Tom of the Raiders Part 6

More than an hour later they saw a light buggy drawn by two horses approaching them; then they distinguished Wilson and the Sergeant. As the horses were reined in, Wilson jumped from the buggy.

"All right," he said, laughing. Then to the guards, "Thanks for your company, boys. Let's have our guns."

The guards looked at the Sergeant, puzzled. "Yep," said the Sergeant, "give the revolvers. These men are all right. The Captain says that we're to forget that we've ever seen 'em." He winked at Wilson, then reached out and slapped him on the back.

As the soldiers walked away, Wilson said: "Andrews arrived at Wartrace early this morning, just after these men left, and told the Captain to be watching for any of his men who might get caught by the sentries. When I went into the Captain's room, he looked at me and said, 'Andrews?' I said, 'Yes, sir.' In about two minutes I was on my way back. We have to cut down along a road about a hundred yards from here. I have a pa.s.s to get us by the Sentry. We have to make Manchester tonight."

Without wasting any time in talking, the three men hurried to the road that would take them past the Union lines and into the enemy country. A few minutes later a Sentry challenged them. Wilson produced his pa.s.s, the Sentry nodded and they went forward.

As they pressed on across the strip of country between the Northern and Southern pickets, General Mitchel's army of ten thousand men broke camp. Tents were struck, wagons loaded, knapsacks swung into place ... and the army stretched out to crawl wearily through that sea of jelly-like mud towards Huntsville.

It was early in the afternoon when Tom, Shadrack, and Wilson reached Manchester. They were tired and wet, but far worse than being tired and wet, they were hungry. They resolved that the first thing they should do was forage for food, and so they made their way directly to the small store in the center of the village. But there was little food to be had there. The storekeeper, a wizened old man who had lost all interest in selling things, told them that they might be able to buy something from one of the village people-he didn't know who had food for sale. Perhaps the Widow Fry-he indicated the general direction of the Widow Fry's house-might give them something. They turned away from the store disconsolately.

"It's raining again," remarked Shadrack. He turned his round face upward and gazed at the sky so solemnly that the others laughed. But there was no disputing the fact: the drizzle had commenced. To the south, in the direction of Chattanooga, the clouds had formed a dark, ominous wall, as though nature were raising a barrier to the expedition.

A man, hurrying to be home and out of the rain, came abreast of them. Tom stopped him.

"Can you tell us where the Widow Fry lives?" he asked.

"Yes," answered the man, and he glanced from Tom to Shadrack and Wilson deliberately. "But tell me why everyone is going to the Widow Fry's!"

"Everyone?" asked Wilson.

"Well, three men stopped me 'bout a minute ago and asked the same thing," the man replied. "Friends of yours, maybe?"

"No," answered Wilson. It was a truthful answer, too, for even if the men belonged to Andrews' party, they would not have recognized them. "The storekeeper said we could get something to eat there."

"Just traveling, are you!" persisted the man.

"So to speak," replied Wilson. He was determined not to risk trouble again, not to say that they were on their way to join the Southern army until they were well within the Southern lines.

"Come on, let's be getting in out of the rain," said Tom suddenly. "Don't let's stand here getting wet. Where is the Widow Fry's?"

"'Fraid of the wet, young man?" asked the native of Manchester.

"Yes," answered Tom bluntly.

"Well," drawled the man. He turned away from them sufficiently for Tom to nudge Wilson and motion up the street. Andrews was riding toward them! He was mounted upon a tired-looking bay, whose head drooped from hard riding. Andrews looked equally tired, for he sat hunched up in the saddle, his cape drawn tightly around him and his head bowed. "Y'see that clump of trees down yonder!" asked the man. "The Widow Fry's house is just beyond that. Are you journeyin' far?"

"Thank you," answered Tom. "No, we're not going far." They strode away, leaving the inquisitive citizen of Manchester staring after them. "The old fool!" Tom exclaimed. "He'd keep us there for an hour. I wonder where Andrews is going?" He hazarded a glance over his shoulder. Andrews was almost up to them.

"We'd better not speak to him until we're farther away from these houses," said Wilson.

"When we get down almost to the trees, I'll hail him."

They quickened their pace so that Andrews would come abreast of them near the Widow Fry's. Several times Tom glanced back to see if Andrews was watching them, but the leader's eyes seemed never to waver from the pommel of his saddle. The village street narrowed down to a country road, and the "plock-plock-plock" of the horse's hoofs on the mud sounded directly behind them.

"This is all right," said Wilson. "Let's slow down." Then, as the horse came up to them, Wilson said: "Andrews!"

"Follow me," Andrews answered. He touched his horse with his spurs. The animal was too tired to do more than quicken its step, but it carried Andrews ahead of them rapidly.

"He didn't seem surprised," said Wilson.

"He knew who we were when he saw us on the street, I think," answered Tom.

"Good-by, warm food," wailed Shadrack, for they were pa.s.sing the Widow Fry's. "Hot coffee, a plate full of stew, bread...."

"Don't talk about it," begged Tom.

"Fried eggs and ham," continued Shadrack.

"We'll put you down and feed you mud, if you say another word. Won't we, Wilson!"

"If we don't starve to death first," Wilson replied.

"Good-by, food," Shadrack wailed again. He picked up a stick from the roadside and commenced to gnaw it; then, surprised because the others were not eating, he broke the stick in three parts, and said: "Do have some of the nice tender steak, Mr. Burns and Mr. Wilson." They threw the sticks at him. He ran ahead of them. They finished the bombardment with hunks of mud, and chased after him, slipping and splas.h.i.+ng along the road.

Andrews had dismounted, and they saw him leave the road, leading his horse. They followed, and found him standing at the horse's head, waiting for them.

"How did you fare, men?" he asked. After they had told him of their adventures, he continued: "This rain is bad. I'm afraid of it. If it keeps up, General Mitchel will be delayed one day, perhaps two days. It will be impossible for him to reach Huntsville in time-impossible."

He appeared to be thinking aloud, rather than talking to them. His head was bowed, and he stroked the horse's neck mechanically.

"I dare not go back now in hopes of getting into communication with General Mitchel. It would never do to leave my men scattered about the country, waiting for me to return. Do you men, from your experience, think that the General can reach Huntsville on Friday?"

Wilson was first to answer. "I don't think so," he said. "Some of the forces might reach there in time, but I don't think the General can concentrate at Huntsville for an attack before Sat.u.r.day. Not with this mud to wade through."

"I agree with Wilson, sir," said Shadrack.

The three men turned to Tom. He felt suddenly embarra.s.sed. Three veterans asking him, a soldier of one day's campaigning, for an opinion! "From what I've heard of General Mitchel," he said, "I think he will do whatever he says he will do-even if he has to attack Beauregard's army single handed." Then he added, as though to explain away what he had said: "But that is nothing more than my opinion of the man. I ... I enlisted just yesterday."

"Yesterday!" exclaimed the three older men.

"Yes. My cousin was going on the raid, but he sprained his ankle. I came to enlist, and I begged the Captain to send me."

"I see," answered Andrews, studying him. After a moment he plunged again into consideration of the problems which lay before him. "I am going ahead on the theory that Mitchel will be one day late in reaching Huntsville," he said at last. "We must find all the men and tell them, so that there will be no confusion in Marietta."

"There are three men at the Widow Fry's back there," said Shadrack. "I don't know if they're some of ours or not."

Andrews nodded. "We'll find out presently. I'm worrying most about our engineers. I think I know where I can find Knight, but Brown has gone on ahead. Do any of you know Brown?"

"I do, sir," answered Tom. "We met at the same place last night, and then I got a good look at him in the lightning."

"Hm-m-m! That may help."

"Mr. Andrews," commenced Tom.

"Yes? What is it?"

"If we're going to delay a day, shouldn't someone be sent back with a message for General Mitchel?"