Rodney The Partisan Part 13

"I have, and found him all right."

"Did you simply speak to him, or did you go in where he was?"

"I took a piece of fat wood from this fire and went in where he was," replied Harvey. "He was covered up head and ears, but I saw his boots sticking out from under the blanket."

"What time is it?"

"Two o'clock of a clear, starlight morning, and all's well," answered Harvey; and this made it plain that if he was not a soldier he was learning to be one, for he knew how to pa.s.s the sentry's call.

"Well; of all the dunderheads I ever heard of that Tom Percival is the biggest," thought Rodney, who had never in his life been more astounded. "Two o'clock in the morning and he lying fast asleep there in the corn-crib when he ought to be miles away! If I had known he was going to act like that, I would have seen him happy before I would have risked my neck trying to save his."

Rodney turned over on the other side with an angry flop and tried to go to sleep again; but that was quite out of the question. He could do nothing but rail at Tom for his stupidity, and wonder if the latter would have sense enough to hide the revolver before Mr. Westall or some other Emergency man went into his prison in the morning to bring him out. Two other men got up and left the cabin before day-light, and the Barrington boy knew they visited the corn-crib, for he heard their footsteps as they were going and returning; but as they both brought a few sticks of wood with them and mended the fire without saying a word, Rodney was forced to the conclusion that Tom was still safe in his prison.

Jeff, who was an early riser, was stirring long before the first signs of coming dawn could be seen through the numerous cracks in the walls of the cabin, and when he got out of his bunk it was a signal to all his men, who were prompt to follow his example. The Emergency men and Rodney arose also, for of course it was useless to think of sleeping longer with so many pairs of heavy boots pounding the dirt floor on which their blankets were spread. One of the wood-cutters set off for the river with a bucket in each hand to bring water for cooking and was.h.i.+ng purposes, others went to feed the stock, and Nels, at Mr. Westall's request, went to arouse Tom Percival.

"No doubt he will enjoy the fire after pa.s.sing the night in that cold corn-crib," said the Emergency man, spreading his hands over the cheerful blaze upon the wide hearth. "But whether or not he will enjoy the society into which he will be thrown before he has another chance to sleep, is a different matter altogether."

"And I think I should enjoy a little exercise," chimed in Rodney. "I am not much of a chopper, but perhaps I can get up an appet.i.te for breakfast."

So saying he went out into the wood yard and caught up an axe. His object was not to get up an appet.i.te (being in the best of health he always had that), but to place himself where he could see his old schoolmate when he was brought out of his prison. He would have given something handsome if he could have had a chance to ask Tom what his object was in staying in that corn-crib after he had been provided with the means of getting out, and a revolver with which to defend himself, but was obliged to content himself with the reflection that he had done all he could, and that if Tom wanted help he would have to look for it somewhere else.

"I wonder if he thinks the Union men at Pilot k.n.o.b will rescue him when he is brought there?" thought Rodney, as he swung the axe in the air. "If he is depending upon them, why did he run away from the settlement in the first place? What was the reason he-"

Rodney, who had kept one eye on Nels, paused with his axe suspended in the air and looked at the corn-crib. He saw the man throw down the bar and open the door, and heard him when he shouted:

"Come out of that and pay your lodging. We can't afford to keep a free hotel when bacon is getting so scarce that we can't even steal it. Out you come."

[Ill.u.s.tration: AN ASTONIs.h.i.+NG DISCOVERY.]

Rodney listened but did not hear any answer. Neither did Nels. The latter bent forward, stretched out his neck and seemed to be intently regarding something on the inside of the cabin. Then he straightened up and marched in with a vicious air, as if he was resolved that he would not stand any more fooling. He was gone not more than a minute, and then he came back with a jump and a whoop, holding Jeff's tattered blanket in one hand and a pair of well-worn boots in the other.

"Wake snakes!" yelled Nels, striking up a war-dance and frantically flouris.h.i.+ng the captured articles over his head. "He's skipped, that hoss-thief has! He's lit out, I tell ye!"

Almost at the same moment the wood-cutter who had gone out to attend to the stock appeared at the door of the stable and called out to Rodney:

"Say, you Louisanner fellar, where's your critter?" And then he stopped and looked at Nels. "Do you say the prisoner has lit out?" he shouted. "Then he's done took another hoss to holp him on his way."

"If he has taken mine he has got the best horse in the State," exclaimed Rodney, dropping his axe and starting posthaste for the stable. "You might as well give up now, Mr. Westall, for the colt is Copper-bottom stock and can travel for twenty-four hours at a stretch."

Again Rodney told himself that he had never been more astonished. He was delighted, too, to find that his friend had not forgotten the tricks he had learned at the Barrington Military Academy. He had not only arranged a "dummy" in the dark-making so good a job of it, too, that the man Harvey, with the light of a pine knot to aid him, had not been able to discover the cheat but he had left his boots sticking out from under the blanket and gone off in his stocking feet. But why had he taken Rodney's horse instead of his own? It was all right, of course, for a fair exchange was no robbery, but Rodney would have liked to have had that question answered.

"It seems that Jeff's dogs are not worth the powder it would take to blow them up," said he to Mr. Westall, who had followed close at his heels. "Your man has gone off with my horse, and I don't believe you have a nag in your party that can catch him. Now what's to be done?"

"I was a plumb dunce for placing any dependence on those dogs," replied the Emergency man, as soon as his surprise and anger would permit him to speak. "I might have known that they would not pay the slightest attention to Percival after they had seen him with us about the camp. Nels, was there anything in or around the corn-crib to show how he got out?"

"Not the first that I could see," answered the wood-cutter. "The bar was in its place, and when I opened the door I was as certain as I could be that I saw him laying there on the shucks with his feet sticking out. When I called and he didn't say nothing, I thought I would go in and s.n.a.t.c.h him up off'n them shucks in a way that would learn him not to play 'possum on me ary 'nother time; but when I s.n.a.t.c.hed I didn't get nothing but the blanket and empty boots."

"Harvey, he must have been gone when you went in there with your light," said Mr. Westall, reproachfully. "No doubt he threw the bar up with his hand, and his object in closing the door after him was to hide his escape as long as possible. If he went about midnight he has nearly six hours the start of us, on a swift horse and along a road he knows like a book. Let's go home, boys. We've done the best we could, but next time we'll try and be a little sharper."

While this conversation was going on Rodney had leisure to recover his composure, and was not a little relieved to see that there were no side-long glances cast toward himself. Mr. Westall seemed to think that he alone was to blame for the prisoner's escape, his four companions were quite willing that he should shoulder the responsibility, and no one thought of suspecting Rodney Gray.

"I am short a good horse by last night's work, and suppose I shall have to take Percival's to replace him, won't I?" said the latter. "It's that or go afoot, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is," replied the Emergency man.

"What sort of an animal is he and where is he?" continued Rodney. "I should like to have a look at him."

"He's out in the yard with the rest of the critters," said Nels. "I thought it best to keep yours in the shed because, being a stranger, the others might have fell to kicking him if they had all been turned in together."

"You did perfectly right," answered Rodney, who thought the man was trying to excuse himself for having put the roan colt where he could be so easily stolen. "And that's the reason Tom took him," he added, mentally. "If he had gone into the yard after his own nag, the others would have snorted and raised a fuss, and that would have started the dogs and prevented his escape. It's all right, but I would rather have my horse than that one."

The steed that was pointed out to him as the property of the escaped prisoner was a fine looking animal, and the fact that he had led his pursuers so long a chase, proved that he was not only a "goer" but a "stayer" as well; but for all that Rodney wished his friend Tom had thought it safe to take him and leave the roan colt.

"I have very serious objections to riding that horse through the counties back of here," said he at length. "He is too well known; and how do I know but that somebody will bounce me for a horse-thief?"

"That's a most disagreeable fact," said Mr. Westall, reflectively. "We gave a description of him to every man and boy we met along the road."

"That is just what I was afraid of. Can't you give me a trade for him?"

"I don't see how we can, for if we should take the horse back to the settlement with us, the folks there would be sure to ask how we came to get him without getting the thief, too; see?"

"Well, could you give me a bill of sale of him?" asked the boy, after thinking a moment.

"When I don't own a dollar's worth of interest in him?" exclaimed the Emergency man, opening his eyes. "Not much I couldn't. I tell you, young fellow, a horse is a mighty ticklish piece of property to have in these parts unless you can prove a clear claim to him."

"I want some sort of a paper to show to our friends along the road, don't I?" exclaimed Rodney, who began to think that his chances for seeing Price's army were getting smaller all the time.

"Oh, that's what you want, is it?" said Mr. Westall. "Well, I'll tell you what we'll do: You ride with us as far as the road where we turn off to go to Pilot k.n.o.b, and then I will give you a letter that will help you if you happen to fall in with any of our side; but you must be careful to know the men before you show the letter to them, for if you should pull it on a Union man, you would get yourself into trouble. Now let's get a bite to eat and start for home."

This made it evident that the Emergency man had become discouraged with his ill-luck, and did not intend to follow Tom Percival any farther.

CHAPTER IX.

ON THE ROAD.

The breakfast which Nels and his a.s.sistant placed upon the table in due time was eaten almost in silence, for those who sat down to it had so much thinking to do that they had no time for conversation. When Rodney Gray had satisfied his appet.i.te he opened his trunk and took from it a pair of saddle-bags, which he proceeded to fill with a variety of useful articles. His thoughtful mother had packed the trunk as full as it could hold, and Rodney could not take a quarter of the things with him. He knew he couldn't when he started; but the trunk was necessary to aid him in the game of deception he played upon the Baton Rouge telegraph operators. By taking it aboard the Mollie Able, together with a liberal supply of hay and grain for his horse, he led them to believe that he was really going on to St. Louis. After filling the saddle-bags, he rolled his blankets into a compact bundle so that he could strap them behind him on his horse.

"I have left a good many things in there that I can't take with me," said he, as he locked the trunk and handed the key to Jeff. "And if I don't come back and claim them within a reasonable time, you are at liberty to take them for your own. How much damage have I done your commissary department since I have been here?"

"How much damage have you done which?" exclaimed Jeff.

"How much do you want for the fodder I and my horse and that Yankee's horse have eaten?" repeated Rodney.

"Oh; why didn't you say so? You and your horse are as welcome as the flowers in May; and as for that thief's critter, I wouldn't let you pay a cent for him any way. But I'm sorry you aint got your own boss to ride to Springfield."

"So am I. Mine is the better horse, and besides I don't at all like the idea of having every man I meet take me for a thief. Have you a revolver you would be willing to sell at your own price?"