The Courier Of The Ozarks Part 25

"Don't be alarmed, pard," laughed Harry. "I reckon yo' un and I air in the same cla.s.s. I'm from Shelby an' on my way to join Porter. Yo' un knows we 'uns air to make it hot for the Yanks in Palmyra. I have lost my way, an' want to know whar I kin find the direct road to Palmyra."

"Yo' un only have to foller the trail to the branch, cross it and yo' un will strike the main road. But I kalkerlate to have a hand in that little job at Palmyra myself. Have three or four debts to pay, one agin old Allsman. He reported me to McNeil as a dangerous char'ter. He'll never peach agin if I lay hands on him."

"Thank yo' un. I'll be goin'," said Harry, "or I'm afraid I'll be late."

"Hold on, pard," said the man. "I be jest waitin' for Steve and Sol Jones. We 'uns will all go together."

"Sorry I can't wait. I must be goin'," replied Harry, turning to go.

"Stop!" cried the man, hoa.r.s.ely.

Harry wheeled, his hand on his revolver.

"Better not," drawled the man, with a grin. "The old woman has you kivered and she's a dead shot."

Harry glanced up. Sure enough the woman, a gaunt, muscular virago, stood in the door, a rifle at her shoulder, and Harry saw that he could look right into the muzzle.

"Ha! Ha!" chuckled the fellow, "yo' un didn't count on that, did yo' un?

Fact is, I didn't take to yo' un's story and I giv' the old woman a sign to look out. If yo' un be from Shelby, how'd it happen yo' un got in this timber along the branch. Yo' un may be all right, and if yo' un air it will be no hurt for yo' un to wait and go with we 'uns. Thar, stop fingering that thar revolver, or I'll giv' the old woman the wink.

Better up with yo' hands. Thar, I heah Steve and Sol comin'. If yo' un don't prove all right, we 'uns will have a hangin' bee before we 'uns start. Hands up, I tell yo' un."

Harry was still looking into the muzzle of the rifle. It seemed to him as big as a cannon. His hands slowly went up, but as they did so he gave a low, peculiar whistle. Like a flash a great black body bounded through the air and Bruno's teeth were buried in the shoulder of his victim. The force of the impact threw the fellow over, and as he fell Harry ducked.

The woman fired, but the shot went wild. In a moment Harry had wrenched the gun from her, and with a blow bent the barrel of the rifle around the door frame. But now was heard the approach of horses, and the cries of men. Steve and Sol Jones were coming, and the sound of the rifle shot had alarmed them.

"Here, Bruno, come quick," commanded Harry. But Bruno was unwilling to release his victim, and it took a hard cuff and a sharp command to make him let go. Steve and Sol were now there, excitedly crying, "What's up?

What's up?"

Without a word Harry opened fire. One of the horses and the rider went down; the other wheeling his horse, was off like a shot, fortunately going the way Harry had come.

Without waiting to learn the result of his shots, Harry rushed for his horse and rode away. He reached the branch spoken of, and, crossing it, was soon on the highroad to Palmyra. But Porter and his men were still in between him and the place.

Harry now came to where he was acquainted with the country. He could ride around Porter, but it was a good six or eight miles out of his way.

"I can never do it and be in time," he groaned, "but I may do some good." Again his good horse was urged to a stiff gallop.

Day was just breaking and Harry was still three miles from Palmyra, but he had got past Porter, and would enter the place from the east. He was congratulating himself that he might still be in time, when the faint echo of firearms was borne to him on the breeze. Spurring his horse forward he rode some distance, then halted and listened.

The sounds of firing were unmistakable, but the reports were scattering, not as if any considerable number of men were engaged.

Harry reached the fair grounds on the eastern edge of town. Here he unstrapped the blanket from his saddle, and carrying it into a vacant stall, said to Bruno, "Old fellow, watch that blanket until I come back."

The dog lay down by the side of the blanket, and Harry patted his head and told him to keep his eyes open, then he left him, thinking to return shortly.

Harry now rode boldly forward, thinking he would have no trouble in pa.s.sing himself off as one of the guerrillas. He soon saw squads of them riding through the town and stopping at the different houses. He shuddered, for he knew Union men lived in every one of those houses.

The firing up in the center of the town now grew more severe.

"Seems as if they air havin' quite a time up thar," he said to a guerrilla whom he met.

"Yes," growled the fellow. "The Yanks have got into the court house and a brick store. Porter ordered them to surrender and they answered if he wanted them to com' an' take them. That they'd fight till the last man fell before they'd surrender. The Kunnel will find it hard work to get them out without cannon."

Harry's heart gave a great bound. If the Federals were in the court house and a brick store, they might hold out for hours. Might he not get help from Hannibal? McNeil was at Monticello, only thirty miles away, with part of the Merrill Horse. Would it be possible to bring help to the besieged men? He would try, and he turned up a side street.

"Hullo! Whar be yo' un goin'?" asked the guerrilla.

"Thar's a feller up here aways I've got an account to settle with, an'

I'll git him no matter what happens," exclaimed Harry, fiercely. Then a happy thought came to him, "Say," he asked, "didn't the Kunnel tell us whar to rally after this affair was over?"

"Yes, at Whaley's Mill," was the answer.

"Wall, I must git my man an' then I'll find yo' un," Harry answered.

On the outskirts of the village Harry met another guerrilla who told him he had better be getting back, as Porter had given up all hopes of capturing the soldiers in the court house, and they were going to gather up their booty and prisoners and evacuate the place.

"Very well," answered Harry. "Thar is one feller out heah I want to get, an' I'm goin' to get him."

"Better hurry up then," replied the guerrilla.

Porter had no idea of holding the place when he made the raid. His orders were that while some of his force should engage the soldiers at the court house, the rest should disperse through the city and arrest every Union man in the place; expressly were they ordered to find and arrest Andrew Allsman, who had made himself very obnoxious to them by acting as guide to the Union forces.

Allsman was found in bed. He was dragged out, ordered to dress himself, and taken away.

Porter expected to find a large quant.i.ty of arms and munitions of war in the place. In this he was disappointed, but he succeeded in taking the jail and liberating a number of prisoners.

One Union citizen was shot down as he stood in the door of his house.

The soldiers, in defending the court house, had a few men wounded. The guerrillas lost one killed and had several wounded.

When Porter withdrew from the place he halted on the outskirts of the village and paroled all his prisoners except four, and one of the four was Allsman.

This done he started for the appointed rendezvous at Whaley's Mill. He expected no immediate pursuit, for he knew McNeil was at Monticello.

CHAPTER XIV

TEN LIVES FOR ONE

Harry succeeded in clearing the village in safety, and, when about half a mile away, halted and looked back. Porter's men were already leaving the place, and Harry saw they had quite a number of prisoners. Porter halted in an open meadow near the edge of the village, and the prisoners were gathered together.

"My G.o.d!" groaned Harry. "Are they going to murder them all?"

But the prisoners were not murdered. They were all paroled with the exception of four, to whom allusion has been made.

Harry watched until he saw the paroled men start back to the village, and the guerrillas riding away. He drew a long breath of relief. The fact was, McNeil held so many of Porter's men prisoners that the guerrilla chieftain dare not command such wholesale murder.

"What is to be done now?" asked Harry of himself. "I know," he cried suddenly. "If I can make Monticello before night, McNeil can get to Whaley's Mill nearly as quickly as Porter. I'll make Monticello or die in the attempt."