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"Shut the door," ordered Watson, "and go back to the kitchen."
Sullenly the farmer obeyed. When the two were once more by the blazing hearth, George and Macgreggor, who had been guarding Mrs. Hare and the negress, rushed forward to grasp the hands of their deliverer. They were about to congratulate him upon his successful nerve and diplomacy when he interrupted them.
"Don't bother about that," he said; "let us get away from here as soon as possible, before our kind host has a chance to play us any more tricks."
"I suppose you think yourself pretty smart, don't you?" snapped Hare, casting a spiteful glance at Watson.
"So smart," put in George, "that if you don't want to be laughed at from now until the day of your death you'd better not tell the citizens of Jasper about to-night's occurrences."
"Come, boys, let us be going," exclaimed Watson impatiently, as he offered his hand to Mrs. Hare, and said to that lady: "Thank you for the best supper we've had since we left--home."
Mrs. Hare refused to shake hands, but she regarded Watson with an admiring expression. "I won't shake hands with you," she replied, half smiling, "for you may be an enemy of the South, but I'm glad you've escaped hanging. You've too much grit for that. As for you, Jake, don't ever pretend to us again that you're the brainiest man in the county."
"Hold your tongue, woman," cried the amiable farmer.
In a couple of minutes the three travelers were striking out from the back of the house into the slush, and rain, and blackness of the night. Waggie was occupying his usual place inside a pocket of George's overcoat. He had supped regally at the Hares on bacon and bones, and he felt warm and at peace with the world.
Before the party had more than emerged from the garden (a task by no means easy in itself, on account of the darkness), something whistled by them, to the accompaniment of a sharp report. Looking behind them they saw the meagre form of Hare standing in the kitchen doorway. He held a rifle in his right hand. The kitchen fire made him plainly visible.
"Pretty good aim, old boy," shouted Macgreggor, "considering you could hardly see us. But I can see you plainly enough."
As he spoke he drew his revolver. Hare was already putting the rifle to his shoulder, preparing for another shot. He had hardly had a chance to adjust the gun, however, before he dropped it with a cry of pain and ran into the house. A bullet had come whizzing from Macgreggor, and struck the farmer in his right arm.
"Just a little souvenir to remember me by," laughed the lucky marksman.
"Hurry up!" cried Watson. "To-morrow night we must be in Marietta. We are still many miles away, and in a hostile, unknown country."
So the three pushed on into the gloom. The prospect of meeting James Andrews at the appointed place was not rea.s.suring. Their only hope was to keep on along the bank of the Tennessee River until they reached Chattanooga. From there they could take a train for Marietta.
"Shall we make it?" thought George. Waggie gave a m.u.f.fled bark which seemed to say: "Courage!"
CHAPTER III
MINGLING WITH THE ENEMY
It was weary work, this tramping along the Tennessee sh.o.r.e, through mud, or fields of stubble, over rocks, or amid dripping trees; but the three kept on towards Chattanooga for a couple of hours, until all the good effects of their warming at Farmer Hare's were quite vanished. Watson, having showed by his mother-wit and presence of mind that he was a man to be relied upon, had now resumed his privilege of growling, and gave vent to many angry words at the roughness and unutterable dreariness of the way.
"Why was America ever discovered by that inquisitive, prying old Christopher Columbus?" he grunted, after he had tripped over the stump of a cottonwood-tree, and fallen flat with his face in the slime. "If he had never discovered America there would never have been any United States; had there never been any United States there would never have been any war between North and South; had there never been any war between North and South I wouldn't be making a fool of myself by being down here. I wish that fellow Columbus had never been born--or, if he was born, that he had never been allowed to sail off for America. Ugh!"
In a few minutes they reached a log cabin situated on an angle of land where a little stream emptied itself into the now stormy waters of the Tennessee River. There was no light nor sign of life about the mean abode, and the travelers were almost upon it before they saw its low outline in the dense gloom.
"Look here," said Watson, calling a halt. "There's no use in our trying to go further to-night. It's too dark to make any sort of time. And we are far enough away now from Jasper to avoid any danger of pursuit--even if our amiable friend Mr. Hare should inform the Vigilants."
"Don't be afraid of that," said Macgreggor and George in the same breath.
Hare was not likely to relate a joke so much at his own expense as their clever escape had proved. Even if he did, they reasoned, the chances of capture were now rather slim, whatever they might have been when the three fugitives were nearer Jasper.
"Then let us get a few hours' sleep in this cabin," urged Watson. "Some negro probably lives here--and we can tell him our usual Kentucky story.
Give the door a pound, George, and wake him up."
George used first his hands and then his boots on the door, in a vain effort to make some one hear. He took Waggie out of his pocket, and the shrill little barks of the dog added to the noise as he jumped around his master's feet.
"Let's break the door down," urged Macgreggor. "The seven sleepers must live here. We might pound all night and not get in."
With one accord the three threw themselves vigorously against the door.
They expected to meet with some resistance, due to a bolt or two; but, instead of that, the door flew open so suddenly that they were precipitated into the cabin, and lay sprawling on the ground. It had been latched but neither locked nor bolted.
"We were too smart that time," growled Watson, as the three picked themselves up, to the great excitement of Waggie. "The place must be deserted. So much the better for us. We can get a little sleep without having to go into explanations."
He drew from inside his greatcoat, with much care, three or four matches.
By lighting, first one and then the others, he was able to grope around until he found the hearth of the cabin. Cold ashes marked the remains of a fire long since extinguished. His foot struck against something which proved to be a small piece of dry pine-wood. With the flame from his last match Watson succeeded in lighting this remnant of kindling. He carefully nursed the new flame until the stick blazed forth like a torch. Then the travelers had a chance to examine the one room which formed the whole interior of the lonely place. The cabin was deserted. It contained not a bit of furniture; nothing, indeed, save bare walls of logs, and rude mortar, and a clean pine floor.
"This palace can't be renting at a very high price," remarked Macgreggor, sarcastically.
"It will do us well enough for a few hours' sleep," said George.
Watson nodded his head in a.s.sent. "It's a shelter from the rain, at least," he said, "and that's something on such a pesky night." While he was speaking the rush of the rain without confirmed the truth of his words, and suggested that any roof was better than none. Ere long the pine stick burned itself out; the intruders were left in absolute darkness. But they quickly disposed themselves on the floor, where, worn out by the fatigues of the day and the stirring adventure of the evening, they were soon fast asleep. They had closed the door, near which Waggie had settled his little body in the capacity of a sentinel. George dreamed of his father. He saw him standing at the window of a prison, as he stretched his hands through the bars and cried out: "George, I am here--here! Help me!"
Then the boy's dream changed. He was back in the dark woods near Shelbyville, listening to Andrews as the leader outlined the expedition in which they were now engaged. In the middle of the conference some one cried: "The Confederates are on us!" George tried to run, but something pinned him to the ground--a wild animal was at his throat.
He awoke with a start, to find that Waggie was leaping upon his chest, barking furiously.
"Hush up, you little rascal!" ordered George. He felt very sleepy, and he was angry at being aroused. But Waggie went on barking until he had succeeded in awakening Macgreggor and Watson, and convincing his master that something was wrong.
"What's the trouble?" demanded Watson.
"Listen," said George, softly. He was on his feet in an instant, as he ran first to one and then to the other of the two windows which graced the cabin. These windows, however, were barricaded with shutters. He hurried to the door, which he opened a few inches. The rain had now stopped, and he could hear, perhaps a quarter of a mile away, the sound of horses moving cautiously through the mud, along the river bank. In a twinkling Watson and Macgreggor were at his side, straining their ears.
"Can it be cavalry?" asked Macgreggor.
"Mounted men at least," whispered Watson. "Perhaps the Vigilants are on our track, bad luck to them!"
"Can Hare have told them, after all?" queried George.
"Don't know about that," muttered Watson, "but I think we have the gentlemen from Jasper to deal with once again."
"Let's decamp into the darkness before it's too late," said Macgreggor.
"Come, come," whispered Watson impatiently. "If they are on the scent, and we leave this hut, they will only run us to earth like hounds after a fox."
The baying of dogs which were evidently accompanying the party gave a sudden and terrible effect to the force of Watson's argument. And now the Vigilants, if such they were, came nearer and nearer. The three Northerners who listened so anxiously at the doorway could already detect the sound of voices.
"There's but one thing for us to do," quickly murmured Watson. "We must stay in this cabin."
"But they won't pa.s.s the place by," urged Macgreggor. "If they know it to be deserted by a tenant this is the very reason for their looking in to see if we are hiding here. And when it comes to defending ourselves, how can we put up any sort of barricade?"
"When you can't use force, or hide yourself, try a little strategy,"