, as he stretched forth both
hands and pulled vigorously upon an imaginary rope.

"Here, where are you going?" demanded Noel abruptly, as his companion
turned from the road to enter a lane which led toward a house partly
concealed by magnolia trees far back from the road.

"To der house," answered Levi. "To der beeg house."

"Why are you going in there?"

"I vill sell somedings."

"It doesn't look as if anybody is home," suggested Noel.

The young soldier was striving to lead his companion on and draw from
him information which he suspected the little Jew possessed. As he spoke
he was keenly observant of the house and grounds, but as yet had not
seen any signs of life about the place.

"Der vas only vimmins dere."

"How do you know?"

"Because I vas dere de oder day. Dey vas tolt me dey vill buy somedings
ven I comes back. So now I'm comes back and I shall sell somedings."

"You say there are no men there?"

"Der men vas all gone mid der army."

"Which army?"

"How should I know?" demanded the peddler irritably. "I sells to der
vimmin."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Yes. You come. It vill interest der vimmins. You come mit me and I vill
go on mit you and show you der way to Frederick City."

Noel was unarmed, but he saw no reason to doubt the words of his
companion. If the place was deserted by the men he would be in no
danger, and, on the other hand, he might be able to obtain some food,
even if the women were sympathizers with the Southern cause. He was
aware that from many such people the sight of a man clad in the uniform
of the Union army was not likely to bring a cordial response. On the
other hand, he was unknown, and it might be that he could obtain food
and supplies that would help him through the day. He was confident that
if he went much farther on his way, he might have experiences that would
compel him to remain in hiding part of the time.

Slowly the two young men approached the great house. The house itself
was not so large, but the expression was one which was applied to many
homes, perhaps to distinguish the dwelling-place of the master from the
quarters of the negroes.

As he drew near, Noel saw in the rear of the house the quarters of the
servants. There were little huts that had been whitewashed, and about
the place were several little pickaninnies, whose presence indicated
that some of the blacks at least were at home.

The approach of the boys was apparently unobserved, and even when they
followed the winding pathway toward the rear of the house no one greeted
them.

Suddenly, however, Noel stopped, and looked in consternation at the
sight before him. Tied to the hitching-rail in the rear of the house he
saw a half-dozen horses.

Every horse was saddled and bridled, and in an instant Noel was aware
that he had come upon a small band of cavalry.

Startled as he was by his discovery he instantly stopped and, after
listening intently, turned back over the road which he and Levi had
come. As he did so, Levi suddenly dropped his pack and seizing the young
soldier by his coat began to shout in his loudest tones.

Frightened by the unexpected attack, Noel struck desperately at his
tormentor, and did his utmost to free himself. The little Jew, however,
apparently unmindful of the blows, clung desperately to his coat, and
before Noel was able to escape he saw a half-dozen men run out of the
house and start swiftly toward him.

One glance was sufficient to convince the desperate boy that he was in
the presence of some of the rebel cavalry. The men were armed, while he
himself was powerless to make any defense.

"What's this, Levi?" demanded the leader.

"Who is this man with you? Didn't I tell you not to let any one come
here?"

"Dis man is von Union soldier. He helps tear mine tent. He vas von vat
steals mine goots. He vas bad. I dinks dat you vill be glad to haf a
Yankee soldier here, maybe?"

"We'll take all the Yanks we can lay our hands upon," said the man with
a laugh.

It was plain that he was relieved by the discovery that there was only
one soldier near and he only a boy. The impression, however, produced on
Noel's mind by the action of the man was that there were Union soldiers
not far away. And yet, he thought bitterly, what advantage would that be
to him now? He was here, helpless to defend himself and really a
prisoner in the hands of the rebel cavalry. There were momentary visions
of Libby Prison, which he knew was the destination of most of the Union
soldiers taken by the Confederates in their recent campaigns.

The leader now turned to one of his men and good-naturedly said, "Tom,
we don't want to take this fellow into the house. I am afraid he would
scare the babies. I'll leave him out here with you. Don't let him get
away from you."

It was useless to protest, and Noel obediently followed his guard as he
led the way to the rear of the house near the place where the horses
were tied. The young soldier looked hastily about him to discover what
had become of the little sutler, but could not see him anywhere. Levi
must have entered the house, he concluded.

Noel's thoughts were bitter as he recalled how easily he had been
trapped. The sutler, without doubt, was in the employ of the
Confederates. Whether or not he had been, at the time when he held his
place in the Union camp at Harper's Ferry, Noel had no means of knowing;
but it was plain that he himself had been led by his guide into a place
from which apparently there was no escape.

When the soldiers reentered the house Noel seated himself on the ground
with his back against the post that upheld the rail to which three of
the horses were tied. In spite of his fear he looked with interest at
the mounts of the men. Every horse manifestly was fleet-footed, and in
better condition than one naturally would expect such horses to be at
such a time.

Little black faces began to appear, as the pickaninnies, led on by their
curiosity, slowly and cautiously advanced from their quarters to
discover for themselves what the meaning of the excitement was. At
another time Noel would have been interested, but now he gave slight
heed to his approaching visitors.

About fifteen feet from the place where he was seated there was a row of
beehives. The warmth of the September day had caused the busy little
creatures to resume their labors of the summer.

The sight of them recalled to the mind of the troubled boy the beehives
near his father's house and his thoughts naturally wandered from bees to
the people who were in the far-away home. He wondered if Frank had yet
returned to the army. He had been assigned to a different corps, and it
might be that he already was with McClellan. Would he see him at
Frederick City? The question received its own answer when Noel glanced
about him and saw the guard and the horses waiting for their riders.
There was slight prospect that he would see his brother very soon. Libby
Prison doubtless was to be his destination.

A half-hour had elapsed since Noel's arrival, and in spite of his fear
the droning of the bees sounded so monotonously in his ears that it
would not have been difficult for him to close his eyes and fall asleep.

Abruptly he sat erect and, facing his guard said, "How long are these
men going to be here?"

"I reckon yo' 'll have to ask the lieutenant, sir."

"How long have they been here?"

"I can't just say, sir."

"Do you know where they are going?"

"No, sir, I don't."

"Do you know what they will do with me?"

"I reckon I might suspect, sir. There have been a right sma't lot of
Yanks who have had free transpo'tation to Richmond. I reckon there will
be some mo', and it may be yo' will have a chance to ride along with
them, sir. It won't cost you a cent, sir. No, sir, not one cent."

"Do you belong to Stuart's cavalry?" asked Noel.

"I wonder what's the matter with the Yanks. They seem to be so full of
questions that the minute one of them opens his mouth they begin to pop
out the way corn pops in a popper."

Noel abruptly ceased his questioning, but, as he glanced once more about
the quarters, suddenly a scheme suggested itself to him, by which he
might be able to escape from his captors. If the plan was to be tried,
he must act at once, he decided, and, striving not to arouse the
suspicions of the guard, he slowly arose.




CHAPTER XV

WARLIKE BEES


Slowly, and striving to appear indifferent, although he was keenly
observant of every action of his guard, Noel began to pace back and
forth behind the row of horses. He was well aware that, in spite of the
apparent carelessness of his guard, he was watching his every action.
Any attempt on the part of the young prisoner to escape would at once
bring a shot from the soldier.

However, the guard did not interfere with the actions of his prisoner,
and a half-dozen or more times Noel slowly paced back and forth as if he
was simply striving to relax his muscles and was ignoring his
surroundings.

Not more than twenty feet away from the rail was the row of beehives to
which reference has been made. Several times the young prisoner stopped
and watched the busy little insects that were buzzing about the hives.
Glancing each time at the guard, he was convinced that any suspicions of
any plan his charge might have in mind as yet had not been aroused.
Apparently the soldier was so confident in his ability to meet any
sudden act that some of the time he was not even looking at the young
prisoner.

Noel's excitement became keener. He glanced toward the house to see
whether or not any of the Confederates who had entered were now to be
seen. Slowly he turned his head and looked once more at his guard. The
man was seated on the grass, and still to all appearances was
indifferent to the actions of his charge.

Suddenly Noel stumbled over the projecting root of a huge magnolia tree
and fell directly against the nearest hive in the row. With both hands
he struck and with such force that it was thrown against the hive next
to it.

"Better look out there!" called the guard, when Noel arose. "Some of
those bugs 'll bite you, if you don't watch out!"

Whether or not the "bugs would bite," the anger of the bees instantly
became manifest. In clouds they poured forth from the hives and the
sounds of their buzzing became louder.

Darting in every direction they soon discovered the disturber of their
dwelling-places, and, aware of their intentions, Noel hastily ran
toward the guard and the rail to which the horses were hitched. To all
appearances he had done this simply to avoid the pursuit of the little
tormentors. That he was acting on design, the guard did not even
suspect. The cloud of bees, however, did not all abandon the pursuit,
and as Noel halted near the horses, the furious little insects, without
rhyme or reason, began an attack upon the innocent animals.

Pandemonium instantly followed. The horses were rearing, plunging,
squealing, and kicking in every direction. The actions seemed to incite
the attacking insects to still greater anger. Nor was the guard himself
free from the onslaught. With muttered exclamations of anger and pain,
he was striving to ward off the little pests from his face or prevent
them from stinging him on his hands and wrists.

Noel was doing his utmost to bear up under the suffering he himself was
compelled to undergo. One bee had stung him on the very tip of his nose.
Another had attacked him under his right eye, while still another had
inserted his sting near a corner of the young soldier's mouth.

Noel could feel his face swelling, but he heroically strove to bear his
suffering, and, although he did his utmost to drive away his
tormentors, he nevertheless was relying upon the very attack that had
been made to assist him in the plan which he had formed.

In the midst of the confusion one of the horses broke loose, and with
many snorts of fear and rage started swiftly toward the lane.

The example was contagious and a moment later two more horses freed
themselves by breaking the straps by which they were tied and followed
in the direction in which the leader had disappeared.

"Catch them! Catch them! Help me! Catch them!" called the guard
excitedly. "Why don't somebody come out of the big house? I can't do
everything myself! Help me! Never mind the stings! Don't let those
horses get away! Rouse yourself, Yank!"

"I'll do my best," called Noel loudly, as he seized the bridle of one of
the remaining horses and apparently strove to quiet the terrified
animal.

The horse with which Noel was struggling was the one in the line which
he had noted as being undoubtedly the swiftest and best of them all.

"Whoa, there! Keep quiet! Be still, can't you?" he called as he slapped
the plunging horse on its neck and then on its flank as if he was
protecting it from the angry bees. Meanwhile, however, Noel had untied
the horse and was holding the animal by its bridle.

At that moment some of the Confederate soldiers, who had entered the
house, appeared at the door. Noel glanced anxiously at the men and then
looked at the guard, who was doing his utmost to prevent one of the
remaining horses from escaping.

The moment for which he had been waiting had arrived, the young soldier
decided, and whatever he did he must do instantly. There was no time to
be lost.

Looking once more toward the house, he saw the men call to those who
still were inside, and then turn as if they were about to run swiftly to
the place where the commotion was occurring. A single glance at the
guard showed him that the man's rifle had been laid upon the grass and
that he was still struggling with one of the frantic animals. Pulling
upon the bridle of his horse Noel quietly had worked the animal away
from its companions. His horse had been squealing and kicking more
frantically than any of the others. To all appearances Noel was having a
severe struggle to prevent him from breaking away and running in the
direction in which the other horses had disappeared.

The shouts of the men, who now were advancing from the house, increased
the confusion. Doubtless they were unaware of the source of the trouble
and might visit their anger upon him, thought Noel.

The time, however, did not permit of delay. He had now worked his horse
nearer the corner of the house. Suddenly the young soldier, placing one
foot in the stirrup, leaped lightly into the saddle, and shouting into
the ears of his horse, turned around the corner of the house before the
startled band were fully aware of what had taken place.

The bees were no longer in pursuit. The terrified animal, however, was
still making many frantic leaps, and Noel was compelled to exert the
utmost of his strength to retain his seat. His disappearance was
followed by a shout from the man, and only a brief time elapsed before,
glancing behind him, he saw that two of the men were mounted and now
were in swift pursuit.

His hopes now were dependent upon the speed of his horse and the
possible inability of his pursuers to shoot.

"Stop, you Yank!" called one of them. "Stop where you are! Stop, or
we'll shoot!"

Bending low upon the neck of his horse, Noel gave no heed to the demands
and continually urged the beast into greater efforts. With long and
powerful leaps the horse was bounding forward. The entrance from the
lane into the highway was now only a few yards distant. Out in the road,
Noel saw the horses which had already broken their halters and had fled
when the bees first had attacked them. He would have been glad to secure
either of them, but now his main purpose was to escape, and success
depended much upon the endurance of the horse he was riding.

As yet the men behind him had not shot at the escaping young soldier.
Grimly Noel thought they were more fearful of injuring the horse than
they were of harming him. However, there was inspiration in the thought
that thus far he had succeeded, and almost with a feeling of rejoicing
he turned into the road and urged his terrified steed into still more
frantic efforts. The pursuit was not abandoned, and he was aware that
the mounted Confederates evidently were as determined as was the fleeing
young soldier.

The speed of the running horse increased under the continued demands of
his rider. It was a powerful animal on which he was mounted, as Noel
was now aware, and if his endurance was equal to his strength there was
a possibility of escaping from the region.

A glance behind him showed that he was gaining upon his two pursuers, a
fact which was as manifest to them as it was to him. Suddenly one of
them fired. Noel heard the bullet as it whistled above his head.

[Illustration: NOEL HEARD THE BULLET AS IT WHISTLED PAST]

The pursuit, however, was not abandoned, and, leaning forward, Noel drew
himself closer to the neck of his panting steed, and then as he looked
hastily behind him he saw that both men were again about to fire.




CHAPTER XVI

A HELPER


The moment was critical in the flight of the young soldier. It seemed to
him as if his heart for a moment almost ceased to beat. Resolutely he
leaned still farther forward on the neck of the running horse, and
shouting into the ear of the animal caused the frightened beast to bound
to the opposite side of the road just as both of his pursuers fired.

Grateful as soon as he was aware that neither he nor his horse had been
hit, the young soldier gave his undivided attention for a moment to
controlling the terrified steed.

Noel's long experience on his father's farm on the banks of the St.
Lawrence River, where he and his brother Frank many a time as little
lads had ridden the colts bareback, now came in good stead. The saddle
was uncomfortable, but he had no difficulty in retaining his seat.

In a brief time the nervous animal once more was under control and was
speeding forward at a pace which the rider was confident would soon
leave his pursuers far behind him.

In his flight Noel hastily glanced over his shoulder to discover whether
or not the Confederate soldiers had abandoned the chase, or were still
determined to overtake him.

He plainly saw that they were not gaining upon him, although they still
held doggedly to the pursuit. Just why they should do this, now that
several miles had been covered, the young soldier was unable to
understand, nor was it until afterward that he came to know the reason
why the men, in spite of their failure to gain upon him, were unwilling
to turn back.

Noel was unarmed. His rifle had been taken from him when he had first
been made prisoner. Although he had a place, as we know, among the
sharpshooters of McClellan's army, it had not been until after his
return from his furlough that he had found himself fully able to do the
required work.

Now with all his heart he longed for a rifle. If it were only in his
hands he was convinced that the two men who were so doggedly hanging to
the pursuit would abandon their efforts.

The mud in places in the road was thrown up in lumps by the hoofs of his
horse as he thundered on his way. As yet the animal was not displaying
any marked signs of distress, and in the hope of wearing out his
pursuers, Noel still kept him at his full speed.

The splotches of mud and the heat of the warm September day soon made
the appearance of the young rider as distressing as that of the animal
upon which he was mounted. The great black flanks of the latter were now
reeking with sweat and discolored by the red-brown mud of the road. As
far as Noel himself was concerned, his most intimate friend might have
had difficulty in recognizing, in the perspiring, dirt-covered young
soldier the Noel Curtis whom they had known. Streams of perspiration had
poured down his face and left furrows in the coating of Maryland mud and
dirt. The exertion was telling upon the rider as well as upon the horse,
and he was well aware that such violent efforts could not long be
continued.

Glancing once more anxiously behind him, Noel was unable to see his
pursuers. He was aware, however, that it was only the bend in the road
that hid them from his sight and that not yet was he freed from his
peril.

Slackening the pace at which he was riding, the young soldier removed
his coat and folding it placed it in front of him on the pommel. The
relief was instant and again speaking encouragingly to his horse, which
now was breathing loudly, he continued his flight.

It became manifest in a brief time that the pursuit was still
maintained, although the distance between the young soldier and the two
Confederates comparatively was unchanged. Why they should continue to
follow him became increasingly a perplexing problem. There were no
prospects of his being overtaken, and now that five or six miles must
have been covered in his flight Noel was unable to understand why the
men did not turn back and join their comrades. He himself was not of
sufficient value to warrant their severe labors. Of that fact he was
well assured. Why, then, did they still follow him?

The mystery was unsolved, but there was no delay on the part of the
young soldier to meditate long upon possible explanations. The fact
remained that he was in a country with which he was unfamiliar, mounted
upon the back of a horse with whose ways he was unacquainted, although
he was aware of his many excellent points, and was being pursued
relentlessly by two men who doggedly held to their task.

Suddenly Noel, as he emerged from a small body of woods, beheld a group
of men directly in the road before him and not distant more than fifty
yards. Glancing keenly at the bank he saw that the men were repairing a
bridge over a little stream. A second look convinced him that the men
were all clad in the uniform of the Confederate soldiers.

For a brief moment Noel's courage seemed to depart. He could not turn
back without running directly into his enemies, while if he advanced it
was equally plain that there were many more still to be passed.

Unaware of the perplexing thoughts of his rider, his horse did not relax
his speed and with long and steady lopes was still advancing. Whatever
the young soldier was to do must be done quickly.

Almost before he was aware of what occurred Noel found himself close
upon the band. His coat, as has been said, was discolored and his
trousers were so covered with mud that their original color, in a
measure, at least, was concealed.

Suddenly the young soldier decided to try to make his way through the
band. He recalled an incident which he had read in the life of Mad
Anthony Wayne, who, with his men, in the swamp near Yorktown, found
himself face to face with a division of red coats that far outnumbered
his followers. The consternation produced by the discovery was banished
as Mad Anthony resolutely called to his men and dashed forward. The
daring man was relying upon the fact of his bold advance to convince the
enemy that there must be more men behind him. No man in his senses would
ever think of attacking such a superior force. After the British lines
had broken and fled, Mad Anthony turned and said to one of his comrades,
"The best way to overcome any difficulty is to drive straight through
it." This incident came back to Noel's mind as the trees and fields
seemed to be racing past him.

His confident approach, too, for he was waving his hand as he drew
nearer, seemed to confuse the band of Confederates. Instead of forming
across the road and stopping his flight, they divided and did not even
question him, although his appearance must have been such as to arouse
their curiosity at least.

Only partly checking the speed of his horse, Noel leaned low on his neck
and as he drew near the men, he shouted, "Don't stop me, boys! How far
ahead is the captain?"

Even as he asked the question Noel was aware that his own apparent
confidence had had its effect, for the men drew back from the roadside,
and one of them in reply to his query, shouted, "I reckon he's about
three miles up the road, sir."

"Good! That's fine!" shouted Noel in response. "There's some men coming
behind me and they'll stop to give you their message. They have a word
for you."

The ruse had succeeded, and the young soldier had accomplished more than
in his excitement he had dared to hope. He knew that his pursuers in a
very short time would be informed of his bold trick and perhaps would be
more determined than ever to secure him. But for a time, at least, he
had not been checked in his flight and he was not without hope also that
the two mounted men might be delayed long enough by the band, through
which he had successfully made his way, to enable him to gain still
more.

Noel had not advanced far beyond the sight of the bridge before his
sudden feeling of exhilaration vanished. He had been astonished at the
very success of the trick he had played. It was his first lesson that if
a man is to succeed he must be bold.

His rejoicing now abruptly departed, when, running and breathing
heavily, his horse suddenly stumbled and fell in the road. The young
soldier had been riding with too loose a rein and his moment of elation
had made him somewhat careless of the need of constant attention to his
steed.

Fortunately Noel was able to free his feet from the stirrups and was not
caught by the body of the horse as he fell. He was thrown to one side of
the road, but although he was bruised and for a moment almost stunned by
the sudden fall, he quickly rose.

Quick as his action was, however, that of his horse had been quicker.
After two efforts the fallen animal at last succeeded in leaping to his
feet, and, disregarding the frantic calls of its recent rider, started
forward, running even more swiftly than when he had been carrying the
young soldier.

In the midst of the fresh trouble which had arisen, Noel was aware that
his pursuers in a brief time would be upon him. Instantly turning to one
side of the road where some large trees were growing he darted into
their midst and soon discovered one tree sufficiently large to enable
him to hide behind it.

Scarcely had Noel succeeded in gaining his hiding-place before he heard
the sound of the approaching horsemen. Instead of two horses now,
however, there were five. The ruse which he had used upon the men at
the bridge had been discovered, and doubtless chagrin was added to the
natural desire to retake the daring man who had escaped through their
midst.

Would they pass the place or would they discover the mark in the road
left by his horse when it fell? Upon the decision of this question much
of his success depended. Breathlessly Noel watched the pursuing
soldiers, and a great sigh of relief escaped his lips when he saw that
they had not even glanced at the spot where the accident had befallen
him.

He deemed it unwise now to resume his flight in the road. He decided
that he would make his way from tree to tree, and as he peered out at
the road, which he could see extended far in the distance, he was
rejoiced to discover that the woods also spread out far on either side.
His plan was not to reenter the road until he had gone a distance which
would be sufficient to insure his safety from discovery by the men who
had recently passed him in their wild chase.

By this time the afternoon sun was low in the western sky. Not a
mouthful of food had passed the lips of the young soldier since his
early breakfast at the house of Jim and Sairy Ann. His strenuous efforts
also had wearied him, and thirst, as well as hunger, was now making its
demands felt.

An hour had elapsed when Noel, from another hiding-place far up the
road, saw the band of five returning. He was positive that he recognized
them as his recent pursuers from the fact that one of the horses was
strangely marked, a fact which he had noticed when he had first
discovered the animals tied to the rail in the rear of the house to
which the treacherous Levi had conducted him.

When at last the band had passed beyond his sight, and Noel, with fresh
courage, was about to reenter the road, he was startled when he saw a
young colored man approaching from the direction in which the riders had
disappeared.

Loud and long sang the negro and repeated the same stanza of the song
until Noel, who was interested as the black man came nearer, almost felt
that in spite of his difficulties he would join in the tune,--

    "Then I sot right down and felt very blue--
      Glory hallelujah, bress de Lord!
    Says I, O Lord, what shall I do?
      Glory hallelujah, bress de Lord!"

When the young black man came opposite the place where Noel was hiding,
the latter suddenly decided to hail him.

"Hello!" called the young soldier.

The negro stopped abruptly and peered about him in a manner which
betrayed to Noel that in intelligence he seemed to be far above the most
of his race.

"Who dat callin' me?" inquired the negro.

"I am," said Noel, as he stepped forth from his hiding-place.

The young soldier now was in his shirtsleeves, his coat having been lost
when he had been thrown from his horse. His uniform was so discolored by
mud that it was impossible for an observer to determine to which side he
belonged. However, convinced that his plight was so distressing that he
must trust some one, Noel had decided that he would cast in his lot with
the negro, and trust him to provide some way of escape.

"Have you seen any Union soldiers around here?" he called as he came
nearer.

Before he replied, the negro looked quickly into the face of Noel, and
then with a smile said, "No, suh. I wish I had. I would like toe be
inside the Union lines at dis bery minute. I reckon, too, yo' all would
like toe be in there, too."

"That's what I would!" said Noel enthusiastically. "And you'll have to
show me how to get there."

The black man hesitated a moment, and then said cordially, "The bes'
thing fo' yo' will be fo' me toe take yo' all toe Aunt Katie."

"'Aunt Katie'?" inquired Noel, as he glanced once more apprehensively up
and down the road. "Aunt Katie? Who is she?"

"Yo' come er long wif me and I'll done show yo'," replied the negro.




CHAPTER XVII

THE GUEST ROOM


The young negro at once led the way from the road, evidently fearing
more for the safety of his companion than for his own.

Noel followed obediently and did not speak until his guide had led him
far within the sheltering woods that were growing on each side of the
road.

The young soldier was not yet altogether convinced that his companion
was to be relied upon. His experience with Long John had made him
suspicious of the blacks. Throughout his boyhood he had never seen a
colored man, and it had not been long before the time of his enlistment
when he had beheld one for the first time.

The action of the powerful young negro with whom he was journeying,
however, in a measure relieved his fears, and his plight was so
desperate that he was aware that he must trust somebody for help. Night
would soon be at hand and in the darkness his perils might be greatly
increased.

At last, when a quarter of a mile or more had been covered by Noel and
his companion, the young soldier stopped, and said, "What's your name?"

"Nigger Sam."

"Did you ever hear of Long John?"

"Yas, suh!" replied Sam, glancing suspiciously at his companion as he
spoke. "What fo' yo' ask 'bout Long John?"

"I saw him back yonder."

"What fo' yo' see him?"

"Why, he led me into a trap. I thought I could trust him, but he took me
along a corduroy road to the very place where a lot of the rebel
soldiers were stationed."

"Yas, suh! Yas, suh!" said Sam, manifestly relieved. "Dat's des' what
Long John is er doin'. He's playing tricks on the Yankee soldiers all de
time. Little Ben Fowler des' used him lak I use de decoy when I shoots
ducks."

"How do I know you are not another one like Long John?"

"Because I'se a Yankee."

"You're a what?" demanded Noel.

"I'se workin' wif de Yankees. I des' made up my mind dey was de bes'
friends what I got. When a lot ob men leave home and come 'way off down
yere jes' toe set de niggers free, I done make up my min' dat I'd des'
do all I could fo' 'em."

"Where are you going now?"

"I reckon I'm goin' toe tote you toe Aunt Katie's."

"You know I'm a Union soldier, don't you?"

"I reckon I does. Leastwise I suspected so when I first heerd yo' talk.
If yo' all will tell me how yo' says de word ob dat animal what gibes
milk, den I'll sho'ly know."

"What do you mean?" inquired Noel sharply.

"I mean dat animal what we spell c-o-w. How yo' all done say dat name?"

Noel laughingly pronounced the word, and instantly his dusky companion
was satisfied with the claim which the young soldier had made.

"Yas, suh. Yo' all sho'ly is er Yankee. What I cain't understan', suh,
is what yo' all is doin' yere. The nearest place war dey is any Union
sojers is Frederick."

"How far is that from here?"

"Not so very far, but I reckon hit's too far away fo' yo' all toe try
fo' toe git dere to-night. De sojers is scourin' de country an'--"

"Do you mean Stuart's cavalry?"

"Yas, suh, and some mo' men besides dem. Hit's gittin' dreadfully hard
toe find yo' way in times like dese."

"Where are you going now?" suddenly Noel inquired.

"I'se goin' toe take yo' all toe Aunt Katie's an'--"

The young negro hesitated and again searchingly looked at his companion.

"What's the trouble?" inquired Noel quickly. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No, suh, I isn't 'fraid," grinned the negro. "Sho'ly not as long as I
hab a frind lak dis wif me," he added as he drew from a pocket inside
his coat a long narrow knife which was at least ten inches in length.
"Dis yere," grinned Sam, "is one ob de bes' friends what I got."

"What is it?" inquired Noel, extending his hand as he spoke.

"No, suh. I don' let dis friend of mine eber go out ob my hands. Not
eben fo' Gene'al Bu'nside."

"Where is General Burnside?" asked Noel.

"I reckon he isn't far 'way from Frederick City."

"Are you going to see him?" demanded the young soldier, suddenly
inspired by a new thought.

"Well, suh, I cain't jes' say 'bout dat," replied Sam as he thrust his
knife back into its receptacle. "I mought and then again I moughtn't."

"I believe you're going there," said Noel sharply.

"Dat's des' as may be," again responded Sam. "I mought and den I
moughtn't. Now, we hab been talkin' here long er 'nuff. If we all is
goin' toe get yo' toe Aunt Katie's we mus' be movin' along. I haven't
much time to stay yere any longer."

"How far is Aunt Katie's from here?"

"Not so very far," again responded the negro. "But I des' cain't lose de
time."

"Where did you come from?" abruptly inquired Noel.

"I des' came from down de road a spell."

"And you say you're going to Frederick City to report to General
Burnside?"

"No, suh. No, suh. I didn't say any such thing," replied Sam with a
grin. "I des' said that I mought see him."

"I believe you're taking word to him from some one down in this part of
Maryland."

Sam grinned, but made no reply.

The practice of using the blacks as spies or as means of obtaining
information was more prevalent than the young soldier was aware. Some of
the black men were keenly intelligent, and their stealthiness enabled
them to avoid many dangers to which the white soldiers were often
exposed. It was plain, too, that Nigger Sam, as he called himself, was
thoroughly familiar with the region; and he had said and done enough to
cause his companion to suspect that the purpose of his journey was more
than had appeared upon the surface.

Conversation ceased when the journey was resumed. Weary as Noel was by
the experiences of the day, it was with difficulty that he was able to
keep up with his companion, who swiftly led the way through the field
and across the occasional swamps.

The sun had disappeared from sight and darkness was creeping over the
land when at last Noel and his black guide arrived on the border of a
long stretch of woods.

"Yo' all stay right yere, suh," said Sam, "while I done go toe see if
Aunt Katie will take yo' in fo' de night."

"I don't want to stop at Aunt Katie's," declared Noel. "I want to go
with you. I'm sure you're on your way to Frederick City--"

"Hush!" said Sam sternly. "Yo' all don't know who may be hidin' in dese
yere trees."

The negro spoke in a whisper, but it was manifest to his companion that
his fears had been aroused and perhaps not without reason.

"Yo' all do des' what I says toe yo'," continued Sam. "Set right yere
behin' dis yere tree while I go toe see if Aunt Katie kin take yo' in
fo' de night."

There was nothing else to be done except to obey the directions of Sam.
Reluctantly Noel seated himself on the ground behind one of the large
trees, and the negro at once started across the field that intervened
between the woods and the little cabins, a faint outline of which could
be seen in the distance. Doubtless the little whitewashed structures
were the quarters of the negroes of the large plantation, Noel
concluded.

The weary young soldier leaned forward and watched the departing Sam as
long as he could be seen. In a brief time the young negro passed beyond
the nearest of the cabins.

A half-hour or more elapsed before Sam returned. Noel's anxiety
meanwhile had been increasing, and he was on the point of departing from
the vicinity, as he had become fearful that his guide might play him
false and report him to his enemies instead of to the colored woman to
whom he had referred as the friend of escaping whites and blacks alike.

The dim outlines of the approaching guide soon became more clearly
defined, and it was with a feeling of relief that Noel heard Sam say,
"Hit's all right, suh. Aunt Katie done say as how she will take yo' in.
Dere's one white man dere now, but she done say she can always find room
fo' one mo'."

When the two men approached the humble cabin, which Sam explained was
Aunt Katie's abode, there were no lights to be seen, and consequently,
when the black woman whispered to the guide, Noel was unable to
distinguish her face.

The whispering between the two continued several minutes, and then Sam
once more turned to Noel, who had been bidden to enter the cabin and
seat himself on a rude bench near the rear door, and said, "Is yo' all
hongry."

"Yes, I'm hungry," whispered Noel. "But never mind that. What I want is
to find some place where I shall be safe; that is, if you 're not going
to take me with you to--"

Noel abruptly ceased when he felt the grip of his companion on his arm
and was aware that he must not speak aloud concerning any of the men or
places he was seeking.

"Aunt Katie will feed yo' all an' then show yo' whar yo' kin stay 'til
mo'nin'. Yo' do des' what she done tells yo' toe do."

"I shall," whispered Noel; for his confidence in his dusky friends had
now been fully restored. He could not explain the change in his
feelings, but it had been manifest by the very tones of Aunt Katie's
voice that she was one upon whom he might depend.

"Yas, suh," continued Sam. "Maybe I'll done see yo' all some time soon."

Unaware of the direction in which Sam had departed, Noel's attention and
efforts were soon devoted to the corn-bread and molasses which his sable
hostess speedily provided.

Watchful as Noel was, his hunger nevertheless was so keen and he was so
busily engaged in the task of disposing of Aunt Katie's viands, that the
occasional chuckle of the black woman was wonderfully comforting. She
seldom spoke, but the young soldier was aware that his hostess was a
woman of ample proportions and capable of exerting herself physically if
occasion should require in a manner that would portend no good for her
enemies.

"Yo' all come 'long wid me and I'll take yo' toe de gues' room," said
Aunt Katie calmly, when her visitor's hunger had been appeased.

Puzzled by her words, Noel nevertheless followed the woman as she led
the way outside the little cabin. He was mystified by her actions and
was wondering where the "gues' room" might be. However, he wisely held
his peace, and cautiously following Aunt Katie soon was conducted to a
large stack of cornstalks standing near a corner of the barn.

Here the black woman stopped and, keenly peering about her to make sure
that their actions were not observed, turned to Noel and whispered,
"Inside dat er stack is whar yo' all is toe go. Dere am plenty ob room
in dere. Yo' all will find another sojer in dere, too, I reckon. I'll
show yo' all how yo' git in. Come er 'long."

Near the ground on the farther side of the stack Noel crawled into the
opening which Aunt Katie disclosed. In spite of the darkness he was
aware that the ground within was covered with cornstalks and that it was
possible for him to stand erect. Instantly he concluded that the stack
was more or less of a deception and was designed merely to cover and
conceal a small room.

His thoughts, however, were speedily interrupted by the voice of the
other occupant. In amazement Noel listened, scarcely daring to credit
the evidence of his own ears, and then convinced that he was not
mistaken, he instantly crawled toward the place from which the voice had
come.




CHAPTER XVIII

THE FIRE


"Dennis! Dennis! Is that you?" whispered the young soldier, as he gained
the place where the other occupant of the hiding-place was seated.

"Shure, and it's Noel! It's Noel, me lad!" exclaimed Dennis in high
glee.

"Hush! Don't talk so loud, Dennis! Somebody will hear us. What are you
doing here? Where did you come from? Are you going to try to go on to
the army to-night? Who brought you here? How long have you been here?"

"Listen to the lad!" exclaimed Dennis, delightedly, in one of his
loudest whispers.

Noel was more afraid of Dennis when he whispered than he was when he
spoke in a low tone. Accordingly he grasped his comrade's arm and said,
"Don't make so much noise, Dennis."

"Noel's the lad for me! He can ask more questions in a minute than any
man from the old sod could ask in five. Well, lad, I have been here
about two hours."

"Where did you come from?"

"You'll have to ask the people what brought me. I can't tell you, I'm
shure. I niver was in such a country and I hope I'll niver be again. I
wasn't so troubled about mesilf as I was about you, Noel, me lad. Tell
me about yoursilf."

"Hush!" repeated Noel. "Be still!" he whispered excitedly. "Do you hear
those voices?"

"Shure, I hear them."

"Well, keep still and see if we can find out what they are saying."

It was plain to both the listening young soldiers that a man, who, from
his tones and speech was undoubtedly white, was talking to a negro lad
standing near the stack within which the two young soldiers were hiding.

In a moment Noel recognized the voice of the little negro lad as that of
the son of Aunt Katie. The little urchin, not more than ten years of
age, had impressed the young soldier by the intensity with which he had
looked at him from the time of his arrival until he was conducted by
Aunt Katie to the place of his concealment.

Noel grasped fiercely the arm of Dennis as he heard the man outside
ask, "Have you seen any Yanks around here?"

"No, suh! No, suh!" said the small negro. "I ain't seen no Yankees
aroun' hyer."

"You are sure, are you?" repeated the man, not ill-naturedly.

"Yas, suh. Yas, suh."

"Do you think you would know a Yank if you should see one?"

"I shore would," replied the dusky child confidently. "Yo' all done tole
us dat de Yanks hab hawns. I ain't seen nary a man wif hawns 'round
yere."

"Have you looked for them?" laughed the man.

"Yas, suh."

"Well, if you find any you must be sure to report to me. Sometimes you
have to look right smart to find the horns on some of the Yankees."

"Does dey grow right out of dere haid like dis?"

"That's what they do, and their horns are sharp, too."

"Glory!" exclaimed the little negro. "I reck'n I don't want to see no
Yanks wif hawns. Is yo' all thinkin' dat dey is comin' yere sometime?"

"I think some of them have been here."

"What dey wan' hyer?"

"You ask Aunt Katie about that. I reckon she knows more about it than I
do. Are you sure, Little Jake, you haven't seen any Yankees that didn't
have any horns?"

"How would I know dey was Yankees if dey didn't hab any hawns? Yo' all
don' tole us dat de Yankees hab hawns, so when I sees a man what I don'
know I allus looks to see if he hab any hawns."

"If he does have horns, then you make up your mind he is a Yankee, do
you?"

"Yas, suh. Dat's what yo' all don' tole us, so I looks fo' de hawns."

"Well, the next time you find anybody in Aunt Katie's cabin whom you
don't know, you come and tell me, whether he has horns or not. I'm
expecting somebody to be in her cabin pretty soon. You're sure, are you,
there isn't anybody there now?"

"Yas, suh. You come 'long wif me," said the negro lad confidently, "and
I'll show yo' all dat dere ain't nobody in dat cabin 'tall, 'ceptin'
mammy."

"I'll take your word for it. Now, Little Jake, don't you forget to come
straight to the big house and tell me if you ever find any strangers
there, whether they have horns or not."

The conversation ceased, and with a sigh of relief Noel turned once more
to Dennis and said, "When do we move from here?"

"About midnight."

"Is Sam going to be our guide?"

"I don't know whether he is or not, but Aunt Katie told me that somebody
would come for us about that time."

"Do you know how far the Union lines are from here?"

"No, I don't," replied Dennis. "I think the best thing we can do is to
lie down here on these cornstalks and take a nap."

"But you haven't told me where you came from nor how you got here."

"'Tis a long story, lad, and I'm afraid to tell you here for fear
somebody outside will hear our voices."

"All right," responded Noel. "You can tell me after we leave. I think
we'd better do what you say."

Accordingly the boys stretched themselves on the earth which was covered
with cornstalks and in a few moments both were sleeping soundly.

Just how long Noel had been asleep he did not know, but he was awakened
by a vague feeling of uneasiness. Somehow he felt as if he were being
smothered, and for a brief time he was unable to decide just where he
was or why he was there.

The voice of Dennis in a hoarse whisper recalled to him the incidents
which had preceded the finding of the shelter within the strange
hiding-place.

"What's that?" whispered Dennis.

Noel saw that his Irish friend was alarmed, although as yet he was
unable to determine the cause.

"What is what?" responded Noel.

"'Tis smoke, I tell you!" said Dennis once more. "This place is on
fire."

"You have been dreaming," protested Noel, although even as he spoke he
was aware of the odor of burning wood.

"If I have been dreaming, I'm awake now," declared Dennis. "And the only
thing for you and me to do is to get out of this place."

"It isn't midnight yet."

"It's time to get up. The sooner we get out of here the safer it will be
for us both."

All this time Noel was sharing the alarm of his comrade. Not merely was
there an odor of burning wood, but there was no concealing the fact
that smoke was penetrating their hiding-place.

To add to his alarm, at that very moment there were sounds of men
running about near the shack, and then abruptly above the noise was
heard the voice of some one shouting, "Fire! Fire!"

The danger of meeting the owner of the plantation was not so great in
the mind of the young soldier at the time as that of being burned or
suffocated in the place where he and Dennis had been concealed.

"Come on, Dennis! Come on!" he called in a low voice, as instantly he
crawled toward the opening.

The place, however, had been closed after the entrance of the two boys
and in the darkness it was impossible at first for Noel to find the
exit. By this time his fears had been greatly increased and the sounds
of confusion outside were much more alarming.

Men were shouting and running about, and in the midst of it all were
heard the screams of the terrified children.

"Lad," whispered Dennis, "we can't wait to find the door. We must make a
break for it anywhere we can." As he spoke the young Irishman threw
himself with all his strength against the side of the little room.

Instantly the partition gave way and to the consternation of Noel the
entire structure collapsed. Both boys were buried beneath the
cornstalks, but it was only the work of a moment for them to free
themselves.

As they leaped to their feet they discovered that one of the little
whitewashed cabins, which they had seen the preceding evening, was on
fire. Surrounding it were crowds of colored people, and among them Noel
saw a tall white man, who he instantly concluded was the man whose voice
had been overheard by him and Dennis. Without question the man before
him was the owner of the plantation and the one who had warned Aunt
Katie's little boy against the "terrible Yankees with hawns."

Fortunately the collapse of the rude structure, within which a
hiding-place had been made for the escaping soldiers, apparently was not
noticed by the people on the plantation. It was evident by this time
that only the little cabin was doomed and that the fire without
difficulty would be prevented from spreading to the adjoining buildings.
Men in lines were passing buckets of water from hand to hand and the
flames promised to be under control in a brief time.

Convinced that there was no immediate danger now to be feared from the
spread of the fire, Noel turned to Dennis and in a low voice said, "We
must get away from this place before that chap sees us."

Even as he spoke, however, the man turned and instantly discovered the
presence of the two young soldiers.

As he advanced toward them both boys turned and fled from the place,
running swiftly, and hoping that the surrounding darkness would soon
hide them from the sight of the man whom they believed to be a friend of
the Confederate cause.

Unmindful of the direction in which they were running Noel and Dennis
fled at their highest speed, keeping well together until they came to
what seemed to be an abandoned cabin on the border of the plantation.

"We'll stop here and abide until mornin'," suggested Dennis, who was
laboring hard and breathing heavily under the exertion.

"No! No!" replied Noel. "We must not stop a minute. The only hope we
have is in getting as far away from the plantation as possible in the
shortest time."

"I can't go any farther," said Dennis; "I'm winded."

"What's that?" demanded Noel suddenly as he turned and looked toward the
plantation, which now was far behind them, but from which the glow of
the fires still could be faintly seen.

"'Tis nothin', lad. What is it you think you hear?"

"I thought I heard the dogs. If they set the dogs on us, we shall have
more troubles than we ever had before, Dennis," said Noel, speaking
rapidly and excitedly.

"I can't help it if they do set the dogs on us," muttered Dennis
sturdily. "I can't go any farther. My wind is gone, and my side is
thumpin' as if--"

"Here!" said Noel excitedly; "here's a well! I don't know whether
there's any water in it or not, but the thing for you to do is to hide
there. You can do it," he added abruptly as he stretched himself on the
ground and, peering into the depths, found that the old well was lined
with rough stones that projected unevenly from the sides. "Go down a few
feet and wait until the excitement is over."

"Will you come with me?"

Noel hesitated and then said, "No, I'll not stay here. There will be
more danger if both of us try to hide in the same place. I'll keep on,
and after a while you follow me and I'll be on the lookout for you, and
not very far ahead."

"See that you are," said Dennis, as he at once prepared to make his
descent into the forbidding hole which his companion had discovered.

Without waiting to discover what success attended his comrade's efforts,
Noel Curtis instantly turned and resumed his flight.




CHAPTER XIX

AT THE FORK


Noel ran swiftly forward in the darkness until at last he was compelled
to stop to recover his breath. As he looked behind him he saw that the
fire on the plantation manifestly was dying down. There was one spot of
dull red yet to be seen against the dark horizon, but the flames had
ceased.

For a moment he was tempted to turn and bid Dennis join him in his
flight; but his uncertainty as to the exact direction in which to return
to the old well, and his confidence that somehow the young Irish soldier
would be able to make his way through the surrounding difficulties
caused him to decide to continue his own flight.

The young soldier soon found himself in a road with which he was, of
course, unfamiliar. He also was ignorant alike of the location of his
friends and his enemies. For a brief time Noel tried to discover some
signs which would indicate the presence or the passing of bodies of
troops, but his efforts were unavailing, and at last he turned to his
left and started resolutely along the roadway.

Frequently the young soldier stopped to convince himself that he was in
no immediate peril. To his listening ears, however, no sounds of danger
came. The silence of the night was unbroken, and from the occasional
plantations not even the dogs betrayed any alarm at his passing.

Two hours or more had elapsed, and Noel now was beginning to feel the
effects of his labors. Only in a general way did he know where he wanted
to go, but his very ignorance had strengthened his nervous fear and he
increased his efforts to make haste.

Suddenly the young soldier was aware that a dense fog was settling over
the land. Almost like raindrops the heavy mist rested upon his face and
clothing. He was able to see but a short distance before him. What fears
or hopes might be concealed by the enfolding mist he did not know, but
his senses were alert, and he was keenly watchful as he moved forward in
the darkness.

He had not advanced far, however, when he came to a fork in the road.
Almost at right angles a road branched which plainly was traveled as
frequently as the one over which he had journeyed. Near the fork the
young soldier discovered a little cabin, about which he was striving to
make some investigations that would enable him to decide which road to
follow. The little building was near the side of the road, and as Noel
saw it he abruptly halted and listened intently for any sounds that
might betray the presence of people within it.

It was almost morning by this time, and though the fog was not
scattered, the light of the coming day presented a new aspect to his
surroundings. Cautiously the young soldier approached the little cabin.
The door was open, and as he came nearer he saw that there was no window
in the room. Apparently the place was deserted.

At last with renewed caution Noel approached the door and hastily
glanced within the building. In spite of the darkness he was convinced
that he was the only one in the place. His impression was strengthened
when he entered and found that apparently the room had not been occupied
for a long time.

So tired was Noel by the efforts which he had made in his flight that
the place appeared almost inviting. At all events, it was quiet and
peaceful and he flung himself on the ground and soon was sleeping
soundly.

The young soldier was awakened suddenly, and as he opened his eyes, at
first he was unable to say where he was. Rays of the early sunlight were
streaming through the open spaces in the walls, but stronger than the
impression produced by the morning was that of the sounds which he heard
from the road.

It was plain that horses and men were outside the building, and if he
could judge from the noise there were many of both.

Alarmed as Noel was by what he heard, he nevertheless quickly arose and
cautiously looked through the place where the window had been.

The sight which greeted his eyes was one which might well have startled
a bolder man than the young soldier. A troop of cavalry had halted at
the fork in the road and were preparing their breakfast. There were at
least fifty men in the band, and from their actions Noel concluded they
were in no immediate fear of discovery or attack. The men were not
noisy, but they were joking with one another, and plainly were
interested in the preparations which were being made for their morning
meal. Indeed, the odor of the bacon which was being broiled over the
several fires which had been kindled, made him aware that he, too, had
eaten little since he had fled from his pursuers early the preceding
day.

Occasional words were overheard, and it was not difficult for the young
soldier to conclude that the men before him belonged to a troop of
Stuart's cavalry, and that apparently they were in no immediate fear of
the Federal troops.

As the young soldier looked about him in the morning light he saw that
the building in which he had slept was old and dilapidated. One corner
of the roof had fallen, and the place was so small that no one passing
would believe that many could be concealed within its walls. At all
events, its appearance of desolation undoubtedly was his strongest
protection, he thought. Not one of the cavalrymen would think of
inspecting a place around which the bushes and weeds were growing and
within which no one was likely to seek refuge.

His admiration for the men before him became stronger as he continued to
watch their activities. Not only were they well trained, but their
horses were wonderful animals. Some of them showed the effect of the
labors of the campaign, but it was clear that both men and horses made
up a carefully selected body.

Noel, as has been said, was peering anxiously from one corner of the
little window. An exclamation of surprise almost escaped his lips when
suddenly he discovered two men approaching from the branch road, and he
was convinced that one was Levi, the former sutler in the camp at
Harper's Ferry, and the other was the husband of Sairy Ann's sister.

It became evident to the young watcher that the arrival of both men was
expected. At all events, an orderly ran forward to meet them, and it was
plain from the conversation which followed that neither of the newcomers
was a stranger to him.

Noel's desire to see and hear more became intense. Soon after the
arrival of the sutler and his companion, patrols were established in the
three roads. The chief comfort that Noel had at the time was the
conviction that his hiding-place, in view of the interest which the
arrival of the two men had created, was not likely to receive the
attention of the cavalrymen.

Except for a few faint snatches of the conversation of the soldiers,
Noel, despite his efforts, still was unable to overhear much of what was
said.

Occasionally words came to him, but for the most part they were
meaningless. The impression, however, which he received was that the
newcomers had brought information which was considered of importance,
for the men soon were hastily preparing to leave the place, although
they had not yet finished their breakfast.

By this time the fog largely had been burned away by the rays of the
rising sun. When a few minutes later the bugle sounded, the men mounted
their horses and in a body departed swiftly, leaving behind them both
Levi and his strange companion, whom Noel had first seen in the house of
the elongated Jim, the husband of Sairy Ann.

The two men sat on the ground near one of the fires which was still
burning, and over it was some of the food still cooking which the
soldiers had abandoned in their sudden departure. The conversation
between the two could be overheard more plainly, and as Noel listened
his interest became more intense.

"Here, don't yo' all want some of this yere bacon?" inquired Levi's
companion.

"I do not eat bacon."

"Why don't you eat it?"

"Because it vas unclean."

"It's as clean as anything you're likely to get in the next week or
two," laughed the man. "Now, then, Levi, what did you find out?"

"Just vat I tells you."

"Yo' 're perfectly sure about that, be yo'?"

"Yes," snapped Levi. "Now you tells me vat you haf found."

"Not very much. I was back here on the major's plantation, and he said
there were some Yanks at the nigger hut last night, but that they
couldn't find any trace of them this mo'nin'. One of the cabins burned
up last night, and the major thinks the men got away while all hands
were busy puttin' out the fire."

"How many did you say der vas?" inquired Levi.

"How many of what?"

"How many Yankees vere dere. How many got avay?"

"I don't know anything about that. I heard the major say he was sure
two, anyway."

"Yah, I knows dose men, I vas sure. Dey are de two men what robbed me of
mine goots. Dey push over mine tent. Dey say I charge too mooch. Dey
steals mine goots. Dot is vy I am no more some Yankee."

"A Yankee!" exclaimed his companion as he threw back his head and
laughed loudly. "A Yankee! Yo' 're about as much Yankee as yo' are
nigger."

"Not too far, mine friend. Not too far. You forget dot the brains of the
Confederacy is Jew brains--"

"That's a good one! That's a good one!" broke in Levi's companion. "Now,
then," he added more soberly, "are yo' all comin' on with me, or am I
goin' with yo' all? The captain said yo' all were to come with me. Do
yo' know where we're goin'?"

"I know vere ve vas going to try to go," said Levi. "Ever since dose men
push over mine tent and steals mine goots, I--"

"Well, if we're going, why don't we start? I have had all I want to
eat," broke in the other man.

Noel could see that neither of the men was clad in the uniform of the
Confederate army. His suspicions were confirmed that both were being
used by the rebel troops to secure information concerning the presence
and the actions of McClellan's army.

Noel was desirous of hearing the men speak more concerning their
immediate plans, but, although it was plain that neither was suspicious
that any one was near, almost instinctively they both lowered their
voices whenever they spoke concerning the immediate task which
confronted them.

An interruption was provided, however, by Noel himself. A sudden impulse
to sneeze became almost uncontrollable. In spite of his efforts to
repress the impulse Noel soon found that he was unable to do so, and
after several attempts a prolonged and agonizing sound came from the
hut, which instantly caused the two men outside to leap to their feet
and gaze anxiously at the little building.




CHAPTER XX

THE STACK OF STRAW


The little sutler was unarmed, but his companion carried a rifle, which
Noel had no difficulty in concluding was of unusual excellence. Grasping
the weapon in his hand, the man instantly stood leaning forward prepared
for the appearance of an enemy from the place from which the unexpected
sound had come.

The action caused Noel at once to draw farther back from the window,
although he still was watching the movements of his enemies outside. The
expression of consternation that appeared on their faces, as well as the
manifest fear of Levi, at another time would have caused the young
soldier to laugh heartily. As it was, however, unarmed, and wearied by
the labors of the preceding night, and facing one, at least, who would
not hesitate to use his rifle, there was no expression of mirth on the
young soldier's face.

"Vat's dat?" Noel heard Levi demand of his companion. The expression of
alarm on the face of the little sutler became more marked and he
glanced fearfully about him as if the sound might be repeated from some
other direction.

"Why don't yo' all go into the shanty and find out what it is?" drawled
Levi's companion.

"I haven't any gun."

"Well, I shan't let yo' have mine. I should not dare to trust myself a
minute here with my gun in your hands. Bad enough to be shot by the
Yanks, but if I should be hit by one who is neither fish, fowl, nor good
red herring, I think I would feel worse about it."

"You go and see who vas in dere."

"I'm a-goin' to," said the man in a low voice. "That's just what I'm
thinkin' of. I reckon yo'll find it's some nigger who's crawled in there
and gone to sleep."

As if in answer to the implied question there came at that moment from
the hut a sound not unlike the sneeze which had preceded it. This time,
however, the report was suddenly broken as if the guilty party had
stifled the rising sounds.

Terrified as Noel was by the action over which he had no control, the
young soldier nevertheless peered quickly from the corner of the window
at his enemies, whose consternation, he saw, was much more marked at
the repetition.

Both men were keenly observant of the little building, and it was
manifest now that Levi's companion was no longer hesitating.

Advancing boldly several yards nearer the little building he stopped and
in a loud voice said, "Who's in there? Come out and show yourself!"

[Illustration: "WHO'S IN THERE?"]

As no response was given his hail, the man waited a brief time and then
repeated his summons.

"Come along out o' that! It will be easier for yo' now than it will be
if I come in there toe get yo'. It's either fo' yo' toe come out
yo'self, or be dragged out by some one else."

Noel was preparing to obey the command when to his surprise he was
suddenly aware that both men outside were no longer looking toward the
building, but were eagerly watching somebody or something down the road.
Almost instinctively the young soldier followed their action, and his
fears were increased when he saw approaching from the distance a body of
troops. It was impossible, from the place where he was watching, to
determine whether the men belonged to the Confederate army or to his
own. There were several horses in the band, but whether or not it was
a cavalry troop that he saw he was unable to determine.

The men were approaching steadily, and Noel, aware that the attention of
Levi and his comrade had been diverted, at least for the moment,
suddenly darted through the little door, and without once glancing
behind him, at full speed started to cross the open field in the rear of
the hut.

He knew he would not long be hidden from the view of the men, but every
yard he gained not merely provided an additional incentive for effort,
but increased his possibility of escaping.

Without once glancing behind him Noel ran at his utmost speed, leaping
over the low rail fence as he came to the border of the field and then
heading directly for a stack of straw which stood in the middle of the
neighboring field.

As he drew near the weather-beaten pile of straw and glanced behind him,
it seemed to him that some of the men had started in pursuit.

He was, however, not positive, but his fears were sufficient to cause
him to run quickly to the opposite side of the stack and when he was
once more beyond the vision of his enemies he hastily climbed the heap
which was not more than fifteen feet in height.

The task was difficult because it was well-nigh impossible for him to
gain any firm foothold, but at last he succeeded and did not cease his
endeavors until he had gained the summit of the pile. Once there he
hastily tore the straw apart, which to his surprise was somewhat loose,
and burrowing into the depths soon made a hiding-place large enough to
receive him.

Noel's next effort was to tear away the straw which prevented him from
obtaining a view of the field over which he had fled, and when he had
succeeded in obtaining a peep-hole he saw that his fears were confirmed
and that some of the men were approaching from the road.

It was impossible for the troubled boy to know whether the approaching
men were searching for him or were planning to pass his hiding-place
without giving him any heed. The men were coming in an orderly manner,
holding well together, and there were many things to make the excited
young soldier hope that he was not the object of their search.

Tremblingly he watched the men as they came nearer and nearer, and when
at last a part of the body halted and began an inspection of the
straw-stack in which he was hiding, his alarm became great.

In the midst of these men he saw the little sutler, Levi, who was
pointing excitedly, first, back toward the road from which they had
come, and then toward the intervening distance between the place where
he was standing and a house far away.

In response to his appeals a hasty search of the straw-stack was made,
the soldiers moving in opposite directions until they had encircled the
place. An investigation then was made around the bottom of the pile,
apparently no one thinking of looking to the top where the young soldier
was concealed. It was evident that the men were in haste and in spite of
Noel's fear he was hopeful that they would not remain long.

His expectation was fulfilled, for, after the soldiers had circled the
stack and some of their number had tried to discover any possible
hiding-places around the base of the pile, the leader shouted, "Come on,
boys! We must not waste any more time here. We shan't get to the Gap
befo' every Yank has surrendered."

Noel was afraid to lift his head far above the place where he was
concealed. Nevertheless, when he heard the sounds of the hoofs of the
departing horses, he did venture to look out on the scene before him.

In a body the soldiers were speeding swiftly across the intervening
field without once glancing behind them. So interested was Noel in the
sight that the presence of the little sutler, for the moment, was
forgotten. Levi was not with the soldiers, and when Noel once more drew
down into his place of concealment his thoughts were chiefly concerned
with the departing enemy.

For a time the young soldier remained quietly in his hiding-place,
peering out through the peep-hole he had formed between the straws. He
was watching the road near the place where the little hut in which he
had hidden was standing. All the time he was fearful of the coming of
more men.

His fears were not without foundation, for within a few minutes another
band was seen approaching.

Tremblingly the boy watched them as they rode swiftly down the road, but
as they did not halt at the fork a feeling of intense relief swept over
his heart. It was manifest now that the men who had investigated the
straw-stack had turned aside from the regular course which the main
body was following.

The thought caused Noel once more to look in the direction in which the
men had disappeared. He was unable to discover their presence, however,
even the distant house toward which they had been speeding now being to
all appearances as harmless as the little cabin in which he had sought
refuge.

As we know, Noel's coat was gone and the remaining parts of his uniform
had been so discolored by his flight along the muddy roads that he was
not without hope that even if he were discovered his clothing would not
betray him. The boy was hungry and intensely thirsty. His mouth was
parched, and at the time it almost seemed to him that he could endure
his torment no longer.

The nearest place where he was likely to obtain relief was the farmhouse
in the distance toward which the investigating party had fled. Noel
convinced himself that he would incur no risk if he should follow in the
same direction, for doubtless the soldiers would not remain about the
place; at least, their conversation implied that they were in haste to
arrive at some "Gap." The location of any such place was entirely
unknown to him.

After he had waited several minutes more, Noel finally decided that he
could endure his sufferings no longer. His eyes, ears, and nose seemed
to be filled with the dust that had accumulated for months in the
neglected stack. His muscles were cramped and sore from remaining so
long in one position, as he had not dared to move, for fear of causing
some of the straw to slide from its place.

At last he decided that he would attempt to find relief at the far-away
house. Slowly and cautiously he climbed from the hole in the stack,
frequently pausing to look up and then down the road and make sure that
his actions were not observed. As soon as he was convinced that the road
was free from his enemies he quickly slipped over the side. As he struck
the ground an exclamation escaped him when his fall was broken by the
body of a man directly beneath him.




CHAPTER XXI

THE CARPET-BAG


Noel was conscious of a low cry from the man upon whom he had fallen,
and then instantly each savagely clutched the other. There was a
struggle, which was short and violent, and Noel found himself holding to
the ground the body of Levi, the sutler.

"Father Abraham!" ejaculated Levi. "Father Abraham! Let me up! Let me
up!"

The surprise of Noel, when he discovered who his captive was, did not
detract from his inclination to laugh as he heard the exclamations of
the little sutler.

Without rising and still holding his prisoner fast to the ground, Noel
said, "What are you doing here, Levi?"

"You vill let me up and I vill leave so quick you shall not see me."

"Before you go I want to know what you're doing here. Were you spying on
me?"

"Not von leedle bit. I deed not know you vas here. Father Abraham! Vot a
pinch you gif mine arm!"

"You want to be thankful it was only your arm, Levi. Now you tell me
what you were doing here!"

"I vas chust stopping for to see vich vay the men vas going."

"What men?"

"Der men vot vas soldiers for the Johnnie Rebs."

"Did you find any of them?"

"Yes, I see some going up mit der road. Dey vas all gone, and den I
starts for der house over yonder for to sell somedings vot I carry in
mine bag."

"I believe you knew I was here all the time."

"Nefer did I know you vas here. Father Abraham! I vish you vere not here
now. If you vill be gone I too vill go so fast you shall not see me in
two minutes."

Aware of the perils which recently had threatened him, Noel was not
inclined either to prolong the interview or to compel his prisoner to
remain longer on the ground. Grasping the little sutler by his shoulder
Noel quickly yanked him to his feet, but without relaxing his grasp.

"Levi, what have you got in that bag?" he demanded.

"Somedings vot I sells to the vimmins ven der men vas gone off to the
var. Dot vos all. You shall belief mine vord. I chust carry somedings
vat cannot be had ven the armies vas so near by."

"Let me see what you have," suggested Noel, as, compelling his prisoner
to advance with him he moved toward the bag which Levi had left on the
ground near the base of the straw-stack.

"No, I shall not do so!" screamed the little sutler. "You shall not open
mine bag. It vas mine."

Noel's suspicions, greatly increased by the manifest alarm of the
sutler, were almost strong enough to induce him to send his prisoner
away and appropriate the bag. From the expressions he already had heard,
he was aware that Levi was playing a dual part, or at least he believed
him now to be in the employ of the Confederates.

Before he acted, however, he turned once more to his prisoner and said
sharply, "How long since you have been inside our lines?"

"I do not go in der lines of der Yankees," protested Levi. "Dey vas
steal mine goots. Dey vas take vat vas not theirs. I lose more nor two
hundred dollars ven you and dot Dennis tear mine tent and tip ofer mine
goots."

The expression of hatred which appeared upon the sutler's face when he
referred to Dennis strengthened the conviction in the heart of Noel that
his prisoner certainly did not entertain any cordial feelings for the
boys in blue.

Noel, boylike, unmindful of the justice of the little sutler's
complaints, was greatly angered at the treachery of his comrade.

"How long since you have been in the Confederate lines?" he demanded
sharply.

"I do not go dere either. I have tolt you vat mine peesness vas. I sells
mine goots to the peoples vat may be at home."

"All right, then," said Noel. "You let me see what is in your bag, and
I'll believe you."

"I shall not trust von Yankee soldier!" screamed Levi. "You shall not
open mine bag. I haf already had mine droubles mit der Yankees. Dey
tears mine tent and tips ofer mine goots and steals vot vas mine. I
shall not open mine bag for you yet von leedle bit."

"Too bad," said Noel, more soberly. "Then I shall have to open it
myself, I suppose."

"No! No!" screamed Levi in tones still shriller. "Father Abraham!
Father Abraham! I shall call for some helps!"

"Levi," said Noel abruptly, "I think I shall send you away and take your
bag myself."

"You shall not do so!" protested the sutler noisily. "You shall not take
mine bag! It vas mine, I dells you! It vas not yours. You shall not have
it."

"Then let me see what there is in there."

"If I open mine bag von leedle bit, you vill take vot is not yours. I
haf known you. You are von of dose Yankee soldiers. Dey tears mine tent
and tips ofer mine goots and takes vat vas not theirs. I shall not gif
you von chance, not even one leedle bit of a chance."

"I'm sorry," said Noel, "but I'm afraid, then, that I shall have to take
it myself." As he spoke Noel moved as if he was about to seize the bag,
and instantly the little sutler, rushing savagely upon him, began to
kick and strike, and before Noel was prepared to resist the sudden
onslaught Levi bit him severely on the hand.

Aroused by the sudden attack and maddened by the pain which Levi's bite
had caused, Noel flung the little sutler far from him and eagerly
watched him as he rolled over upon the ground.

Almost as nimbly as a monkey the sutler leaped to his feet, and instead
of trying to run from the place started once more fiercely at his enemy.

Noel was prepared for the attack now, and as Levi ran savagely upon him
he thrust out his right foot and, at the same time giving him a hard
push, sent him once more sprawling upon the ground. This time he did not
wait for the sutler to recover from his fall but at once advanced and
seized his carpet-bag.

The sight of his possessions in the hands of Noel again proved too much
for Levi's feelings. In a thin, piping voice he screamed, "Father
Abraham! Father Abraham! You shall not steal from mine bag. It vas not
yours. You vas like some of dose Yankee soldiers. Dey tears mine tent
and tips ofer mine goots and takes vot vas not theirs. I shall shoot!"

Startled by the threat, Noel glanced keenly at Levi, who was almost
beside himself with rage, to see if any weapons were upon his person. He
had not thought of the sutler as one who would carry firearms of any
kind. The man was undersized and was lacking in physical strength. Noel
had never thought of him other than as a weakling and one who might
obtain his way by deception rather than by force. The thought that he
might be armed was startling, and before the man could act Noel leaped
forward and, seizing him again, threw him upon the ground, where he
satisfied himself that no pistols were in his possession.

"You go back from here the way you came," ordered Noel as he swung his
prisoner in his arms and, giving him a violent push, sent him in the
direction he had indicated.

But Levi was not to be so easily turned aside from his purpose. Once
more he leaped toward his tormentor, who now had taken the carpet-bag in
his hands and stood facing him. Screaming, chattering, lamenting, Levi
would have been a pathetic object under other circumstances. But Noel
was so thoroughly convinced that in the bag which he held in his hands
he would find something of value to the leaders of his army that he was
determined now to investigate the contents and compel the little Jew to
give it over.

Levi's screams of impotent rage and his childish attempts to compel Noel
to relax his hold upon the bag were alike without avail. At last the
young soldier said more sternly to the angry sutler, "Levi, if you know
when you are well off you'll leave this place as I told you. Now, go!"

There was something in Noel's voice that caused Levi to heed the
command. Tears were coursing down his cheeks and his two little fists
were working very much after the manner of a pump-handle when he saw the
expression on the face of his captor, and, aware that further efforts
would be useless, he abruptly turned away and, without once glancing
behind him, sped swiftly toward the fork in the road from which he had
come.

For a brief time Noel watched the man as he sped across the field, and
then suddenly, aware that his own problems were sufficient to demand his
entire attention, he turned toward the house in the distance.

He had expected to learn from Levi the direction in which the Union
troops might be found, but his sudden determination to investigate the
carpet-bag, as soon as he discovered that it was not heavy, had changed
his plans. Levi was gone and if he possessed the desired information he
had taken it with him.

And yet Noel Curtis was aware that his own predicament was such that if
other bodies of the Confederate cavalrymen should soon pass along the
road, Levi would be able to inform them of what had occurred. If his
suspicions were correct, that the contents of the carpet-bag were of
considerable value, there would be an added incentive for the little
sutler to rescue them.

Perhaps Noel's decision to start toward the house which he saw in the
distance was formed simply because it was the only place within sight
which indicated the presence of people. His own plight now was such that
he keenly felt the need of food and drink. No little streams were near
him, and as for food there were no indications that the shallow soil
itself had produced any of late.

His determination once fixed, Noel, with the carpet-bag firmly grasped
in his hand, moved swiftly across the field toward the distant house.

Twice he stopped and looked back to see whether or not Levi had held to
his course. Once he saw the little sutler, but he was moving steadily
toward the fork in the road. The second time Noel looked he was unable
to see the man anywhere. Concluding that Levi had sought the little
building in which he himself had found shelter a short time before,
Noel's efforts increased, and he ran swiftly toward the place he was
seeking.

When Noel drew nearer the house he was aware of the aspect of neglect
and even of dejection that was manifested by every living object within
his sight. The two dogs, which came out of the building as soon as they
were aware of his approach, were mangy and spiritless. Even the few
chickens in the yard seemed to be affected by the general air of
desolation. The fence was broken in many places, the gate was lying flat
upon the ground, and as for paint or whitewash, it had been long since
the house or barns had seen anything of that kind.

The young soldier halted a moment to make certain that no enemies were
near the plantation. Satisfied that his fears for the time were without
foundation, and still holding firmly to the carpet-bag which he had
taken from the little sutler, Noel boldly approached the kitchen door.
His purpose now was merely to obtain food, and then to push forward on
his way to rejoin the army from which he had been separated so long.

Advancing boldly, he rapped loudly upon the door, which sagged like
everything else about the place. All these things were forgotten,
however, when he looked into the face of the person who answered his
summons.




CHAPTER XXII

A MYSTERY


Before him stood the sister of Sairy Ann, whom he had heard the latter
address as 'Liza Jane. That her sympathies were not with the side for
which he was fighting Noel well knew, but his great fear as he saw the
woman was that her husband might not be far away.

Noel recalled the contempt with which Sairy Ann had referred to her
sister as one of the "secesh," and, in spite of his alarm at the
discovery of her presence, he smiled as he recalled the sharp
declaration of Sairy Ann that in her will she had left her shoestrings
to her "beloved sister, 'Liza Jane."

Before he spoke Noel quickly decided that he would try to find out
whether or not the woman recognized him. He did not believe that she had
seen him when he had been in her sister's house, and yet it was
impossible for him to determine whether his confidence was well founded
or not.

To all appearances no man was near. What he had taken for the "big
house" of a plantation when he had seen the place in the distance, he
now saw was only a bare habitation, and the "plantation" had decreased
to a few uncultivated and unfruitful acres. The appearance of the woman
herself was not unlike that of her surroundings.

"Well," demanded Eliza Jane, "who be yo'? Whar do yo' all come from?
What be yo' all doin' here?"

"Is your husband at home?" inquired Noel.

"No; he ain't to home. What do yo' want toe see him fo'?"

"Oh, I don't want to see him; I just wanted to know whether he was here
or not. In fact I don't want to see anybody just now," continued Noel,
smiling in such a way that the suspicions of the questioner were
apparently relieved in part.

"Has Levi been here lately?" asked Noel abruptly.

"Maybe he has and maybe he hasn't," said the woman. "I can't keep track
of Sam Tolliver's doin's. He has all kinds of men here. Who is Levi?"

"Why, he is a little sutler that used to be in the Yankee army and now
is doing what he can for--"

"I reckon he's been here," spoke up the woman promptly. "What might yo'
all want o' him?"

"I don't want anything of him just now," said Noel, his face again
lighting up with the smile which won him friends on every side. "What I
want now is something to eat. I'm as hungry as a bear and almost as
thirsty as I am hungry. Can you help me? I shan't be able to pay you--"

"Who said anything about payin'?" broke in the woman. "I ain't got much
fo' toe eat, but I reckon pa't of what I has is fo' yo' all. Come in and
set ye down at the kitchen table and I'll see what I can do fo' yo'."

Too hungry and thirsty to delay, Noel promptly accepted the invitation,
and after he had washed his face and hands, he eagerly took his place at
the table as the woman directed.

The young soldier was well aware that he was in the midst of perils. If
the husband of his hostess should return or Levi should come, his
position was not one to be envied. Not that he was afraid of either of
the men in a personal encounter; but he was unarmed, while the man whom
Eliza Jane had called Sam Tolliver was doubtless thoroughly armed and
desperate. Besides, if he was playing the part which Noel suspected, and
was obtaining information concerning the plans and movements of the
Federal troops and reporting the knowledge to the leaders of the
Confederates, he was well aware that the man was one to be feared.

Noel's meditations were interrupted by the approach of his hostess who
placed some corn-bread and a small jug of molasses upon the table before
him.

"'Tis about the best pore folks can have these days," she said. "I don't
know how I happened to save that ther' molasses, but Sam never likes his
co'n-bread unless he can po' molasses over it, and we had a barrel put
in the cellar before the Yanks started all this trouble."

"I don't want to rob you," said Noel.

"Who said anything about yo' robbin' me? I reckon I haven't got much
that would pay any robber toe take. If yo' all don't like that molasses,
why, jest say so."

"I do like it," said Noel, "and I am grateful to you for giving it to
me."

Without further delay the young soldier at once began his breakfast, all
the time aware that the woman was watching him with an expression which
gave evidence that her feeling was more than mere hospitality.

Finally, unable to resist her curiosity longer, she broke in: "What pa't
of the No'th do yo' all come from?"

"How do you know I am from the North? What makes you think that?"

"Jest as soon as I heard yo' all talk," said the woman, "I knew yo' was
a Yank. Strange how queer th' Yanks talk."

Noel laughed and did not give expression to his own feeling that the
dialect that he had heard in the South had impressed him much the same
way as his hostess had been impressed by the voices and words of the
Northern soldiers.

"I reckon," she continued, "that yo' all are one of McClellan's men,
though what yo' all are doin' over yere is more than I can understand.
Yo' all are not looking fo' my man, Sam, are yo'?"

"I assure you that I am not," said Noel promptly. And the young soldier
spoke honestly, for of all men Sam Tolliver was the one he least desired
to see at the time.

"Run away from the army?" inquired the woman.

"No."

"Well, then, what are yo' all doin' out yere? I see yo' ain't got no
coat, but in spite of the dirt I can see that yo' pants is the same as
all th' Yankee soldiers wear."

"How far is the Northern army from here?" inquired Noel, without
answering her question.

"That's more than I can say. Sometimes they say it's in one place and
then again they say it's in 'nother. If Sam was here he could tell yo'.
Sam knows more than any man I ever see."

Noel did not explain his suspicions that Sam's knowledge included some
things which he knew and some things which he did not know.

"I don't suppose you see very much of him now," he said aloud.

"Not as much as I used toe," said the woman, "though befo' the war Sam
used to go out with houn' dogs and be gone days at a time huntin'
rabbits. He was a pow'ful good shot."

"He must have kept you pretty well supplied with rabbits," suggested
Noel.

"Sometimes he did and sometimes he didn't," replied Eliza Jane.
"Sometimes the pesky little varmints would get away befo' Sam had a
chance toe fire. They seemed toe know that he was a dead-sure shot."

Noel's suspicions as to the prowess of the wonderful Sam once more were
not voiced. He was content if only the woman would feed him and permit
him to depart without further trouble.

"Sam says," continued the woman, whose readiness to talk was manifest,
"that there isn't goin' toe be much left o' the Yanks pretty quick. He
thinks there is goin' toe be some fightin' befo' long and the Yanks will
get whipped worse 'n they were at Manassas. I would jes' like toe see my
sister, Sairy Ann. I wonder what she'll think of the secesh then. She
can keep her old shoestrings if she wants 'em! You know she's my own
sister and she's worth a lot of money. Befo' the war she had nigh on toe
two hundred dollars. Think of Sairy Ann leaving me in her will nothin'
but her shoestrings! I believe she joined the Yanks jest a purpose so
she could turn ag'in her own relations. Shoestrings!" snapped the woman,
whose recollection of her sister's generosity renewed her feeling of
anger.

By this time Noel's hunger had been appeased in a measure and he was
eager to be gone. Before he arose from his seat at the table he turned
again to his hostess and said simply, "Do you know where the Northern
army is?

"I done tole yo'," she replied tartly, "that sometimes 'tis said toe be
in one place and sometimes in another."

"Where is it reported to be now?"

"I can't say. Now, if Sam was home--"

Without waiting for further enlightenment as to the knowledge and
ability of the missing Sam, Noel said, "Well, if you cannot tell me
where the army is, you can tell me the road to take."

"No, I can't. Yo' all might take mos' any road an' the first thing yo'
know yo' would run right into McClellan's troops, an' then ag'in yo'
might run intoe General Lee's."

"At all events," said Noel, "I'm grateful to you for your kindness to
me. You have taken me in, and though I was a stranger--"

"But I ain't been entertainin' no angel unawares," snapped the woman.
"You don't look to me very much like a angel, with that mud on yo'
pants. I am thinkin', too," she added, as she glanced out of the window,
"that it might be well fo' yo' toe start right soon, that is if yo' 're
goin' toe go."

"What's the trouble?" demanded Noel, leaping to his feet and running to
the side of the woman, where he looked anxiously out of the window.

The statement of Eliza Jane was correct, for a small body of men was
moving in an orderly manner up the road. Noel watched them with keen
interest, and at first was unable to determine to which side in the
conflict they belonged.

His interest changed to alarm when he saw the men abruptly halt, and
then, at the command of their leader, turn into the yard leading
directly to the house.

The woman by his side had not spoken, but when she exclaimed, "Them's
Yanks," Noel also made the discovery at the same moment. The approaching
men belonged to his own army, and in the thought of being once more
among his friends and comrades the heart of the young soldier suddenly
was lightened. Rushing to the door he ran across the yard to meet the
boys in blue.

To his consternation as he drew near, he discovered that Dennis was
among the number, and also that he was a prisoner. Just what this meant,
Noel was unable to conjecture, but his interest in his comrade was
speedily banished when to his amazement he saw Levi, the little sutler,
also in the company, talking eagerly to the captain and pointing
excitedly toward Noel as he spoke.




CHAPTER XXIII

THE GUARD-HOUSE


The subject concerning which the little sutler and the captain were
conversing soon became manifest to Noel. The officer turned sharply to
him, and as he did so the young soldier was no longer able to discover
the presence of Levi in the band.

"There's no use in your trying to get away now," exclaimed the officer.

"'Get away!'" responded Noel, astounded by the suggestion. "That's the
last thing in the world I want to do! I have been looking for you or
some of the boys in blue for more than--"

"That's a likely story!" interrupted the young captain. "You can explain
that to the colonel after we are back in the lines."

"I'm perfectly willing to explain it to the colonel," declared Noel.
"And I'll explain it to you now."

"There's no use in that. I'm afraid your explanations won't do you any
good."

"What do you think I am?" demanded Noel angrily.

All the men in the band now were listening intently, and Noel was aware
that he was under a cloud that might not easily be dispelled.

"I know what you are. You are a deserter."

In spite of the charge Noel laughed, but he was sobered instantly when
he saw that every man before him firmly believed him to be what the
officer had charged.

"I'm no deserter!" declared Noel hotly. "I happened to be outside the
lines at Harper's Ferry and the Rebels took me. I have been doing my
best to get to the army ever since."

"You look as if you had been trying," sneered the officer. "Come on.
There's no use in talking any more. You come with us and we will turn
you over to the colonel."

"Is that man a deserter, too?" inquired Noel as he pointed to Dennis.

"He is. 'Birds of a feather flock together,' I guess that's why we found
two of you to-day. There must be a baker's dozen of them altogether. I
don't know what will be done with you, but I can tell you one thing, you
aren't going to lie on any bed of roses to-night after we get back."

"What makes you think I'm a deserter?" said Noel persistently.

"I don't 'think'; I know. We have absolute proof. Your name is Noel
Curtis, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied the young soldier in surprise.

Instantly, however, he concluded that Levi must have revealed his name
and the source of the officer's knowledge, therefore, was not unknown.

"We cannot stay here any longer," continued the officer emphatically.
"Take your place in the ranks with your friend. Do you know who he is?"

"Indeed, I do!" said Noel, somewhat defiantly. "He and I both belong to
the sharpshooters of the --th. You ask Colonel Crawford about us and
he'll tell you all you want to know. 'Deserters'! Why, man, we 're no
more deserters than you are. We have been trying ever since we left
Harper's Ferry--"

"You don't seem to have made very good time even if you did try,"
sneered the officer again. "Your story sounds fine, but when the colonel
listens to what you have to say and then compares your story with the
one Levi has to tell, he may have something to say about it himself."

Apparently it was useless longer to try to persuade the captain. When
Noel saw the expression on the face of Dennis and was aware that the
young Irishman also had failed to plead his cause successfully, he was
somewhat heavy-hearted.

"I'll go with you," he said quietly.

"That's mighty good of you," laughed the officer. "You might take your
place in there with the other deserter and we'll try to see to it that
you don't get very far away again. My advice to you is not to try any
more of your tricks."

For a moment Noel looked steadily into the eyes of the sneering young
officer. He was furiously angry, and withal was more seriously troubled
than he was willing to acknowledge even to himself. Because the men
under whom he had served were not now in the vicinity it would be
difficult for him to find any one who could recognize him. His father
had once met General Hooker, a fact which Mr. Curtis frequently enlarged
upon in talks with his boys, but even if admittance could be had into
the presence of the general, which was not at all probable, it would not
identify the young soldier who was charged with deserting.

Obediently Noel advanced to take the place which had been assigned to
him, and as he did so he glanced back at the house, and saw Eliza Jane
standing in the doorway and watching with manifest interest the
activities of the soldiers whom she professed to hate.

Noel was quite certain that he had a momentary glimpse of Levi standing
behind the woman, but of this he could not be positive, as the face
speedily vanished and did not again appear. At all events, the
treacherous little sutler was not to accompany the men on their way back
to camp and, fearful alike of his absence and presence, Noel was in dire
straits when at last the command to advance was given and by the side of
Dennis he obediently fell into step and marched with the men.

A sound like distant thunder caused Noel to look up hastily. He had
heard the sound several times, but as the sky was clear and there were
no thunder clouds anywhere to be seen, he had been somewhat puzzled by
the rumbling in the distance.

"I guess the boys are up and at it ag'in," suggested Dennis in one of
his hoarse whispers.

Startled by the suggestion, Noel glanced sharply at his companion and
said, "Fighting?"

"That's what it sounds like."

"Silence in the ranks!" ordered the captain sharply, and both young
soldiers became silent as the little band marched forward.

The threatening sound was occasionally repeated, and then after a
half-hour or more had elapsed it died away and was not heard again.
Ignorant of its cause, Noel's fears were not relieved. The suggestion of
Dennis that the sounds came from cannon was undoubtedly correct, and in
that event an engagement not far away was even now taking place.

Puzzled as well as alarmed, it was not difficult for the young soldier
to decide that the two armies now must be near each other. He had no
knowledge of the region through which he was moving, the only place of
which he had heard in the vicinity being Frederick City. Just where this
was situated, and what the sympathies of its inhabitants were, he did
not know.

Noel was aware also that his companion was manifestly in very low
spirits. Never before had he seen Dennis so cast down. The sight was
depressing, and in spite of his efforts to convince himself that his
fears were groundless Noel's confidence was rapidly vanishing as the men
advanced.

How far away the main body was lying was another matter of which he was
in ignorance.

Refreshed by the food that Eliza Jane had served him he was in better
condition to endure a long march, if such a demand should be made upon
him, than he had been at any time since he had escaped the attack at
Harper's Ferry. It was the unconcealed depression of Dennis that
influenced him now.

When he had first been charged with being a deserter he had looked upon
the matter as a joke. He was fearful by this time, however, as has been
said, that with his friends all in another division of the army or
prisoners of the Confederates, it might be impossible for him to prove
his identity, at least for a time.

That he was then a regularly enrolled sharpshooter, and in his small way
had done faithful service in the Peninsula campaign, was true. But could
he convince the captain that his record was clean?

There was no delay in the march. When two hours had elapsed, Noel was
surprised to find that they were approaching a camp. This camp, however,
was so manifestly only a temporary affair that he easily conjectured
that the men practically were under marching orders. Perhaps they had
come a considerable distance that very day.

Without waiting for any instructions the young captain directed that
Noel and Dennis should be sent to the guard-tent, into which both were
somewhat roughly thrust.

To Noel's surprise he found within the tent a half-dozen unfortunate
men, and in a brief time, from the confessions which followed, he was
aware that every one there was facing a charge of desertion. Indeed, one
of the men was describing the treatment which was measured out to those
who had deserted from the ranks.

"Most generally," he was saying, "if a man deserts, and is caught again,
they make him serve out all the original time of his enlistment without
any pay or allowance."

"For instance," suggested another man, "if a soldier has enlisted for
four years and deserts at the end of six months, if they should catch
him they would bring him back and make him serve three years and six
months more without pay, would they?"

"That's it," said the first prisoner. "Sometimes they send the deserters
off to Dry Tortugas."

"They might as well banish them from everywhere as to send them there."

"That's right."

"Where is this Dry Tortugas you're talking about?" inquired another.

"It's a group of islands that belong to the United States down near the
entrance to the Gulf of Mexico. It's about one hundred and twenty miles
southwest of Cape Sable."

"And where is Cape Sable?"

"That's the southern part of Florida. Where is your geography, man?
These islands of the Dry Tortugas are very low and swampy, and they are
covered with mangrove bushes."

"What are they?"

"Oh, they are something like the banana. Sometimes the deserters there
are made to serve a term of years with ball and chain."

"What do you think is going to happen to us?"

"That's not easy to tell. There have been so many men trying to get away
that I'm afraid that it will go hard with us."

Noel was listening intently to the conversation, but its effect upon him
was not so marked as it was upon Dennis. The fear in the heart of the
young Irishman was great, if it could be estimated by the expression
which appeared upon his face.




CHAPTER XXIV

A FRUITLESS INTERVIEW


As conversation ceased for a time Noel and Dennis withdrew to a part of
the tent where they were by themselves. The face of every man in the
tent betrayed his feeling of anxiety. Even Noel, the youngest of the
soldiers, was becoming alarmed at the outlook. Far removed from his own
regiment, among those who were strangers to him and who knew nothing of
his record or even of his presence in the army, the young soldier
desperately tried to think of some one to whom he might appeal for aid.

If he had been left free to follow his own wishes he would immediately
have sought the colonel and stated his case to that officer. As it was,
however, he was not only prevented from seeing the leader, but also was
in a position in which his statements would not be accepted without
further proof. His anger at the little sutler, who had brought the
trouble upon him, became keener, but his very helplessness tended only
to increase his anxiety.

The anxiety of the young prisoners would have been much greater if they
had known that at this very time Harper's Ferry was about to be taken
and the soldiers of the garrison made prisoners. The two great divisions
of the Southern army, as we know, had been planning to cross the
mountains and reunite at Hagerstown or Boonesborough.

General Jackson, energetic and prompt, successfully carried out the task
which had been assigned to him. Indeed, he was as prompt in his actions
as was his great commander. On the first day of his advance he marched
fourteen miles and that same night decided to cross the Potomac River.
The following day he was only four miles west of Martinsburg, and in the
morning when he moved upon the little place, to his surprise he found
that the garrison already had abandoned the post.

The general quickly resumed his march and on the following day, after
his troops had covered more than sixty miles in the four days, he came
within sight of the Federal forces.

There was a slight delay now, but on the 13th of September General
McLaws reached the hills known as Maryland Heights and at the same time
General Walker, who was meeting with no resistance at all, occupied
Loudon Heights above Harper's Ferry.

All that night General Jackson was awake, receiving frequent reports
from both of his subordinates, and before the morning came he had made
all his plans for a combined attack upon Harper's Ferry by all the
divisions under his command.

Right at the angle formed by the junction of the Potomac and the
Shenandoah Rivers lies Harper's Ferry. To the south were heights which
were strongly held by the Union troops. It was in the afternoon of
September 14, when at the command of General Jackson the Confederate
batteries began to pour a heavy artillery fire upon the Union troops on
the heights, and when night fell he had worked his army into such a
position that it really commanded both flanks of the Bolivar Heights
where these Union soldiers were stationed.

The following morning there was a brief interval of quiet and then
General Jackson prepared to assault the heights. But before the attempt
was made the Union garrison capitulated.

Not only were more than twelve thousand prisoners secured (for the
garrisons which had been stationed at Winchester and at Martinsburg had
retired previously to Harper's Ferry), but there also were seventy-three
great guns and something like thirteen thousand small arms that became
the prizes of the victors.

"Whist!" whispered Dennis, speaking for the first time since the boys
had been consigned to the guard-tent. "'Tis a black day for us, I'm
thinkin'. 'Tis a foine way, too, to treat the boys that niver thought of
desartin'."

"We'll get out of this all right," said Noel, speaking with a confidence
he was far from feeling. "They'll have to find out first whether or not
we're really deserters before they punish us."

"If I had that little spalpeen, Levi, here, I'd get some satisfaction,
anyway! What for do you suppose he told the captain that we were
desarters?"

"There's fifty dollars reward offered to any one who will help in the
return of a deserter; at least, that's what I have been told," said
Noel.

"That explains it, thin," said Dennis confidently. "That explains it
all. For fifty dollars that Levi would sell his mother and his whole
family."

"Fifty dollars is a good deal of money, Dennis."

"So it is. So it is," acknowledged the young Irish soldier, "but it's a
lot more than Levi is worth."

"How much more?"

"Just fifty dollars, to a cint."

The attempt to speak lightly of their troubles, however, was almost
pathetic. Both boys were exceedingly anxious and their feelings were not
relieved by the manifestly increasing fears of their companions.

It was now early in the afternoon and the guard as yet had not come with
their food. Noel had decided that he would await the coming of this man
and beg him to obtain permission for him to see the colonel. The boy
felt that, if only he could be admitted to the presence of that officer,
he would be able to state some things which would lead to the prompt
release both of himself and his companion.

There was a long interval, however, before a soldier came to bring their
dinner, if hard-tack and water could be dignified by such a term.
Neither Dennis nor Noel ate of the food thus provided. Not only were
their appetites gone, but their anger had increased as they thought of
the way in which they were being treated after their difficult and
perilous services all through the campaign on the Peninsula.

The feeling of Dennis frequently found voice in his expressions of anger
and disgust. Noel, however, was more controlled in his manner and seldom
spoke except in reply to the questions of his comrade.

Noel eagerly had begged the soldier who had brought their dinner to
report to the colonel that one of the men was innocent and most
earnestly begged permission to explain to him how he had been falsely
accused.

He was by no means confident that the soldier would bear his request to
the colonel and still less was he hopeful that the colonel would grant
him an interview.

He was, therefore, the more surprised when an hour later an orderly came
to the tent and said, "Who is the man that asked to see the colonel?"

Instantly three of the inmates replied that they had made this request.
To the surprise and consternation of Noel Curtis the orderly simply
said, "There will be time for only one and he will have to be quick. I
don't see why the colonel waits, anyway. The only place for a deserter
is at the end of a rope that's tied so that his feet will be about three
feet above the ground. That's the way one of the deserters was served
this morning."

"What!" demanded Noel, his face turning pale in spite of his effort to
be calm. "Do you really mean to say that a deserter was hanged to-day?"

"That's exactly what I mean to say," said the soldier lightly. "So many
men have tried to break loose lately that it has been decided to use
stricter measures. Perhaps they will be better to you, though, and
instead of hanging you, they will just let you be shot. That's a better
way. Leastwise, that's what I would want if I had to take my choice."

"I'm the one," said Noel hastily, "who sent word to the colonel asking
for permission to see him."

"He isn't the man!" shouted the other three in unison; and each added,
"I'm the man!"

"How will I ever know?" said the orderly as he gazed in confusion first
at one prisoner and then at another.

"I'll tell you," suggested Noel. "Ask each man to tell how he sent his
message, and the one that gives it right is to be the one who shall have
a chance."

"Good!" said the orderly. "How did you send word?" he asked, turning to
Noel as he spoke.

"Ask these other men first," suggested Noel. "I was the last one to put
in a claim that I had sent word, so let me be the last one to explain
how I sent it."

"All right. Now, go ahead, you tell how you sent your word," the orderly
demanded as he looked keenly at the oldest of the trio.

"I don't just remember," stammered the soldier. "It seems to me I sent a
letter."

"That's what I did, too," said the second. "I wrote a note and sent it
by one of the boys."

"And how did you get word to him?" the orderly inquired as he turned to
the third man.

"I give it up. I'll own up, too, that I didn't send any word at all,
though I wanted to. Perhaps I took the wish for the deed."

"Now explain how you sent your message," said the soldier as he again
turned to Noel.

"I sent it by the man who brought us our dinner to-day."

"That's right. You're the boy. You come with me."

Without any delay Noel was conducted by the orderly to the tent of the
colonel, and soon was admitted.

He remained standing near the table upon which the officer was writing.
The colonel did not even glance at his visitor for a time as he
continued his task. At last, however, he looked up and said abruptly,
"Well, what is it?"

"I have come to tell you," said Noel, somewhat embarrassed in spite of
his determination to be self-controlled, "that I have been accused of
being a deserter."

"Oh, you're the man who sent word by Dan Tague."

"I don't know the man's name," said Noel respectfully.

"Well, he brought your message. And you say you are not a deserter?"

"Yes, sir."

"But you cannot prove it?"

"I can and I will if you'll give me a little time."

"But I have positive information here," said the colonel, taking a paper
from his pocket, "that you _are_ a deserter. It states that you and
another man named Dennis O'Hara both deserted at Harper's Ferry and were
discovered not far from here this morning by Captain Blowers."

"I don't know the captain's name, Colonel," said Noel. "I did not
desert at Harper's Ferry. I was outside the lines--"

"What were you doing outside the lines?" interrupted the colonel.

"I was foraging."

"Was any one with you?"

"Yes, sir. Dennis O'Hara."

"Ah, ha! Then the story is true that you both were outside the lines?"

"Yes, sir! that's true, although it isn't true that we deserted."

"To what regiment do you belong?"

"To the --th."

"To which company?"

Noel gave the number of his company.

"Who was your colonel?"

"Colonel Crawford."

"That's correct," said the officer. "All these things tally. I have a
statement here that you and--your name is Noel Curtis, is it not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I have a statement here that Noel Curtis and Dennis O'Hara, both
belonging to Company ---- of the --th regiment deserted just before the
attack on Harper's Ferry."

"Colonel, may I ask you who made that statement?"

"The sutler is the one who informed us."

"Did any one else tell you?"

"I think so. I haven't all the papers here and I have no time to go into
details about this. Have you served long?"

"We enlisted last spring, my brother and I. We were both in the
Peninsula campaign. My brother was sick and went home on a furlough."

"Where is your home?"

"In New York State, on the border of the St. Lawrence River. My brother
and I were both sharpshooters."

The colonel smiled incredulously as he looked at the young soldier, but
all he said in reply was, "I have nothing but your unsupported word for
this, while I have the testimony of others against you. The fact that
you were outside the lines at Harper's Ferry is against you, and it's
just about as black when Captain Blowers reports that he was informed by
reliable witnesses that you are a deserter and were seen several times
skulking about the region. We are compelled to make examples of these
men right now, or we shan't have anybody left to stand against Lee.
You'll have to find better reasons for convincing me than you have given
this afternoon."

"Will you make some investigations, Colonel?"

"No, not now. There is no time. Do you hear those guns?" he demanded as
the roar of distant cannon was heard. "We may be ordered to advance at
any time. Meanwhile I must give my men a good lesson, and I cannot do it
in a better way than by making an example of such men as you."

"Don't you believe what I have told you?"

"I don't," said the colonel tartly. "Your story is just about as
plausible as the one young Naylor told me before I had him hanged."

Noel's face became pale as he heard the statement lightly repeated by
the colonel that some one had been hanged that very day for desertion.
He was aware, however, from the attitude of the officer and the abrupt
manner in which he turned again to his writing that there was little use
in trying further to plead his cause. Turning about, Noel, still under
the guard of the orderly, left the tent and was conducted back to the
place where he had been confined with his companions.




CHAPTER XXV

THE EXECUTION


Depressed as Noel was by his recent interview with the colonel, he
nevertheless was surprised when he approached the tent to find that the
guards had been changed. The young soldier was not yet aware that when
deserters were put under guard certain selected men were stationed with
loaded muskets about the tent of those who had been condemned. Every two
hours the guard was relieved.

Nor was any soldier ever compelled to stand guard over a deserter from
his own company or regiment. Naturally it was very difficult for one
comrade to be compelled to enforce so severe a rule as that which was
applied to men who deserted, when the guilty comrade, perhaps, was a
schoolmate, a relative, or even a brother. Besides, there was the
continual fear of the officers that if such men were placed in charge
there would naturally be the danger of a plot or a plan for the escape
of those who were condemned. It was for this reason that Noel and
Dennis, in any event, would have been assigned to a guard-tent in some
company in which they were not likely to have any acquaintances, or
even any friends among its members.

As soon as Noel entered the tent, Dennis was aware from the expression
of his face that his mission had not been successful.

"What is it, lad?" he whispered as he drew the young soldier to one
side.

Noel shook his head as he replied, "The colonel wouldn't believe a
word."

"The colonel is as bad as that little spalpeen, the sutler!"

"I wouldn't mind it so much," said Noel, "if they would first really
find out what the truth of the charge is, but it seems that they have
taken the word of Levi, and now anything we can say doesn't seem to
count for much against it."

"But they'll give us a trial. They'll hold a court-martial before
anything is done," protested Dennis.

"I hope so," said Noel. "I don't know how it will be held, or how fair a
show we'll have. It's the only square way, though, and if it's possible
I am going to try to make an appeal. I have thought of sending for the
chaplain. I think he might be able to do something for us if any man in
the regiment can."

"Who is the chaplain?"

"I don't know who he is, but we'll be able to find that out later."

A low conversation which followed between the inmates of the tent
revealed the fact that several of the men already had been tried and
condemned by court-martial for desertion. Every one was bitter against
those who had passed sentence upon him. Noel was surprised to find that
the men were all claiming, what he himself had asserted as the cause for
the mistake in his arrest, that some one had brought a false charge
against them.

Not unnaturally both the young soldiers were depressed when darkness
came on, and Noel was unable to sleep. Mortified by the charge as well
as anxious, he lay with wide-open eyes staring in the dim light at the
top of his tent and wondering what the following day would bring forth.
The sound of guns in the distance, the restlessness that was manifested
among the soldiers, the evident interest with which the colonel was
reading some dispatches that he had received, as well as the severity
with which the so-called deserters were being treated, all combined to
make the young soldier confident that stirring action was speedily
expected.

The following morning dawned wonderfully clear. When Dennis awoke the
sun was shining brightly and the morning air was soft and still.

When the boys first arose they were startled at the presence of two
ambulances in front of their tent. In each of these ambulances there was
a rough coffin of wood. That these gruesome objects should have been
brought to the place where the prisoners under the charge of desertion
were confined at first had not been suggestive to Noel. He was soon
aware, however, what the explanation was, and his face became pallid
when he heard two of his companions ordered to advance and each man to
take his seat on a coffin. A detail of soldiers had been assigned to
draw these two ambulances and in solemn silence were awaiting the coming
of the condemned men.

Noel Curtis shuddered when one of the prisoners, stepping lightly into
the ambulance, seated himself upon the long box, and, rapping upon the
wood, turned to some of the watching soldiers and flippantly said,
"Boys, can't you put some shavings or something a little softer in my
box? It looks as if it might be a pretty hard nest to rest in."

Instead of laughter or applause greeting his coarse remarks, the
silence and disgust of the assembled soldiers seemed to react with
solemn force upon the condemned man. At last the word was given and the
cavalcade departed, leaving the remaining prisoners in the guard-tent
dumb with the horror of the event.

Difficult as Noel Curtis had found it, in his previous experiences in
the campaign on the Peninsula, to control his feelings when he found
that he was actually shooting at a human being, that experience was by
no means equal to the suffering which he now was undergoing.

There might be some justification for men making targets of one another
when some great issue had been raised, but the young sharpshooter was
now fully aware that war was no holiday game. His heart rebelled against
many of the things which he saw, and yet the supreme issue of it all and
the fact that war had been declared and accepted, and that there was no
relief or release until one side or the other in the great conflict had
won its victory, could not be ignored.

His thoughts now were centered upon the men who had been taken away from
the tent for their execution. The presence of the detail implied that
both men were to be shot, a method of execution not quite so revolting
as that by hanging.

Some of the men under sentence in the guard-tent seemed to be dumb with
fear, while others more stolidly expressed their complaints over the
outcome of the court-martial which had been held for the two condemned
men the preceding day.

Several times when shots were heard near the place where the division
was in camp, Noel fancied that the report was that of the guns of the
men who had been detailed to shoot the two deserters.

In his interview with the colonel the young soldier had been informed
that desertion was becoming so frequent in the army at this time that
orders for the sternest measures to break it up had been issued. No man
now might expect any mercy who should flee from his post of duty.

Sometimes homesickness had been the cause of the men leaving their
comrades. The thoughts or recollections of family and friends in the
far-away North had produced a longing in the midst of the monotony of
the camp work and of the army life that had been too strong for some to
resist. Others, however, had become tired of the service when the
novelty of the first days was gone and had fled simply to evade the
difficulties and drudgery which are a part of the campaign of any army.
Whatever the cause may have been, the fact could not be denied, and Noel
Curtis understood fully the reasons for the sterner measures which now
were being used. Perhaps they might be justified, he thought, although
the unspeakable horror which had appeared in the expression on the faces
of the two condemned men, when at last they were taken from the tent,
was something which he was positive he never would be able to forget.

Somehow the morning passed. The guards were changed more frequently, and
it was evident to the waiting men that they had not been forgotten in
the midst of the excitement of the army in the knowledge that the enemy
was not far distant.

"I thought you were going to send for the chaplain?" suggested Dennis to
Noel when an hour or more had elapsed.

"So I am," said Noel promptly. "I had not forgotten it. It doesn't seem
to me, though, that any man will be able to help us much, when the
colonel is not willing even to hear what we have to say for ourselves.
It seems to me that they ought to give us credit first of all for being
honest. But his plan apparently is to believe a man guilty and then let
him prove his innocence, if he is able."

"Niver you fear, lad. The chaplain will be able to help us out."

"We'll ask to see him, anyway," said Noel.

Accordingly, when the guard next was called, Noel succeeded in
attracting the attention of the sergeant and made known his desire to
receive a visit from the chaplain. Such a visit, he was aware, was
permitted, and he was not without hope that the coming of this man might
be of assistance to him and his hardly beset comrade.

Nearly an hour elapsed before the chaplain appeared. He was a young man,
and in his face there appeared an expression of friendliness. Noel was
drawn to him at once, even before he heard the somewhat abrupt and loud
tones of his voice.

"What can I do for you?" asked the chaplain, not unkindly, as he entered
the tent and was informed that Noel was the inmate who had requested the
visit.

"I wanted to see you and tell you my story," said Noel quietly. "I am
here under a false charge."

The interest of the chaplain instantly became less keen, as Noel
discovered to his dismay.

"That's what every man says," responded the chaplain quietly.

"Well, it's true in my case. Did those poor fellows who were taken out
this morning say they were not to blame?"

"They surely did," said the chaplain. "I wish I was able now to forget
the horror of that scene. A hollow square was formed and the two coffins
were placed in the open part. I shall never forget the moment when the
adjutant-general stepped out into a position a little in front of the
center of the square. He's a strong man and not much given to sentiment,
but his voice trembled, although it was clear and strong, when in the
presence of all the soldiers he read the finding of the court-martial."

"It must have been hard for the men who had been detailed," suggested
Noel in a low voice.

"It was. You understand, however, that the guns used by the provost
guard on occasions like that are always loaded by men who have been
appointed for that special purpose. It never would do in the world to
let the soldiers load their own guns."

"Why not?"

"Why, it's more than likely that they would use blank cartridges. No one
wants to be responsible for the death of a man even if he is under
sentence. That's the reason why the guns never are loaded by those who
are to do the shooting. However, they all know that a blank cartridge
has been placed in one of the guns, but they are never told which one it
is. This plan makes every man believe that his gun contained the blank
cartridge and that it was not his shot which killed the prisoner. While
the adjutant-general was reading the finding of the court-martial the
two men had to stand up. As soon as the officer had finished reading,
both men were ordered to kneel on their coffins and a paper heart was
pinned on the coat of each."

"What is a 'paper heart?'" asked Noel.

"Why, it's just a quarter of a sheet of ordinary notepaper. It's white,
you know, and provides a mark for the men who are usually selected
because they are good shots. One of these poor fellows, after he had
been blind-folded, shouted, 'Boys, shoot me here,' as he put his hand
upon his heart. 'Don't make any mistake, either!' I don't know whether
the rest of the men heard the final order of the provost guard or not.
His voice sounded to me as if it might have been a quarter of a mile
away, it was so indistinct, but somehow he managed to call out--'Ready!'
'Aim!' 'Fire!'"

"Did they find the paper hearts?" inquired Noel, almost in a whisper.

"Yes, both the poor fellows fell forward on their faces and never
breathed again."

Dennis O'Hara, who had been listening to the words of the chaplain,
although he had not taken part in any of the conversation, could
restrain his fears no longer.

"But, yer Riverence," he said, "why should they treat an innocent man
like that? I'm tellin' ye that we're the most loyal boys in Little Mac's
army. We're both sharpshooters and we both did our part down on the
Peninsula. Now to be set up here and shot down like a couple of dogs!
Why, instead of desartin', we just were doin' our best to escape from
the Johnnies. 'Tis pretty hard! The colonel won't listen to a word! We
can prove it to him, everything we say."

"Is that so?" inquired the chaplain, turning to Noel for confirmation.

"It is, sir," replied Noel.

"I don't know that anything can be done," said the chaplain. "It would
be horrible to make such a mistake as that. You are entitled to a trial,
anyway. Where is the man who made the charges against you?"

"I don't know," said Noel, "but I don't think he's here. My belief is
that he is a spy, anyway, and part of the time is in the other army."

"Let me take the number of your company and regiment and I shall very
gladly see what can be done. I don't want you to build your hopes too
high, but you may rest assured that I shall do for you all that is in my
power."

As soon as their visitor had jotted down in his notebook the few facts
and figures which he asked for, he at once left the tent.




CHAPTER XXVI

THE TEST


The sufferings of Noel and Dennis were increased by the feeling of
suspense which followed the departure of the chaplain. Rumor had been
busy in the camp and had reached even the men in the guard-house
concerning the execution of the deserters and the penalty which now
might be visited upon the men who were still under guard.

The feeling in the heart of Dennis was more one of anger than of alarm.
With Noel, however, uncertainty and fear combined to make the young
soldier much cast down. When Dennis occasionally tried to arouse his
spirits, the effort of the young Irishman was so manifest that the
effect sometimes was the exact reverse of what he had intended.

More and more Noel became alarmed as the hours passed. When the chaplain
returned, as he did a few hours later, not even his cheery words could
disguise the fact that as yet he had not received any information
concerning the two young sharpshooters which would justify the colonel
in making an exception of their cases.

When Noel awoke early the following morning he was surprised to find
Dennis already busily engaged in writing a letter. And such a letter!

When Noel drew near, he saw that Dennis had taken sheets of foolscap,
cutting them lengthwise and had pasted the half-sheets together so that
he had a continuous roll that must have been at least thirty feet in
length.

"What are you doing?" demanded Noel in surprise.

"Shure, lad, and I'm writin' a letter."

"But to whom are you writing such a letter as that? Do you write on both
sides of the paper? It would take more money than you have saved in a
month to pay the postage. What are you trying to do, anyway, Dennis?"

"Shure, lad," said Dennis quietly, "I had a letter from me sister in
which she says as how I have niglicted the family and niver write a
word, so I'm goin' to sind her one letter that she can't say is too
short. I'm gettin' near the end of it, though. If you'll wait a minute,
lad, I'll read to you the last sintence."

Before Noel could protest Dennis began glibly, "And now, me dear
Bridget, I can tell you that I am very happy because the assurance is
dawning upon me mind that I am gettin' near the end of my paper. I have
only to say that after I have been through the regular number of
pitched-battles and hair-breadth escapes and have walked a few hundred
miles and chased the Johnnies up and down the hills, perhaps by that
time I shall have come really to the ind of this letter and be able to
sign me name. If you still think that I'm not writin' long enough
letters to you and to mother and the girls, I'll come home just as soon
as our business at the front is finished, and from the appearances at
the prisent time somethin' is going to happen before I shall have a
chance to sign my name."

Dennis looked up from his paper and said, "There, lad, I'm not
explainin' to thim what it is that may happen. It'll be time enough for
thim to find out that when they have to. But what do you think of me
epistle, anyway?"

"Very good."

"What there is of it," replied Dennis, smiling in spite of the fears
which held him.

"It's a sort of last will I'm writin', too," added Dennis. "I niver have
written a will whin I was goin' into battle the way some o' th' boys
do, but whin I have to face the sintence of bein' shot as a desarter,
which I niver was, and if the Saints will presarve me, I niver shall
be--"

"I heard of a woman back here," broke in Noel, "who made a will and left
her shoestrings to her sister."

"Bedad," said Dennis, "I niver thought o' that. 'Tis a good suggestion!
I'm goin' to leave mine to Levi Kadoff. There ought to be enough of them
to hang him with. Faith, and if I had him here now--"

The conversation of the two young soldiers was interrupted once more by
the return of the chaplain. Still he had not received any information
and the messenger, who he assured the boys had been dispatched, had not
as yet returned.

In spite of the desire of the good man to encourage the boys, and his
apparently unshaken confidence that in the end all would be well, the
feeling of uncertainty and injustice still possessed both Noel and
Dennis. They had been forgotten, they assured themselves, by the men who
knew them best and at such a time as this could bring them aid. Of what
good was it that they had been selected for positions of danger and had
been among the sharpshooters, doing their part in holding back the
enemy around Williamsburg and at Malvern Hill?

Even if the desire had been in the minds of the young soldiers, the
opportunity to escape was gone. The guard was changed every hour now,
and there was no question that the muskets of the marching soldiers were
loaded. There was no blank cartridge here.

Noel's strong desire was to receive word from those who knew him. But
just where that division of the army now was located he did not know,
nor was he positive that there would be an opportunity in the presence
of threatening events for an investigation to be made which would
relieve him from the charge which was hanging over him.

A third visit from the chaplain still failed to bring the desired news.
The depression of the boys was so manifest that the chaplain apparently
made a special effort to cheer them.

"There was a little fellow back here near the colonel's tent who somehow
made me think of you two boys. You have told me about the little sutler.
Let me see, what did you say his name is?"

"Levi. Levi Kadoff," answered Noel.

"Well, this little fellow by the colonel's tent may be the same one. He
was a little Jew, who had been shot. A ball had just grazed the tips of
two of his fingers and he was howling so loudly that I think you might
have heard him here, if you had listened."

"Was he yelling with pain?"

"Oh, no!" laughed the chaplain. "He was crying for a pension. In fact,
he was screaming for one. Yes, he wanted two pensions. When I saw him he
was holding up the two fingers that had been scratched, and was whining,
'Oh, Scheneral! Oh, Scheneral! how much pensions I gets for heem? I dink
I gets two pensions, maybe. One for each finger vat I lose.' A lot of
the boys had gathered around the little fellow and they were having a
good time as they listened to his complaints."

"Did he say where he was when he was shot?"

"No, I didn't hear anything about that."

"Maybe he is Levi. If he is, and you'll bring him here, Dennis and I
soon can tell. Did he have shining black eyes?"

"Yes."

"And curly black hair?"

"Yes."

"And did he weigh about ninety pounds?"

"Not more than that."

"Well, that's Levi; that's Levi, all right," broke in Dennis. "Just
bring him here to me, and I'll make him forgit his fingers and his
pinsions."

"You may make him forget his fingers, but you never can make him forget
his pensions," laughed the chaplain. "That seemed to be the chief thing
in his mind. I think I'll try to find out if his name is Levi Kadoff."

"If it is," suggested Noel, "bring the fellow here, but don't tell him
what you are bringing him for or that we are here."

"I'll see what I can do," said the chaplain, and a moment later he
departed from the tent.

The fact that the kind-hearted officer had made three visits that day to
the boys showed his interest in their welfare, but somehow Noel was
unable to shake off his conviction that their friend was powerless to
aid them. Accordingly he was surprised when an hour afterward the
chaplain returned.

"No word yet," he said quietly, as he smiled and shook his head, "but I
have some other good news for you. You understand there is nothing to
back up the statement which you have made that you were sharpshooters
in the Peninsula campaign. Personally, I believe what you tell me. I
have at last secured permission for you both to go with an orderly and
four men to a place outside the camp where you may show what skill you
possess."

"That's the way to talk," spoke up Dennis quickly. His hope had now
returned with full force. Indeed, as he afterward explained, he looked
upon their discharge as already having been accomplished.

To Noel, however, the privilege was not one which was unmixed with
anxiety. In his own skill, in his quiet way, he felt confident, but to
make such skill a test of the truth of what he had spoken was another
matter. A gun with which he was unfamiliar would be thrust into his
hands and the very excitement of the test of itself might be sufficient
to prevent him from doing himself full justice.

The chaplain, aware of what was passing in the mind of the young
soldier, smiled encouragingly and did not speak.

Dennis, whose joy rapidly increased, had now arrived at a point where
his enthusiasm seemed to pass all bounds.

"I'll tell you what to do, yer Riverence," he said to the chaplain.
"Just put Noel and me tin yards apart. Let one of us fire and then the
other and you'll find Noel's bullet lodged in the barrel of my gun and
my bullet in his. That is, if we don't fire at the same time. If we
should fire at the same minute the bullets would meet midway and you
wouldn't find anything but two flattened pieces of lead."

"Do you often have an experience like that?" inquired the chaplain with
a smile.

"Oh, yis, very oftin," answered Dennis solemnly. "Sometimes Noel says to
me,' Dennis, me boy, I'm a bit tired this mornin'. Just put a bullet in
my gun, please'; and it's easier to shoot one in than it is to have to
go through the whole process o' loadin'."

The chaplain said no more, but at once conducted the two young soldiers
to the guard which was waiting outside the tent.

No word was spoken as the little band fell in, and at the word of the
orderly started in the direction which to Noel's surprise led over the
way by which he had come when he had been brought to the camp. As yet he
had not been able to obtain from Dennis a connected story of the mishaps
of the young Irish soldier, nor of the way by which he had avoided his
enemies and at last had been taken as a deserter and confined in the
guard-tent.

Noel somehow believed that not even Dennis would have been able to
escape from the well in which he had been hidden unless he had received
help from outside. But to all inquiries Dennis made evasive replies, and
Noel was still unable to understand the mystery with which he had
shrouded his doings.

The little band now was on the borders of the place where the division
was encamped. The entire region was unfamiliar to Noel, but as he
glanced at a low house on the side of the road over which they were
passing he was startled when he beheld Levi standing by the little
cabin. The little sutler's fingers were bandaged, and as Noel recalled
the story which the chaplain related to him and the pleadings of the
little Jew for two pensions because he had received a wound in the tips
of two fingers, he smiled in spite of the seriousness of the errand upon
which he and his companion were going.

Suddenly Levi recognized the two young soldiers in the midst of the
little band, and with a scream of rage instantly started toward them.




CHAPTER XXVII

THE SHARPSHOOTERS


"I shall see dem hanged," screamed the little sutler; "I shall see dem
hanged. Dey steals mine goots. Dey tip ofer mine tent. I shall see dem
hanged."

Levi's voice, usually shrill, in his rage now became almost a childish
treble. Even his wounded fingers were forgotten for the moment, and he
was gesticulating with both hands.

"Shure," exclaimed Dennis, pretending to have difficulty in recognizing
the little Jew, "shure, 'tis Levi! My friend, it's lucky for you it's
not cold here. You talk so much wid your hands they might be frozen
stiff."

Unmindful of the declaration, Levi became still more excited and his
hands were moving still more rapidly.

"Yah, I shall see you hanged!" he shouted. "You shall no more steal mine
goots! It shall cost you more nor you vould haf paid for mine goots, vot
vas so cheap. You shall no more tip ofer mine tent!"

"Levi," said Dennis solemnly, "how many pinsions are you drawin'?"

"I draw no pensions yet," shrieked Levi.

"I understand," said Dennis, "that you are trying to draw two pinsions,
one for the scratch you got on each finger."

"I did not scratch mine finger. I haf been shot mit der fingers. I shall
draw more pensions, but I shall have mooch joy in seeing you hanged."

The soldiers, under whose charge the boys were being conducted to the
place where they were to display their skill with the rifles, were
laughing heartily at the impotent rage of the little sutler.

Dennis, in spite of his bantering, did not betray a trace of a smile on
his face. As solemnly as if the errand upon which he was going was the
sole purpose in his mind, he looked reprovingly at Levi as if his heart
was moved by sorrow more than by anger.

"Are you coming with us, Levi?" he inquired.

"Yah, I vill surely come. I shall mit great pleasure see you hanged. You
shall no more tip ofer--"

"I say, sergeant," said Dennis, "what are we to have for a target?"

"I don't know," replied the soldier good-naturedly. "We'll find
something."

"If you haven't any target ready, I would like to suggest one."

"What is it?"

"I think it would be a great scheme to have this little sutler come
along with us and stand him up at a distance of seventy-five yards.
Noel, here, can clip one ear an' thin I'll take the other. Thin we'll
cut off a part of his nose, though he will have enough left even thin to
satisfy any two or three living men--"

A cry of rage, not unmingled with fear, from Levi, interrupted the young
Irishman.

"I shall not be von target! you shall be von target!"

"Yes; but, Levi," suggested Dennis, "think what it will mean for you! If
Noel cuts off one ear, there's another pinsion. That will be pinsion
number three. If I trim your other ear, that will be pinsion number
four, and if both of us cut down your nose a little that will be worth
more yet. Why, Levi, you'd be a rich man before you would be able to get
home. Of course, there may not be very much of you left, but what there
is will have a good time to the end of your days."

Perhaps it was the expression which Levi discovered on the faces of the
soldiers that caused him to halt abruptly. At all events, he stared for
a moment at the young sharpshooters, and then, as the soldiers laughed
loudly, he turned quickly and without once glancing behind him ran from
the place.

Even the chaplain had not been unmoved by the bantering of Dennis. He
was proving himself a friend, indeed, to the two boys, and it had been
largely through his solicitation that the opportunity had been gained
for them to show whether or not their claims to have been sharpshooters
in the Peninsula campaign were trustworthy.

"There comes that little spalpeen ag'in!" cried Dennis suddenly, as he
looked back and saw that Levi was following discreetly in the distance.
"'Tis well for him he stays behind us, though I think I could put me gun
over me shoulder and shut both eyes and not miss the little rascal."

Noel had not taken any part in the badgering of Levi. He was far too
anxious concerning his own safety. It is true he was not without hope
that before he should be tried by the court-martial his statements
concerning his enlistment and service would be obtained and verified and
he would be free. But there was so much confusion in the army, and the
presence of the enemy was so well known, that he understood an advance
was to be speedily ordered, and at such a time it was inevitable that
some mistakes should be made and certain duties should be neglected. The
greatest danger was that in the midst of such confusion it would be
impossible for him to free himself from the charge of desertion which
had been brought against him.

At last a position outside the camp was gained, where the little company
halted. An improvised target was made of an old and battered white hat
which was found in a corner of the fence, whither it had been driven at
some time by the wind. This hat was securely fastened to a stake which
was driven into the ground at a distance of seventy-five yards from the
place where the two young soldiers were stationed.

"Who shall shoot first?" inquired Dennis, who was carefully examining
the rifle which had been placed in his hands.

"If you don't care, I should like to," said Noel.

"Go ahead, me lad," assented Dennis. "They won't have the execution
until I'm ready to go along with ye."

Noel found the rifle which had been given him a trifle heavier than the
one to which he had been accustomed. It was a little more difficult for
him to raise it to his shoulder and gain the sight which he desired.
However, after testing his gun several times and looking carefully to
its loading, he abruptly raised the rifle to his shoulder and apparently
without taking careful aim fired at the target in the distance.

"Hold on!" called Dennis, when some of the young soldiers started toward
the hat. "Wait until I have my shot."

"If one of you hits the hat, we shall not be able to tell which one did
it unless we examine it after each shot," suggested one of the soldiers.

"Just wait a minute," called Dennis, "and you'll see two holes. That
will mean that both of us hit it."

Good-naturedly the men consented, and Dennis, whose methods were far
different from those of his comrade, brought his gun to his shoulder and
took long and careful aim before he fired.

In a moment a part of the little band started swiftly toward the hat,
and their exclamations of surprise were loud and many when they
discovered that Dennis's promise had been fulfilled. Two balls had
pierced the crown of the hat within an inch of each other.

"Just put up that hat again," said Dennis. "And if you like, Noel and me
will put some eyes and ears on the old hat until it will look as if some
old man's face was peering out of it. This is just to show you that
there wasn't any luck in it," he added, as he turned quickly to Noel,
who was about to fire the second time.

Again the report of the rifle rang out, and then Dennis speedily
followed the example of Noel. When the hat was examined two more holes
were found in the crown each about an inch from the place which had
marked the spot where the preceding bullets had hit the mark.

"I guess the boys are all right," said the orderly.

"Wait a minute," said Dennis. "We have made a square there now, haven't
we?"

"Yes," replied the soldier.

"Well, with three more shots Noel and I will turn the square into a
circle and cut out a round piece of the old hat itself."

The suggestion of the young Irishman was followed, and true to his word
when three more shots had been fired by each it was discovered that a
circle in the crown had been completed by the bullets.

"If the rest of your story is as true as the part which has to do with
your shooting, then I guess both you boys are all right," said the
orderly cordially. "We haven't a better shot in our regiment."

"Shure, you haven't," said Dennis heartily. "Didn't I tell you that Noel
was the best shot in Little Mac's army? Now, if you'll just say the
word, sergeant, I would like to have him turn around and fire at the
ground under the foot of that little Jew. He paid the piper and he ought
to have his dance."

Every man in the group at once turned to look at Levi Kadoff, who in
spite of his fears had been creeping nearer, and as the voice of Dennis
had not been either low or soft, the effect was magical. Levi prepared
to depart without further delay.

Turning to the orderly Dennis said, "Take my gun, sergeant, and just let
me catch the little spalpeen, will ye?"

As the chaplain nodded assent in response to the implied question of the
sergeant, Dennis laughingly started in swift pursuit of the sutler.

For one moment Levi stared blankly at the approaching young Irishman.
Manifestly what he saw was not pleasing, for with a shriek he turned and
at his utmost speed tried to escape from the place.

His efforts, however, availed little, for with his longer strides Dennis
swiftly gained upon his victim, and in a brief time laid his heavy hand
upon the shoulder of the screaming, shrieking Levi. Kicking and striking
like an angry child, the sutler did his utmost to break the firm hold
which his captor secured upon him. Apparently unmoved and unmindful,
Dennis dragged his helpless prisoner back to the place where the
soldiers were awaiting him.

"Now, then," said Dennis when he had rejoined his comrades, "we'll make
the little spalpeen speak up. What for did you say that Noel and me was
disarters?"

"Because you vas deserters!" shouted Levi. "You steals mine goots, you
tips ofer mine tent, you--"

"There! there! That will do," said Dennis soothingly. "I'm thinkin' what
you need is what Paddy gave the drum."

Helpless in the powerful grasp of Dennis, Levi still shrieked and
protested. But in spite of all his efforts, Dennis, seating himself
upon a stump, stretched Levi across his lap and soundly spanked him.

When this task had been completed, the howlings of Levi were redoubled.
Apparently irritated by the failure of the little sutler to profit by
his experience, Dennis lifted his victim from the ground and shook him.
As he did so a paper fell to the ground from Levi's pockets, at the
sight of which the excitement of the little sutler instantly increased.

"And what's that?" said Dennis as he roughly pushed Levi from him and
picked up the paper, which he discovered was an envelope containing a
letter.

"It was not for you," screamed Levi. "It vas mine! It vas mine! You
steals mine goots. You tips ofer mine tent, but you shall not haf mine
letter. It vas from mine moder."

"Wait a minute and I'll see whether it's from your mither or from
General Lee," said Dennis tauntingly, as he drew forth the paper from
the envelope.




CHAPTER XXVIII

THE PRESIDENT'S ACTION


An expression of surprise appeared upon the face of Dennis which quickly
changed to one of consternation. Every one in the little band was
silent, watching the young Irishman. What at first had been looked upon
simply as a rough and not altogether good-natured joke, now seemed to be
taking upon itself certain other phases that interested every one
present. Even Levi was speechless in his rage. Several times he made as
if he was about to flee from the spot, but every time he came back,
either fascinated by the action of Dennis, or eager to secure the paper
which the young Irishman was holding in his hand.

"Here, sergeant," said Dennis at last, "I think 'tis likely this is for
you."

"What is it?" replied the officer as he advanced.

"It looks as if it might be mighty important. 'Tis my opinion that the
little spalpeen has been seein' some things he ought not to see and is
reportin' what no Johnnie ought to know. Just look at that, will ye!"
and Dennis placed the tip of his huge forefinger upon some figures which
were written upon the paper.

Taking the sheet from Dennis's hand the sergeant looked keenly at it,
and in a moment it was seen that he was as startled and alarmed as had
been the young Irish soldier.

Turning quickly about, he saw that Levi manifestly was aware of what was
going on in the mind of the officer and was stealthily working toward
the woods in the distance.

"Stop that fellow!" ordered the sergeant. "Don't let him get away, not
for a minute!"

"Shall we try to catch him?" inquired Noel.

"No, there will be men enough without you. You go after him," he added,
turning to some of the others in the band.

Instantly obeying the command a half-dozen men started in swift pursuit
of the little sutler, who now was running at his utmost speed. The
pursuit was not long continued, however, for just before Levi gained the
refuge of the woods he stumbled and fell to the ground. Before he could
rise his pursuers were upon him, and in spite of the efforts of the
biting, kicking, striking, howling little sutler he was picked up
bodily and carried back to the place where the other members of the band
were awaiting their return.

"I suspict," said Dennis, as he tauntingly grinned at the helpless
prisoner, "that the little spalpeen has some other papers somewhere
about him. Maybe he has put thim in the heel of his boot. 'Tis my
opinion that he ought to be sarched from head to feet."

"We'll attend to that," said the officer, as he thrust into his pocket
the letter which Dennis had secured and at once gave the word to return
to the camp.

It was manifest to Noel that the test which had been made of the skill
of himself and Dennis, had been a source of deep satisfaction to the
chaplain, who now was advancing by his side. Naturally the officer did
not make any comment, but his face was beaming, and it was plain that he
was almost as pleased as were the boys themselves.

When the party arrived at the guard-tent, and Dennis was free to express
his opinions once more, he was not slow to embrace the opportunity.

"'Tis no use at all, at all," he said, "in kapin' Noel and mesilf here.
Think of a little spalpeen like Levi Kadoff comin' into the camp and
gettin' all he wants to find out and goin' back with it among the
Johnnies!"

"That's what he was doing," said Noel. "I wondered what Levi could have
to do with Sairy Ann's brother-in-law. He made no bones of the fact that
he was a spy, but I never suspected Levi of doing anything of the kind
from his own wish. We knew he would sell anything he possessed, whether
it was information or clothes, but I never believed that he would go
back and forth between the armies and carry news from one to the other."

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised if the little imp had been bringing
information here, too."

"Of course he has!" said Noel. "He got paid at both ends of the journey
and he wasn't very slow to make much of the chance. I wonder how much he
had."

"He hasn't had as much as he will get!" said Dennis positively. "Just
listen to that, will ye!"

The roar of great guns in the distance again was distinctly heard, and
so threatening was the sound that it did not seem possible to the
startled listeners that the men who were engaged in the combat could be
far away.

"Listen to that!" repeated Dennis. "That means that we're goin' to be
busy just as soon as they take us out of this guard-house."

"I think I would rather be there than here," said Noel, "although I
confess that ever since Malvern Hill I have not been eager to go into
the sharpshooters' pit."

"You'll be in no sharpshooters' pit here. They don't know enough to
count you for what you're worth. If we're fortunate enough iver to get
back to the --th, where we belong, there we'll pass for just exactly
what we are. The most I want here is just to get out of the guard-tent.
I think I can take care of the rest of it mesilf."

The conversation of the young soldiers continued in spite of the
repeated sounds of the distant firing. Two hours or more had elapsed,
and still no word was brought them, nor had the chaplain returned.
Eagerly the boys had talked over the possibilities of Levi being a spy,
Dennis firmly contending that there was not "spunk enough in the little
spalpeen to do anything for himself." Noel, however, claimed that the
former sutler was not without a form of courage of his own.

"There comes the chaplain," said Dennis, after a few minutes more had
elapsed. "From the look of him I think he has got something he would
like to say to us."

Nor was the young Irishman disappointed. When the chaplain entered the
tent his face was beaming and his satisfaction over what he was about to
say was so manifest that every one of the inmates was confident good
news of some kind had been brought.

"We have just heard from Washington!" said the chaplain eagerly. "We
sent a message to President Lincoln informing him just what had been
done here,--the number of deserters, who had been hanged, and who had
been shot, and how many were on hand, and asked what we should do next."

"Did you tell him about us?" broke in Dennis.

"Yes, we told him about you and the others, too."

"Well, what word did you get? Why don't you out with it, yer Riverence?"

The kind-hearted chaplain laughed and said, "I was just about to say,
when you interrupted me, that after we had sent our message to
Washington we did not expect to receive word in reply so soon. But the
message has just come that the President has received our communication
and--"

"The Saints presarve us!" broke in Dennis. "Won't you please tell us
what's happened?"

"That's what I am telling you," continued the chaplain. "If you wouldn't
interrupt me so frequently you would find out what I have come to say."

"Well, tell us, then!" said Dennis. And although every inmate was
silent, the face of every one gave evidence of the eagerness with which
he was waiting for the visitor's word.

"We have just received our message," began the chaplain once more, "and
I confess that I have a feeling toward the President such as I never
cherished before."

"But what did he say?" broke in Dennis.

"Be silent and I'll explain," said the chaplain. "We were not looking
for an answer for several hours yet, but to our surprise the messenger
has returned and has brought us word that President Lincoln has decided
to--"

As the chaplain paused again, Dennis impatiently broke in, "For the love
of the Saints in heaven tell us what he has decided to do! I can't stand
much more o' this. It isn't the spache we want. It's to know what the
Prisident said."

"He has decided to pardon every one of you."

A shout went up from the guard-tent. In their enthusiasm several were
for leaving the place at once.

"Hold on," warned the chaplain. "I have no right to let you go. I was
permitted to come and bring you the word. You will have to wait until
orders come from the colonel before you will be free. It won't hurt you
very much to wait a little while because you know you will not have to
stay long. It's a great message and I'm glad I am the one to bring it to
you. Are you pleased, both of you?"

"In course I'm pleased," said Dennis.

"And how is it with you, Noel?" asked the chaplain keenly as he turned
to the other young soldier.

"I didn't want any 'pardon'," declared Noel quietly. "I haven't done
anything for which I ought to be pardoned. I have been charged with
being a deserter, by a man whose word was taken instead of ours, and,
too, he is now said to be a spy. I don't feel like taking a pardon
because I haven't done anything which deserves a pardon."

"Don't be foolish, lad," suggested the chaplain. "This matter will all
be straightened out. If there is time you may be sent back to the
division where you belong, but if there isn't and we have to advance
now, there will be plenty of work for you to do before many hours have
passed. Don't stand on a little thing like that."

"I don't want to," said Noel, "and perhaps I shall not stay in the
guard-tent. I am not made of the stuff of which they used to make
martyrs. I appreciate what President Lincoln intended to do, but at the
same time I don't want to stay here as one who has been pardoned for
something which he never did."

"That will be fixed all right," said the chaplain soothingly. "And just
as soon as you receive word from the colonel that you are free, I hope
you won't stay here any longer."

"Niver a bit will we stay here any longer," declared Dennis. "You watch
me, if you want to! You'll see some dust, but not me nor me feet when I
get word to lave this tent."

True to the promise of the chaplain, word was brought in a brief time
that a message from the President had been received and that all the
deserters had been pardoned on the condition that every man should
resume his place in the army and do his duty.

Nor had they been long released before another and more startling
experience came. The heavy firing of cannon in the distance had now
increased, and it was manifest throughout the camp that preparations for
an advance were rapidly being made.




CHAPTER XXIX

THE BATTLE


Noel Curtis was standing in front of the colonel's tent listening to the
word of that anxious officer, who in response to the request of the
chaplain was showing the young soldiers the pardon received from the
President.

It was in Noel's mind to inquire concerning the fate of Levi. His own
feeling about accepting the pardon which had been offered was unchanged,
but in company with Dennis he had gone to the colonel's tent at the
suggestion of the chaplain, and with interest was listening to the words
of that officer.

Suddenly the clatter of hoofs was heard, and as the men turned sharply
about to ascertain the cause, they saw an orderly approaching with the
information that the division at once was to advance.

Hastily positions were assigned to Dennis and Noel, who were to report
with one of the New York regiments, and the marching orders speedily put
other thoughts from their minds.

Almost before the men realized what had taken place, they found
themselves marching along a dusty road with the air cool and the
confidence of the leaders manifest in many ways that appealed to the
boys in blue. Naturally there were rumors of the battle which was
expected, but so many similar reports had been current that some of
their power to arouse the interest of the army was gone.

Several times the excitement of the advancing troops was increased by
the sight of little squads of rebel prisoners that had been taken by the
cavalry skirmishing in advance.

One picture appealed with special force to Noel. The horses of the
officers of late had fared poorly at the hands of the quartermaster, and
now, as the troops halted near a barn, Noel saw several of the
half-starved animals within the building enjoying the first oats they
had received for days.

As Noel glanced behind him he saw a long column of troops winding around
the summit of the mountain over which he and his comrades had just
passed. The muskets of the men were glistening in the sunlight. The
lines resembled a mighty coil of armed men extending far down the side
of the mountain. Indeed, far beyond the place where Noel was standing,
it could be seen, and was lost to view only by the winding of the road
in the distance. It was the finest view of a marching army he had ever
had.

In the loft of the barn were a score or more of Confederates. Some of
these unfortunate men were sick, others had been wounded in the recent
cavalry skirmishes, and had been left by their comrades as they had
fallen back before the advance of the boys in blue. A guard or two was
attending to their wants, but every man as he peered out of the windows
seemed wan and pale, and the marks of the many privations and the heavy
fatigue to which they had been exposed were plain on every side.

The farmer, near whose barn the line had halted, explained that a large
body of the rebels had passed his house not long before. The men were
ill-clothed and seemed to be in want, he explained. The report of the
man, however, did not deceive any of the Yankee soldiers. They were well
aware that the "Johnnies" were fierce fighters, and in spite of their
scarcity of food and clothing were standing up bravely and persistently.
It was Dennis one time who made the remark that "these men might not be
inspired of God, but they certainly were possessed of the divil."

Neither of the young soldiers dreamed of the fearful events which were
soon to follow. Whether prejudice or ignorance, truth or falsehood, were
behind the struggle, there was no question about the tremendous
earnestness of both armies.

The Union army, when it entered the little city of Frederick, was
surprised as well as delighted at the ovation which it received from
many of the people. Shouts and songs and cheers greeted their arrival
and continued during their march through the city.

In the doorways of some of the houses girls and young women stood with
pails of clear, sparkling water. Many of these enthusiastic girls held
glasses in their extended hands inviting the thirsty and dust-covered
soldiers to drink.

It was Dennis who said glibly to Noel, when a halt was made beyond the
limits of the town, "I can't for the life of me tell what made me so
thirsty this afternoon. I think I must have stopped a dozen times for a
drink of water."

"Yes, I noticed it," said Noel demurely. "I have never seen anything
like this dust. No, and it doesn't seem as if the dust was all that was
new, either."

"There's one thing I don't see, though," said Dennis.

"What's that?"

"I don't see any of the big bugs, like the others, standing in the
doorways and giving water to our boys as they passed."

"I'm not surprised at that. I don't suppose the people who have money or
own slaves can be very enthusiastic over our coming down here to set
their slaves free or destroy their property."

"Indade, and I niver once thought o' that," said Dennis.

Near sunset the army halted again, and, wearied by their long march,
many of the men flung themselves upon the dust-covered grass by the
roadside or underneath the projecting branches of some large trees, and
sought a short respite from their labors.

The day was Sunday the 14th of September, 1862. To Noel, his thoughts at
such a time naturally recalled the manner in which the day was spent in
his far-away home. There all was peace and quiet. About him now,
however, were armed men and officers riding past and cannon were being
dragged up the dusty road. All these things presented a striking
contrast to his vision of peace and quiet.

Noel saw that every one of his comrades was sleeping, not even being
aroused by the passing of a body of cavalry or by the stamping of the
horses of their officers.

He, too, was about to place his knapsack upon the ground for a pillow
when, glancing up the road, to his surprise he saw Dennis running toward
him, dragging in his hand a large fallen branch of a tree.

That the young Irishman was about to perpetrate some prank Noel was
convinced. Dennis was simply irrepressible. The fatigues of the day, or
the thoughts of the battle, in which it was commonly believed the army
was about to enter, did not seem to check the exuberant spirits of
Dennis O'Hara.

As he approached the place where Noel was seated, suddenly the young
Irishman swiftly entered the road and, stamping loudly upon the ground,
began to run close to the place where many of the soldiers were
sleeping.

Adding to the confusion, Dennis began to shout, "Whoa! Whoa, there!
Whoa!" He did not check his own advance, however, and running swiftly,
dragged the branch he was carrying over the bodies and faces of some of
the sleeping men.

Instantly every one of the soldiers who had felt the touch of the
sweeping branch or heard the sound of Dennis's voice sat erect, and
then, convinced that a body of horsemen were trampling upon them,
quickly leaped to their feet and ran from the place. In spite of their
weariness a shout greeted the prank of Dennis and caused the young
Irishman to laugh loudly.

"They make me think," said Dennis, "of the old sport who took his gun
and traveled two days over the brakes and ferns and up and down the
mountains huntin' for a bear. Just at the close of the second day he
found the footprints of the old fellow and pretty soon afterward he
heard a growl from a rocky ledge that was too close to him for comfort.
The man stopped and scratched his head, and turnin' to his brother, who
was close behind him, he said, 'Now, look out! These tracks are gettin'
a little fresh! I believe I don't want any bear after all, so I'll go
back home.' It's a lot of brave men we have been hearin' talk about
comin' up to the front and drivin' the Johnnies through every gap in
these mountains, but whin a poor harmless boy comes along and shakes a
branch of a tree over thim, they are all so scared they don't even stop
to find out whether 'tis a Yank or a Reb that's chasin' thim."

It was not long before the march was resumed. The turnpike over which
the soldiers moved was broad and smooth, and as the men passed through
the rolling country its contrast with that which they had seen in their
campaign in the Peninsula was marked by every one.

At the next halt the chaplain, who had proved himself such a warm friend
to both of the young soldiers, approached the place where the two boys
were seated by the roadside.

"That's General Burnside and his staff over yonder," he explained to
Noel. "General Hooker is to lead our division."

"There's going to be a battle surely, isn't there?" inquired Noel.

"I think there is no doubt of it," replied the chaplain, "and I have a
strange feeling about this engagement. I know I shall be shot."

"Nonsense!" protested Noel.

"But I shall be. I was shot when I was on the Peninsula almost the first
chance I got. I was only slightly wounded there, but this time I shall
be killed. I know it."

"Shure, 'tis only a foolish notion that's got into your head," protested
Dennis. "Get rid of it, yer Riverence! Cheer up! Shure, you'll come out
all right."

"I wish I might think so. If I fall I shall fall doing my duty."

"Niver a doubt about that. Every man of us knows that you won't be shot
in the back."

The kind-hearted man soon passed on, but the impression he had made upon
the mind of Noel was one which the boy was unable to shake off. He, too,
was fearful of the coming contest. He was doing his utmost to repress
the feeling and was striving hard to hold himself to the line which had
been mapped out for him.

Apparently there were no rebel battalions now threatening the passage.
No cannon warned the advancing army from the narrow entrance between the
hills which they were approaching. These hills on either side of the
pass now were crowned with the glories of the approaching sunset. A few
clouds were seen in the sky, and in the distance occasional quick rushes
of smoke-puffs arose just above the trees and then the sight was
followed by the sound of a heavy boom.

Far to the left there were other puffs, and as they were faintly seen in
the distance there were quick responses from the Union artillery.

"Shure," muttered Dennis, "the artillery is beyond and with the help of
the infantry they'll drive the Johnnies out o' the way."

A rattle of musketry only faintly heard confirmed the words of the young
Irish soldier.

Above them and beyond were forests. Unseen foes without doubt were
lurking within the shelter of the great trees. Even now the opposing
armies might be preparing to rush madly against each other. Somehow the
smooth white turnpike began to lose its peaceful aspect in the eyes of
Noel Curtis.

The toiling soldiers, climbing a steep ascent now, were soon aware that
between them and the main ascent of South Mountain was an extensive
valley.

There were sharp calls from the officers, the line of march was changed
from the open turnpike, and the men approached a cornfield upon the
hillside.

In the midst of the passage through the field suddenly the great guns of
the Confederates opened upon the line with solid shot. Down the hill
dashed the army, then swiftly crossing the little valley, began the
steady climb of the mountain-side.

A few yards from the base of the mountain was a fence. Below the fence
the ground was cleared, while above it the face of the mountain was
covered with rocks and trees.

Steadily and surely the boys in blue advanced, and when they had arrived
within fifty yards of the place they were seeking, a rapid fire of
musketry was opened upon them by the Confederates, who lay concealed
behind the fence.

Bullets whistled about their ears. There were shouts and calls from the
leaders and loud and prolonged cheers from their willing followers. With
a wild shout the men dashed forward. Indeed, their course was almost
upward, so steep was the ascent. Volley after volley was poured in upon
them, but as yet the brave boys did not heed them and still rushed madly
forward.

The Confederates, astonished by the recklessness and the apparent
disregard of their bullets, began to give way. Successfully the
advancing soldiers gained the fence and then instantly sprang over it.
To their surprise, however, their enemies re-formed among the rocks and
renewed the fight with unshaken determination.

It was at this time that the chaplain, who had shown his friendship for
the boys, accompanied by a young lieutenant, was just springing over the
fence when a bullet struck him and he fell back upon the ground.




CHAPTER XXX

THE FOLLOWING DAY


To the horror of the young soldier he saw that the chaplain was
lifeless. The expression upon the face of the dead man was as peaceful
as that of one who has fallen asleep in his own home.

The strange declaration which the chaplain had made, that he expected to
fall in the fight into which he was about to enter, came back to Noel
now and strongly impressed him. It was strange, he thought, that such a
premonition should have taken hold upon a man who was so sane and
thoughtful.

There was little time, however, for consideration of matters of
sentiment. The struggle was not yet ended, and it was plain that the
Confederates desperately were holding their ground.

Meanwhile the success which had been won stimulated the Union soldiers,
and with shouts and shots they again pressed forward.

Not far before him Noel saw a line of men in gray who were loading and
firing steadily, and soon afterward he saw the line begin to waver.
Directly in front of his own regiment the men gave way, and several
companies from the right pressed forward at one side and in this manner
became separated from the regiment itself.

Looking hastily behind him, Noel saw that he and his companions were
thirty or forty paces in advance of the main line and now were within
twenty or thirty steps of the Confederate soldiers who were on their
left. It was plain, too, that the Southern soldiers were not as yet
aware of the approaching force.

In a brief time, however, they were dropping as grain falls before a
sickle. As Noel watched them a great wave of pity rushed over him. He
saw that they were falling by scores.

Suddenly, at the extreme end of the line, he saw a tall man in gray
hastily loading his gun. There was no regular command to fire now, and
instantly, hardly daring to hope that he was in time, Noel raised his
gun to his shoulder and fired. He saw the soldier pitch forward and fall
into a crevice between the rocks.

Unable to stop, step by step Noel Curtis with his companions pushed up
the steep side of the mountain. It was a marvelous sight to see the
determination of the boys in blue and the steady resistance which their
opponents offered in such a place.

There was a halt made soon, and then Noel ran swiftly to the place where
he had seen the man, at whom he had fired, fall.

When the young soldier arrived at the crevice, he saw the wounded
soldier sitting erect, and somehow a feeling of gratitude swept over
Noel's heart that the man was not dead.

"Are you wounded?" he inquired hastily, as he stopped a moment.

Without speaking the man mournfully nodded his head in reply. Noel saw
that there was a wound in the neck of the soldier and also one in his
arm.

"Same bullet," said the Confederate briefly. "I was just ramming a
bullet home and had my arm reaching out this way." As he spoke, he rose
to his feet and Noel was delighted to find that he was able to walk.

"You understand," said Noel, "that you are a prisoner?"

"I reckon I do," said the Confederate.

"I'll find some one to take charge of you and take you to the rear,
where you will be out of danger and where the surgeon can attend to
you."

"That's good of you. I reckon you don't know who I am."

The man's face was discolored by smoke and powder, but as he spoke Noel
instantly recognized him as the husband of Sairy Ann's sister.

There was no time, however, for further conversation, and as soon as he
saw that the prisoner had been placed in charge of one of the boys, Noel
threw himself upon the ground and crawled back among the rocks to a
position where he was about fifteen paces in advance of his company. His
intention now was to act as a sharpshooter, although he had received no
orders to that effect.

Cocking his gun he rose abruptly from his position behind the rock, and
there, directly in front of him and not ten paces away, he beheld a grim
rebel just bringing his gun to aim. His dark eyes seemed to flash fire
as they scowled fiercely from beneath the broad brim of a large, ugly
hat. He was aiming directly at the young soldier, too, and there was
slight chance of escape.

It was impossible for Noel to take careful aim under such circumstances.
More quickly than ever before he brought his gun to his shoulder and
blazed away, as it seemed to him almost at random, and then dropped
instantly behind the protecting rock. He hardly dared to breathe during
the excitement. Every part of a second seemed like a long time. There
was a fear that the fire of the rebel would reach him before he could
gain the protection of the rock, and, just as Noel dropped, the bullet
tipped the edge of the stone above his head.

Step by step the enemy now were retiring. Without venturing from the
position of safety which he had found, Noel waited until his line
advanced.

The enemy still were falling back and the boys in blue still pressed
steadily forward. More prisoners were secured and were regularly being
conducted to the rear. The bodies of those who had fallen and the
wounded were lying among the rocks.

For the first time Noel became aware that night was almost at an end. A
feeling of indescribable weariness swept over him. Even the bodies of
the fallen men, some of which were within ten feet of the place where he
was standing, seemed to be vague and unreal.

The hospitals had been established about halfway down the hill. To them
the wounded wherever they were found were still being carried.
Gradually the sound of the guns off to the left had been dying away.
Ricketts's men were holding the fence, while the regiment in the midst
of which Noel Curtis and Dennis had been struggling was resting on its
arms. No mounted orderlies could be found, as they had all been
withdrawn to other parts of the army. Such horses as were left were
secured by being tied to the trees.

After the necessary dispositions for the night had been made, the men,
wrapped in their cloaks or having donned their heavier coats, in utter
weariness threw themselves upon the ground.

Noel was far from feeling easy in his mind. With his comrades he was
fearful that the enemy might make a night attack and was afraid of what
might follow in the darkness and confusion.

The issue of the battle on the left was still uncertain and with this
feeling of uneasiness still prevalent throughout the regiment the men
sought to rest.

In spite of the excitement through which they had passed and in spite of
the near-by presence of the dead, not many minutes elapsed before
everything was forgotten and every man was asleep.

Awake early the following morning, Noel was surprised to find that his
nearest sleeping comrade was Dennis. He had seen but little of the young
Irishman thus far in the engagement and, indeed, he had seldom thought
of his friend.

Discovering that Dennis was awake, Noel in a low voice said to him,
"Dennis, how is it that any of us are left alive?"

"Indade, 'tis a wonder," answered Dennis.

"Not so great, after all," remarked another soldier who was lying near
the boys and had heard Noel's question. "The waste of ammunition in a
battle is something marvelous. Our colonel told us that it takes almost
a man's weight in lead to kill one soldier."

"It doesn't seem so," said Noel thoughtfully, "when you hear the volleys
shrieking above your head or flying close to your ears, and when men,
all excited and anxious, are trying to fire just as fast as they are
able. It doesn't seem possible that so many can come alive out of a
fight."

"You must not forget," said the soldier, "that most of the men make no
pretense at taking aim."

"And I guess," suggested Dennis, "that most of them don't. They act
like they were aiming at nothin' and trying to hit it."

"It is strange," said Noel, "how still the wounded men were. I didn't
hear many who were groaning or making any cry. The most of them were
either limping off, or being carried to the rear, or they were lying
down where they fell, all quiet and still."

"The worst shock I got," suggested Dennis, "was when I stumbled over the
bodies of some of the dead boys. That shook my nerves and made me
tremble like a leaf."

By this time the army was stirring once more and preparations for the
approaching day were being made. The great matter for rejoicing with
Noel and Dennis was the fact that there had been no attack by the enemy
during the preceding night.

Hasty arrangements were made for the burial of the dead. The young
soldier was marvelously impressed by the peaceful expression of most of
the upturned faces which he saw.

The first question among the living, however, was, "Where is the enemy?"

In front of the fence which General Ricketts's troops were still holding
there was no sign of the Confederates. Indeed, a strange, almost
unnatural, silence rested over the entire region. The little stretch
between the men and the cornfield seemed to be entirely free from the
presence of soldiers. There was a slight mist resting on the
mountain-side and through this could be dimly seen the fallen dead of
the enemy.

With others Noel had been designated to care for the bodies of his
comrades who had been killed in the fight. As he was moving about among
the rocks and stumps, suddenly, a slight, boyish form without any weapon
and clad in the customary gray uniform of the Confederate soldiers, was
seen by Noel kneeling over the body of a fallen man. To his
inexpressible horror Noel saw that the man was using his knife and
trying to remove a ring from the finger of the dead soldier.

Startled by the approach of Noel, the man suddenly looked up, and,
instantly rising, said quickly, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot me! I vas your
prisoner."

The feeling of rage and disgust which had seized upon Noel's heart
quickly gave way when to his surprise he saw that the approaching man
was none other than the little sutler, Levi Kadoff.




CHAPTER XXXI

ANTIETAM


Startled as Noel Curtis was by the sight of the little sutler, whom he
believed to be true to neither side, his feeling speedily gave way to a
great rush of anger. Almost unmindful of what he was doing, Noel rushed
upon Levi and seizing him by his shoulders shook the little sutler until
both he and his prisoner were nearly breathless.

"You rascal! You little villain! What do you mean by this work? It's bad
enough for you to be false to the living, but when you try to rob the
dead! I'll try to see that you receive your just deserts!" shouted Noel.

"But--"

"Don't talk!" roared Noel, again shaking his prisoner. "What are you
doing here? How did you come?"

Unmindful of the fact that Noel had forbidden his prisoner to speak, and
yet at the same time had told him he must explain his presence and
actions on the battle-field, he glared into the face of the breathless
and frightened Levi in a manner that increased the latter's terror.

"I'll tell you," shouted Noel, "what I'm going to do with you! I'm going
to turn you over to the boys after I have told them that you were trying
to cut the ring from the finger of one of the dead soldiers! I'll leave
you with them. I guess they'll know what to do with you."

"Oh, do not! Please do not! Dey vill be very angry mit me."

"Do you really think so? Maybe so. At all events, I'll turn you over and
we'll see what comes."

Securing a firmer hold upon the shoulder of his little prisoner, Noel
speedily withdrew from the place and soon placed the miscreant in the
hands of the proper authorities.

Only a partial explanation was given by the young soldier, and as he
hastened back to his place on the field his anger against the little
sutler soon was in a measure forgotten in the task that still confronted
him.

The division in which Noel and Dennis were fighting was on the flank of
the Union army. Because of this fact they were not among the first to
start in pursuit of the Confederates that Monday morning. It was
necessary for the greater part of the army to cross South Mountain by
one road, the turnpike.

Noel, who had been greatly depressed by the struggle through which he
had gone the preceding day, was surprised to find that Dennis and many
of his comrades were highly elated. They had succeeded in driving the
rebels from the strong position which they had held on South Mountain,
and up its steep and rocky sides they had forced their way against
fearful odds. If they could do so well where rocks and steep ascents had
to be overcome, what might they not be able to do in the valley beyond
the mountain?

A spirit of confidence at this time, indeed, of overconfidence, as later
events proved, possessed the soldiers. They had jumped to the conclusion
already that General Lee had been beaten, and therefore the overwhelming
defeats suffered by the Union army at Bull Run now were balanced.

The rejoicing which had come to the army was modified somewhat when the
men found that no response was given to their inquiry as to the
whereabouts of the enemy. They were not aware that the Confederates at
this time had withdrawn beyond South Mountain.

In the task in which Noel had been engaged he had discovered how
closely together the desperate charges had brought the men of the two
contending armies. There were cases where not more than ten paces
intervened between the fence and the place where some of the poor
fellows were lying in their last sleep.

In the presence of such scenes the bitterness of the struggle was almost
forgotten, and the eyes of the dead, that were staring upward so fixedly
in the gray of the morning hour, neither expressed nor aroused any
emotion except sorrow.

Unaware of the cause, the young soldier's feelings were somewhat numb
from the tension of the preceding hours. Even Levi now was almost
forgotten and the husband of Sairy Ann's sister had faded from his
thoughts.

At last about ten o'clock, after many protests and much growling on the
part of the boys in blue over what they were pleased to call an
unnecessary delay, orders were received for the division to be marched
toward Boonesborough.

Noel and Dennis were marching side by side, but the most of their
comrades were unknown.

As the men advanced, Noel saw that the turnpike far ahead was filled
with troops, artillery and wagons that were hurrying up the pass. The
fields on either side were white with army wagons and far down the road
that extended toward Frederick City a moving, living, advancing tide of
men was pushing steadily forward.

Suddenly some one broke into a song, and in a moment "Maryland, My
Maryland" was taken up by the soldiers, although the words frequently
changed to suit the feelings of the different singers. Even Noel,
heavy-hearted as he was, smiled as he heard Dennis shouting, "_My_
Maryland," with special emphasis upon the "My."

"Dennis, what are you doing?" inquired Noel as the line halted for a
brief respite.

"Singin', sor."

"You call that singing, do you?"

"Shure, and what is it, if it isn't singin'?"

"That's what I wanted to find out. That was the reason why I asked my
question. If you call it singing, why, I suppose I shall have to take
your word for it."

"'Tis a beautiful country," said Dennis as he surveyed the scene which
extended far on either side. Fertile fields and a rolling plateau that
terminated in the distant hills appeared doubly beautiful in the soft
light of that September day.

At their next halt, which was at the home of a family that proved to be
loyal to the Union cause, the good woman of the house brought forth all
the food she possessed and divided it among the soldiers.

Laughingly she was telling some of the boys in blue of one of her own
relatives who had been in her home two days before the battle of South
Mountain. Apparently all that he feared was that the demoralized army of
the North, which had been driven from the Peninsula and out of Virginia,
could not now be induced to enter into a contest.

"We are going to wipe them out this time, once and for all," the man had
said. "And then for Philadelphia and New York! These Yankees will find
out for the first time what war means when we get into their country! As
for Maryland, we'll lose the last man before we'll retreat."

Before day broke that morning this woman had been aroused by a band of
half-starved and weaponless men, clad in suits of ragged gray who
stopped near her residence begging for food. A panic apparently had
seized upon the men. She had heard one of these soldiers say that if he
could only be taken prisoner he would be happy. In this crowd she had
discovered the relative who confidently and positively had foretold the
dire results of the coming battle for the Yankees.

"Why, John, is that you?" she had inquired. "I thought you were going to
Philadelphia."

"It's no use talking about that, aunt," he replied foolishly. "We have
been badly whipped, and I don't know where a single man or a single gun
of my battery can be found to-day."

At this time a small body of men was seen approaching bearing a flag of
truce. At its head rode a Confederate surgeon in a gray uniform which
had been highly ornamented. On the end of a stick, which he held high,
was a white handkerchief. The surgeon was accompanied by four soldiers
carrying a blood-stained stretcher, while in charge of the little band
was one of the boys in blue. Upon its arrival the leader requested to
see the ranking official.

In response to his expressed wish the surgeon was taken to General
Hooker and by him was granted permission to secure and bear off the body
of one of the rebel colonels, who supposedly had fallen in the fight.

The long waiting by the division continued. Hunger as well as thirst now
tormented the men. When the division at last moved forward, it was
discovered that the advance then was to be to Keedysville, about six
miles distant.

The little hamlet presented a strange appearance upon the arrival of the
soldiers. The few stores and hotels were filled to overflowing with men
clad in uniform. When night fell it seemed as if the train of wagons
that steadily was moving past was almost unending. On the following day,
when the men reached Keedysville, their progress was halted by a
counter-current of cavalry and artillery moving to the right of what
later proved to be a great battle-field.

At this time no one seemed to be positive as to just the position the
enemy were occupying. Many of the boys in their enthusiasm believed that
they had fled across the Potomac. Such opinions, however, were met by
those who believed that the armies were on the eve of a desperate
conflict.

When daylight came the following morning (Wednesday September 17, 1862),
a frequent discharge of artillery, apparently about two miles to the
right, soon gave place to a roar that was incessant, and then every one
in the army knew that a battle already was beginning. The straggling
little village was filed with orderlies and officers rushing hither and
thither on various duties.

The division advanced until it was on the east side of the Antietam
Creek. Beyond, were the enemy, flanked by the Potomac River. It seemed
at first like an unfavorable position and one filled with deadly peril
for the men in gray.

At this time Noel was not able to see any indication of a hidden force
in the fields and woods opposite the position where his division had
taken their stand. As yet, too, very few missiles had come as far as the
place which he and his comrades were occupying. Ambulances could now be
seen carrying off the more desperately wounded, or on their way back to
the field for their new freights of agony.

The fighting seemed to be going on mostly on the right. The roar of the
artillery and of the infantry became louder and more terrifying. As Noel
advanced with his comrades he passed improvised hospitals sheltered in a
little valley. Farmhouses and barns were all occupied now, and still the
stretcher-bearers brought in from the front a constant and fresh
addition of suffering men.

It was no time for faint-heartedness, however. Into the smoke and the
din of battle, out of which the bleeding forms had come, Noel and Dennis
must enter.

So many were the stragglers from the field that the cavalry was brought
up and stationed on the Hagerstown Turnpike and with drawn sabers
prevented the withdrawal of any more.

On his right Noel saw troops drawn up in line of battle. On his left
were other troops in a grove near the road. To his surprise as they
advanced he saw some of the troops apparently falling back. A cry passed
through the ranks that General Hooker, who was in command of the
division, had been wounded and that the right wing had been compelled to
fall back. There were rumors also that the enemy far outnumbered the
right wing and that there was great danger also for the left.

Beyond all that, Stonewall Jackson, a name that every Yankee soldier had
come to respect, had sheltered his reserves behind some rocky ledges and
had thrown up long lines of fence-rail breastworks.

A feeling of intense and bitter disappointment now took possession of
the Union men. The division was sent ahead and drawn up in line of
battle on both sides of the Hagerstown Turnpike. It seemed at that
moment as if the Confederate soldiers were about to break through the
army of the North and repeat the successes which they had won on the
field of Bull Run.

One of the batteries in Noel's division had lost thirty-eight officers
and men and twenty-eight horses. Two of his comrades had tried to
appease their desperate feeling of hunger by a hoe-cake which they had
taken from the haversack of a dead rebel soldier. One general in the
division had leaped forward in a critical moment and personally sighted
the guns when the enemy was almost upon him. Another general, of a
different division, had ordered his brigade to advance, but he himself
had remained behind.

Apparently matters once more were moving well, but just as Dennis and
Noel were pushing with their comrades into some woods, they found
themselves with others confronted by fresh troops who instantly stopped
them with volleys so terrible that a retreat was unavoidable. Neither
Noel nor Dennis knew at this time that the battle of Antietam really was
nearly over. As yet, to both boys there seemed to have been set only
the first act of the tragedy.

On the left the din of battle had long been heard and out in front the
cannon thundered, and every moment an attack was expected on the
division where Noel and Dennis were.

The cavalry now rested upon the ground in long lines. Its ranks were
somewhat broken and thin. Steadily in their rear, the various reserves
were being stationed to aid in resisting the attack which was expected.
The men of each brigade in turn were stacking their arms and then were
lying down.




CHAPTER XXXII

CONCLUSION


Meanwhile the infantry, expecting the attack, rested on the ground in
long lines. They were broken lines at the very best, and whenever Noel
and Dennis glanced about them each felt a pang when he saw how many of
the regiments, now gathered about the torn and bullet-riddled colors,
were thin. At times, squads of men on the borders of the woods were
seen, who were doubtless rebel pickets or persons who were curious, like
some of the Yankee soldiers.

The captain walked down the lines in which Noel and Dennis were
numbered. One of the men, holding up a large piece of pork on his sword,
said, "Look here, captain! This is the allowance of pork for my men. I
guess I shall have to eat it all, as I am the only one left."

At such a time many wild rumors have full swing. About four o'clock
General McClellan, with his staff, rides along the lines and is greeted
with great enthusiasm by his men. The report now is that the Union
soldiers have been partly successful, the Confederates having been
driven back, although they are still holding firmly the new position
which they have taken.

An orderly stops for a word with Dennis and Noel. He shows a loaf of
bread which he has obtained from a near-by farmhouse and a little piece
of butter which he ingeniously has put in a hole cut in the loaf. All
three, upon their comrade's invitation, sit down to enjoy the rare
treat. The pleasure is increased by a cup of coffee, for the men now
have been permitted to light fires by which to cook their rations. It
looks very much as if the fighting for the day, at least, is ended.

Suddenly, about five o'clock, as abruptly as thunder is heard under a
clear sky, a volley of shot and shell begins to strike or pass over and
about the place where the men are gathered.

Before the officers are fairly able to mount their horses the thirty
great guns, which have been waiting for this opportunity for hours,
begin to sweep the woods and the cornfield with their deluge of shot and
shell. The roar of the artillery soon is almost deafening. The thirty
guns are being discharged one by one as rapidly as the men are able to
load them. The little hillside actually shakes under the force of the
shots. Dennis murmurs, "Faith! 'Tis not only the hill, but the whole
planet that's shaking like a leaf now."

It is supposed that the fire of the rebels is introductory to an attack
by their infantry. In view of this fact, the troops in front are
notified to hold themselves in readiness, while those in the rear are
called upon to fall in and to take their arms and advance closely to the
crest of the hill and also to lie down there and to be ready for action
at any moment. All the reserves are prepared and ready. The wagons now
are drawn by galloping horses. The right wing is believed to be ready.

General Meade, who, after the wounding of General Hooker, succeeds to
the command of the corps, rides up to the crest of the hill on which
Noel and Dennis are stationed and studies the position of the batteries
of the enemy almost as coolly as if he were at a review. Already there
is a bullet-hole in his cap, but the quietness of the great leader in
the midst of the confusion and peril is most impressive. He gives his
orders to make ready for the storm.

Noel saw shots strike so close to his own comrades as to fling the dust
over them. The heavy cannonading by the enemy continues for at least
ten minutes, and it is with a great feeling of relief that Noel, as he
glances about him, is unable to see that any men had been killed or
wounded. Such artillery firing at long range is terrific to hear, but is
seldom fatal.

Later it was learned from some of the prisoners that General Jackson's
plan had been to attack with his infantry after the heavy cannonading.
Just before sunset was his favorite hour for such an order. The
tremendous fire of the Union batteries, however, plainly showed him how
well prepared his enemies were, and in a brief time his cannon ceased to
play and the Union guns also became silent.

Fighting by the right wing ceased when the cannonading stopped. When the
officers were convinced that there had been an end to the immediate
attempt, they permitted every man to bring from the neighboring farms
bundles of straw with which beds were made, and, still in line of
battle, all soon stretched themselves upon these improvised
resting-places.

The weary gunners tried to make themselves comfortable alongside their
guns. The pickets were standing, with every sense alert, close to the
rebel lines, and prepared to give instant warning should a night attack
by the Confederates be attempted. Not an officer removed even his sword.
The horses, tied to near-by fences, were standing saddled and ready for
instant use.

There was no tree above the heads of Noel and Dennis, and as they lay
looking up at the stars, for the first time in twenty-four hours the
tired boys were able to think of the experiences they had undergone.
Within a space of four square miles two hundred thousand men were lying.
Some of them were stiff and stark and with sightless eyes were looking
up into the pitying heavens. Some were stretched on beds in the
improvised hospitals or lying wounded and bleeding under the trees.
Others, even in their sleep, are clasping the deadly weapons with which
on the morrow they are expecting to renew the awful scenes of the day.

It was long before daylight the following morning when the little hill
upon which Noel and Dennis had been sleeping was alive with men
preparing their simple breakfasts and getting ready for the fighting of
the coming day.

Somehow there was a feeling of confidence among the soldiers that the
day was to be marked with victory. They now had every opportunity to
drive the rebels into the Potomac, or perhaps to capture their entire
army.

But when sunrise came and hour after hour passed without any orders to
advance, gradually a feeling of bitter disappointment took possession of
the men. The day dragged on, the batteries still remained in position,
and the infantry still were resting on their arms. In the position held
by the enemy silence brooded throughout the day. It was nearly dark when
orders came to be ready for action at sunrise on the morrow.

With such information the growlers ceased their complaints and there was
a common hope that the enemy would not escape.

"'Tis only put off one day," said Dennis. "We'll either drive the
Johnnies into the Potomac or carry them with us back to Washington."

The following day the men were aroused at three o'clock in the morning.
There was no haste in the orders or in the movements of the men. They
ate their breakfast and drank their coffee, and then all made ready for
battle. But again the hours passed and there was no decisive action. At
eight o'clock it was learned that the Confederates had slipped away and
had withdrawn across the Potomac, and doubtless by this time were safely
in Virginia.

The river into which the Union soldiers had believed they would drive
their enemies had now become the best defense of Lee's army. The battles
of South Mountain and Antietam were robbed of any decisive significance.
It is true that Lee's advance into the North was blocked, and that he
was compelled to turn back to defend the rebel capital, but he had shown
his skill by successfully evading his foes and at the same time
protecting his army as he withdrew.

The following day was Sunday. All signs of storms had passed, and not
since the Union army had departed from Washington had finer marching
weather been seen.

The sound of distant cannonading once more revived the hope that General
McClellan would follow the retiring Confederates and that another battle
would soon be fought. The roar of the great guns, however, was merely a
harmless artillery duel across the river.

The hours of the long day dragged on and still the men were not ordered
to advance. The lack of action was beginning to tell strongly upon their
spirits and there were many complaints to be heard now on every side
over the meaningless, or at least the misunderstood, delay.

It was eleven o'clock at night before it was reported that orders had
been received for the corps to advance to Harper's Ferry the following
day. But the following day came and went, and in turn was followed by
other days until a month had passed and the advance still was postponed.
The battle-field was still the scene of the camp, and it was only after
some time had elapsed that the soldiers understood that they had been
left to help guard the Potomac so that General Lee might not attempt to
cross it again and try another battle.

The terrible excitement and fatigue, the privations and the continued
strain upon the nerves and feelings of the men were followed now by a
calm and monotony that was most deadly. Once a week each soldier was on
guard, taking his turn as a sentinel. Part of each day was given to
drill. At sunset there was a brief parade, but the rest of the day was
largely his own.

Because of such conditions the soldiers were exposed to many
temptations, and in spite of the sorrow which followed the battle of
Antietam there were many pranks being played.

One day, which was unusually warm, Noel had been sent to the
quartermaster's office on some errand for his colonel. He was standing
behind an improvised desk and consequently was partly hidden from the
sight of any one who entered.

In the midst of his task of copying certain details which his colonel
desired he was startled by the sound of a familiar voice. Without being
seen he peered from behind his stand and saw that Levi Kadoff had
entered the quartermaster's place.

"Ish dis de quartermaister's office?" inquired the sutler timidly.

"It is," replied the officer in charge.

"Vell, Mr. Quartermaister, I chust got mine sutler's goots and I vant
von place vere I shall sell dose dings to the soldiers. You gife me von
place, hey?"

"It is against my orders, sir, to give permission to anybody to put up
tents or houses for the sale of goods of any kind."

"I vill not take mooch room for dese leedle dings," pleaded Levi.

"Come back and see me later."

"Ven I comes?"

"About an hour."

"Vell, captain, I comes chust as you say. I send you some of mine fine
goots."

True to his word not long afterwards a basket, with a card attached
bearing the following address, was received,--

    "_To Captain Vesh,
    Qr. Maister._"

Levi had departed before Noel had been able to make any protest.
Confident that he would return, however, he explained to Captain Vesh
what Levi's former dealings had been and also expressed his surprise
that the little sutler had not been hanged.

In a brief time Levi again appeared, and as he entered the office he
said smilingly, "Vell, captain, I comes to look at dot leedle place vot
ve spoke about dis morning."

"What place, sir?"

"Vy, dot place vat you give me to put up von leedle dent vere I sells
mine goots."

"You must be mistaken, sir. I told you distinctly that we did not grant
any such privileges."

"Vell, now, captain, look at dis. Dis morning I sends you von fine
basket which costs me sixteen dollars mit de wholesale."

"You thought you would bribe me, did you?" replied the quartermaster in
apparent anger. "Now, I'll give you two hours to get out of this place."

As Levi turned to depart, he obtained a glimpse of Noel's face and fled
precipitately.

Nor was Noel afterward able to learn the fate of the little sutler.
Apparently each side had taken him as friendly to itself, or else the
crafty little trader had persuaded both that the charges against him
were untrue. Whether he was hanged as a spy, shot as a deserter, or was
able to continue his nefarious trading with the soldiers was a mystery
which never was made clear.

The husband of Sairy Ann's sister, Noel later discovered among the
wounded prisoners, and in return for the help which he himself had
received, he was able in many ways to aid the wounded man.

The continually repeated question among the men, "When do we move?" was
not answered until a month or more had elapsed. Then, when the army was
moved to Harper's Ferry, Noel there learned that his brother Frank had
been among the prisoners taken by the Confederates and sent to Libby
Prison. Disheartening as the information was, it did not decrease the
interest of Noel when late in October his division was ordered to move
toward Virginia.

It was plain now that the campaign was to be transferred again to the
State in which Noel and Frank had had their first experiences in the
army. The enthusiasm of Dennis was great, and in his loudest tones he
joined in the song of the men when they departed from Harper's Ferry,--

    "John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
    His soul is marching on."

The boys in blue were somewhat cast down, but not despairing. The Union
army had outnumbered the Confederates nearly two to one in the recent
battle of Antietam.

Among the subordinate Union commanders there had been great energy
displayed, but no one was able to escape the conclusion that on the
Federal side the battle had been badly fought and many great
opportunities had been neglected.

In the battle of Antietam the Federals had lost more than twelve
thousand men and their enemies ninety-five hundred. All the troops of
the latter had been engaged in the fight, but only about two thirds of
the Union army had seriously entered into the struggle.

In a measure the friends of the Union were content that Lee's
threatening invasion of the North had been thwarted. The great Southern
general had fought a pitched battle, but had not destroyed his foe.
There was no escape, however, from the conclusion that Lee's plan to
invade the North had failed, and that the struggle now was to return to
Virginia soil, a fact which Dennis O'Hara and Noel Curtis and his
brother soon were to learn.


THE END

       *       *       *       *       *


Dr. Tomlinson's Books


The American boy will never tire of reading tales of the early colonial
days and especially of the desperate encounters and struggles of the
colonists with the natives of the forest.

Dr. Tomlinson has read widely and has collected a mass of incident
through family tradition and otherwise, which he has skillfully
incorporated in the historical frameworks of several exceedingly
interesting and instructive stories. He has the knack of mixing history
with adventure in such a way as to make his young readers absorb much
information while entertaining them capitally. His historical tales are
filled with an enthusiasm which it is well to foster in the heart of
every healthy-minded and patriotic American boy.

The plots are all based upon events that actually occurred; and the boy
heroes play the part of men in a way to capture the hearts of all boy
readers. Dr. Tomlinson shows scrupulous regard for the larger truths of
history, and the same care that would naturally go into a book for older
readers.


The Boys of Old Monmouth

A story of Washington's campaign in New Jersey in 1778.


A Jersey Boy in the Revolution

This story is founded upon the lives and deeds of some of the humbler
heroes of the American Revolution.


In the Hands of the Redcoats

A tale of the Jersey ship and the Jersey shore in the days of the
Revolution.


Under Colonial Colors

The story of Arnold's expedition to Quebec; of war, adventure, and
friendship.


A Lieutenant Under Washington

A tale of Brandywine and Germantown.


The Rider of the Black Horse

A spirited Revolutionary story following the adventures of one of
Washington's couriers.


The Red Chief

A story of the massacre at Cherry Valley, of Brant, the Mohawk chief,
and of the Revolution in upper New York state.


Marching Against the Iroquois

An exciting story based on General Sullivan's expedition into the
country of the Iroquois in 1779.


Light Horse Harry's Legion

A stirring story of fights with marauding Tories on the Jersey Pine
Barrens.


The Camp-Fire of Mad Anthony

This story covers the period between 1774 and 1776 and follows the
adventures of the Pennsylvania troops under "Mad Anthony" Wayne.


Mad Anthony's Young Scout

A story of the winter of 1777-1778.


The Champion of the Regiment

An absorbing story of the Siege of Yorktown, with Noah Dare, so well
known to Tomlinson readers, for hero.


The Young Minute-Man of 1812

The young hero joins the garrison at Sacket's Harbor, is sent on an
expedition down the St. Lawrence, and takes part in McDonough's victory
on Lake Champlain.


The Young Sharpshooter

The experiences of a boy in the Peninsular Campaign of 1862, under
McClellan.


The Young Sharpshooter at Antietam

Deals with Lee's invasion of Maryland in 1862, relating further exciting
adventures of Noel, the young sharpshooter.


Young Americans In The British Isles.