Castlemon Harry
Rodney The Partisan

CHAPTER XII
TWICE SURPRISED

During the whole of their journey through the woods, which did not come to an end until long after four o'clock that afternoon, the negro guide never once spoke to the boys unless he was first spoken to, nor did they see any living' thing except a drove of half-wild hogs, which fled precipitately at their approach. The plantation darkies, as a general thing, were talkative and full of life, and this unwonted silence on the part of their conductor finally produced an effect upon Tom Percival who, when the noon halt was called, took occasion to give the man a good looking over. He was not very well satisfied with the result of his examination.

"How much farther do you go with us, boy?" said he.

"Not furder'n Mr. Truman's house, an' dat aint above ten mile from hyar," was the answer.

"Truman," repeated Tom. "He's all right. I was told to stop on the way and call upon him for anything I might need. Hurry up and take us there; and when you do," he added in a whisper, to Rodney, "we'll say good-by to you. You were right; he's treacherous. He's a red-eyed nigger, and when you see a nigger of that sort you want to look out for him."

There was no need that they should "look out" for their guide now, because there was no way in which he could betray them secretly. The danger would arise when they stopped for the night or after they parted from him the next morning. Then he would be at liberty to go where he pleased, and as he was acquainted with every Union man for miles around, it would not take him long to spread among them the report that there was a Confederate stopping at Mr. Truman's house in company with a young Missourian who did not want his name spoken where other folks could hear it. If such a story as that should get wind, it would make trouble all around – for Mr. Truman as well as for themselves; for Truman's neighbors would want to know why he gave food and lodging to a Confederate when he claimed to be a Union man himself. The longer Rodney thought of these things, the more he wished himself safe back in Louisiana.

At half-past four by Tom Percival's watch the negro stopped his mule beside a rail fence running between the woods and an old field, on whose farther side was a snug plantation house, nestled among the trees. That was where Mr. Truman lived, and where Merrick had told them to stop for the night.

"And I suppose you will stay also, won't you?" said Tom, speaking to the darkey who bent down from his mule and threw a few of the top rails off the fence so that the boys could jump their horses over into the field.

"Who? Me? Oh no, sar," answered the guide, with rather more earnestness than the occasion seemed to demand. "Marse Merrick done tol' me to be sure an' come home dis very night, an' I 'bleeged to mind him, sar."

"I'll bet you don't mind him," thought Tom, as he and Rodney rode into the field and waited for the negro to build up the fence again. "There's a bug under that chip and I know it."

The appearance of three horsemen riding up to the back door in this unexpected way created something of a flutter among the female portion of Mr. Truman's family, and even the farmer himself, who presently came to the door of one of the outbuildings, seemed to be a little startled; but when a second look showed him that one of Mr. Merrick's negroes was of the number, he came up to the pump near which the boys had dismounted.

"This is Mr. Truman, I believe," said Tom.

"Well, yes; that's my name, but I don't reckon I ever saw you before," replied the man cautiously.

"Do you know this boy who has been acting as our guide?"

"Oh, yes. I know all of Merrick's boys, so it must be all right. But you see in times like these – "

"I understand," Tom interposed, for Mr. Truman talked so slowly that the boy was afraid he might never get through with what he had to say. "In times like these you don't know whom to trust. That's our fix, exactly; and we shouldn't have thought of stopping here if Merrick and Hobson had not told us who and what you are. Go on, boy, and tell Mr. Truman who and what we are, where we came from, where we want to go, and all about it."

The negro was talkative enough now, and the boys had no fault to find with the way in which he complied with Tom's request except in one particular – he had too much to say regarding Rodney Gray's loyalty to the Union, and his undying hostility toward everybody who was in favor of secession. He dwelt so long upon this subject that Tom Percival, fearing Mr. Truman's eyes would be opened to the real facts of the case, thought it best to interrupt him.

"Yes; we passed the night in company with Mr. Hobson and five of his friends who have been compelled to go into hiding," said he, "and while we were eating supper in Mr. Merrick's kitchen, some of Thompson's men came to the gate and asked for him."

"I reckon it's all right," said Mr. Truman, who did not believe that his friend Merrick would have taken these two young fellows into his house if he had not had the best of reasons for thinking that they could be trusted. "What did you say your names might be?" he added, beckoning to one of his darkies and indicating by a wave of his hand that the horses were to be housed and fed.

While the guide was telling his story he had not mentioned any names. He had simply referred to the boys as "dese yer gentlemen." designating the one of whom he happened to be speaking by a nod or a jerk of his thumb. Tom waited until the horses were led away and then said, in a low tone:

"My friend's name is Gray, and as you have already heard he is from Louisiana. The Secesh were too thick there to suit him and so he came up here, hoping to find everybody Union."

"Humph!" said Mr. Truman.

"He has found out his mistake," continued Tom. "Ever since he has been in the State he has been dodging rebels, and has traveled more miles in the woods than he has on the highway. Do you know Justus Percival?"

"Do you?" asked Truman in reply.

"I ought to. He's my uncle, and Percival is my name; but I wish you wouldn't address me by it unless you know who is listening."

"But when you left Cedar Bluff landing you were riding a roan colt and had no boots on," said Mr. Truman, first looking all around to make sure that there was no one near to catch his words. "I was sorter on the watch for such a fellow, for I thought maybe he'd need help."

"Great Scott!" said Rodney, who was very much surprised. "Has that man Swanson been through here? It can't be possible. His crowbait of a mule couldn't carry him so far."

"I don't know anybody of that name, but I know about the roan colt that wasn't stolen from Pilot Knob," replied the farmer. "Let's go in and see if the women folks can't scare up a bite to eat."

"One moment, please," Tom interposed. "Do you know anything about Merrick's boy? Is he Union or Secesh?"

"Union and nothing else. The niggers all are, but of course they are afraid to say so."

"That boy has got red eyes," said Tom. "And you know as well as I can tell you that a darkey of that sort is always treacherous. We don't like the way he has been listening to our talk ever since we left Hobson's camp. Couldn't you make some excuse to keep him here till morning?"

"Job!" yelled the farmer; and when he had succeeded in calling the attention of the darkey who was attending to the horses, he went on to say: "Tell Merrick's boy that he mustn't go off the place to-night. The patrols are picking up everybody who shows his nose on the road after dark, white as well as black, and Price's men burned two houses last night not more'n five miles from here."

"Is that a fact?" inquired Tom, who for the first time since Rodney met him began to show signs of uneasiness.

"It's the gospel truth, more's the pity, and we in this settlement don't know how soon we may be called upon to defend our lives and property. There are not many of us and we are not organized; but we're tolerable active and know how to shoot. Now let's go in."

As Rodney Gray afterward remarked, Mrs. Truman "seemed to know without any telling just how the thing stood," for the welcome she gave them was very cordial and friendly.

"We can give you plenty to eat," she said, extending a hand to each, "but I am not sure that you would be safe in accepting lodging if we were to offer it to you. Mr. Truman has no doubt told you that Price's men were quite close to us last night. We saw the fires they lighted shining upon the clouds, and wondered how long it would be before some of our friends would stand and watch our burning houses."

Mrs. Truman continued to talk in this strain while the supper was being made ready, and Tom Percival now and then glanced at his companion as if to ask him if he thought Mr. Merrick's Secession wife was the only brave woman there was in Missouri. The calmness with which she spoke of the troublous times she saw coming upon the people of the nation, was in direct contrast to the behavior of her excitable husband, who more than once flew into a rage and paced up and down the floor shaking his fists in the air. Rodney had often seen Confederates lash themselves into a fury while denouncing the "Northern mudsills," but he had never before seen a Union man act so while proclaiming against the demagogues who were bent on destroying the government. It showed that one could be as savage and vindictive as the other, and gave him a deeper insight into the nature of the coming struggle than he had ever had before. Good Confederate that he was, he began asking himself if it wouldn't be money in the pockets of the Southern people if they would rise in a body and hang Jefferson Davis and his advisers before they had time to do any more mischief. In the days that followed, Rodney Gray was not the only one who wished it had been done.

When darkness came on there were no lamps lighted to point out the position of the house to any roving band of marauders who might happen to be in the vicinity. The front door was thrown open, and Mrs. Truman sat just inside the room to which it gave entrance, so that she could see the road in both directions. She explained to the boys that there had once been shade trees in the yard and flowering shrubs growing along the fence, but they had been cut away for fear that they would afford concealment to some sneaking Secesh who might take it into his head to creep up and shoot through the window. Mr. Truman had gone out to see that everything was right about the place, and to shut up the boys' horses, which had been turned loose in the stable-yard. He wanted the animals where they could be easily caught when needed, for he did not think it prudent for Tom and his companion to remain under his roof during the night. They would have a better chance to take care of themselves if they were camped in the woods. This was the way he explained the situation when he came back to the house, and then he went on to say:

"There's something in the wind, and I wish I knew what it is. I don't like the way Merrick's boy has acted. I told him positively not to leave the place before morning, and now he's gone, mule and all."

"By gracious!" thought Rodney. "That means harm to me. I was afraid I said too much in his hearing, and when I found that he had red eyes I was sure of it. He is going to put some Union men on my trail before daylight, and I must get out of here. He knew that if he spoke to Truman he would have to face me, and that was something he was afraid to do."

"How long has he been gone?" inquired Tom, who was as impatient to leave the house and take to the woods as Rodney was.

Mr. Truman couldn't say as to that; probably two hours at least. That was long enough for him to tell a good many Union men that there was a Confederate in Truman's house, and the boys began to be really alarmed.

"This shows that there is no dependence whatever to be placed upon the darkies," declared Tom. "They are divided in sentiment the same as the whites. Some side with their masters and some don't. Of course I am not sure that this boy's absence means anything, but still I think we had better get out while we can."

But they had already delayed their departure too long, as they discovered a moment later. When Tom ceased speaking he got upon his feet, and just then there was a slight commotion outside the house, and Mrs. Truman uttered an ejaculation of surprise and alarm as a couple of dark figures bounded up the steps and stood upon the gallery. At the same instant a back door opened and heavy boots pounded the kitchen floor. The house had been quietly surrounded, but by whom? It was too dark to see.

"Don't be frightened, Mrs. Truman," said one of the men at the door. "You know us, and you know that we wouldn't harm you. We want a word or two with those young fellows who have come here trying to impose upon you and all of us."

"Then why couldn't you come to the door and say so like a man, instead of sneaking up like a cowardly Secession bushwhacker?" demanded Mr. Truman, angrily. "Get out of the house and come in in the proper way."

"Softly, softly," said one of the three men who had entered by the kitchen door. "Harsh words butter no parsnips, and in times like these one can't stand upon too much ceremony. We don't mean to intrude, but we do mean to get hold of that Secesh and the other chap, who for some reason of his own, is befriending him. Strike a light, please."

"You have certainly made a mistake," said Mrs. Truman, going across the room to a table to find a match. "Our guests are both Union."

"Then there's no harm done," replied the man at the door. "We understand that one of them claims to be some relation to old Justus Percival. If he is, he can't have any objections to riding over to Pilot Knob with some of us and proving his claim."

The boys trembled when they heard these ominous works. A ride to Pilot Knob meant death to Tom Percival at any rate, and perhaps to his friend Rodney also. This was the darkest prospect yet, and it looked still darker when the lamp had, been lighted, and its rays fell upon the set, determined faces of the armed men who, with heavy shot-guns, covered all the avenues of escape. Rodney thought they must be men who had suffered at the hands of their secession neighbors, for they looked as savage as Mr. Truman had acted a while before.

"Which is the traitor?" demanded the largest man in the party, who seemed to be the leader.

"Neither one," replied Tom, settling back in the chair from which he had arisen when the men first appeared.

"Which one is Union then, if that suits you better?" was the next question.

"I say we both are," answered Tom. "I am Captain Percival, and I am now on my way home after having offered the services of myself and company to General Lyon. Justus Percival, of whom you spoke a moment since, is my uncle."

"And who is this friend of yours?"

"He is a schoolmate who left his own State because things didn't go to suit him, and who intends to enlist the first chance he gets."

"On which side?" inquired the leader, squinting up both his eyes and nodding at Tom as if to say that he had him there.

"Do you imagine that he would make a journey of almost a thousand miles for the sake of enlisting in the Confederate army when he might have done that at home?" asked Tom, in reply. "You must be crazy."

"Not so crazy as you may think," said the leader, who seemed to be sure of his ground. "We have the best of evidence that he is secesh."

"What sort of evidence?"

"His own word."

"Is the man who heard me say that outside?" asked Rodney, who thought by the way Mr. Truman and his wife looked at him that it was high time he was saying something for himself. "If he is, bring him in and let me face him. You have no right to condemn me until you let me see who my accuser is."

"That's the idea," said Tom. "Fetch him in."

The boys played their parts so well, in spite of the alarm they felt and the danger they knew they were in, and looked so honest and truthful that the leader was nonplussed, and Mr. Truman and his wife were firmly convinced that their visitors had made a mistake. There were reasons why the latter could not produce Rodney's accuser, and for a minute or two some of them acted as though they might be willing to let the matter drop right where it was. But there is always some "smart man" in every party who thinks he knows a little more than anybody else, and it was so in this case; and when he spoke, he "put his foot in it."

"Didn't you say to-day in the presence of – of – "

"Merrick's red-eyed nigger," Tom exclaimed, when the man paused and looked about as if afraid that he might have said more than he ought. "Why don't you speak it right out? What did I tell you, Mr. Truman? Didn't I say that boy would bear watching? Now, what I want to know of you is, are you going to take that darkey's word in preference to mine?"

This was bringing the matter right home to the visitors, every one of whom was a slaveholder, and would have taken it as an insult if any one had so much as hinted that their evidence was not as good as a black man's.

"Don't get huffy," said the smart man before alluded to. "We haven't played our best card yet. One of you two was riding a roan colt when you came to Merrick's, and there aint no such horse in Truman's stable."

"Did Merrick's nigger tell you that?" asked Tom.

His self-control was surprising. He sat up in his chair and boldly faced his questioner, while Rodney, wishing that the floor might open and let him down into the cellar, told himself more than once that he never would hear the last of that roan colt the longest day he lived.

"No matter who told us," was the reply. "We know it to be a fact. The roan was taken into Merrick's woods, and he wasn't brought out this morning. Did you make a trade with Merrick, or with some of Hobson's friends?"

"If you want to know you had better ask them," answered Tom.

"That's what we intend to do; and we intend, further, that you shall stay with us till we get to the bottom of this thing. There is something about you that isn't just right and we mean to find out what it is."

"I can tell you all about that horse," Rodney interposed.

"It isn't worth while for you to waste your breath, and besides this is a dangerous place to stay, with Price's men scouting around through the neighborhood," said the leader, who now showed a disposition to resume the management of affairs. "It won't take more than two or three days to ride back to Merrick's and from there to Pilot Knob, and straighten everything out in good shape."

"But we are in a hurry. We don't want to go back," exclaimed Tom; and it was plain to every one in the room that the bare proposition frightened him.

"I don't suppose you do want to go back," said the leader, in a significant tone, "but we can't help that. It's time you Secesh were taught that you can't go prowling about through the country imposing upon Union men whenever you feel like it. We have stood enough from such as you, and more than we ever will again, and I believe we should be justified in dealing with you here and now. As for you," he added, shaking his fist in Tom's face and fairly hissing out the words, "you are no more the man you claim to be than I am. You're traitors, the pair of you."

The man was working himself into a passion, and it behooved the boys to be careful what they said. He was in the right mood to do something desperate, for when he ceased speaking and stepped back, breathing hard from the excess of his fury, he worked the hammer of his gun back and forth in a way that was enough to chill one's blood.

"You'll be sorry for this and quite willing to acknowledge it," was what Tom said in reply. "We don't want to go back for we have had trouble enough getting here; but since we must, I hope – "

Tom did not have time to say what, for while everybody's gaze was directed toward him, and no one thought of giving a look outside to see that all was right there, a couple of new actors appeared upon the scene, glided into the room off the porch as quickly and almost as silently as spirits. They were Confederate officers in full uniform, and each one carried a drawn sword in his hand. At the same moment two windows on opposite sides of the room were shivered into fragments, the curtains were jerked down and the black muzzles of a dozen carbines were thrust in. It was like a thunder-bolt from a clear sky, and it was all done so quickly that no one had a chance to move. The five Union men were as powerless for resistance as though they had held straws instead of loaded guns in their hands.

"Don't move an eye-lash," said the older of the two officers, lifting his cap and bowing to Mrs. Truman. "No explanation is necessary, for we understand the situation perfectly." And to the infinite amazement of the two boys, though not much to the surprise of the other occupants of the room, the speaker, when he put his cap on his head again, turned toward Rodney and Tom and gave them a military salute.

"What do you think of that, Mr. Truman?" said the leader of the Union men, whose courage did not desert him even if his face did change color. "Are you satisfied now that these are not the Union boys they pretended to be?"

"I am," answered Mr. Truman, while his wife looked daggers at them. "If they are not Secesh, how does it come that their friends recognize them so quickly? I suppose you are Price's men?" he added, turning to the officer.

"Lieutenant, send in two or three fellows to take these guns and sound the prisoners. Yes, sir, we belong to Price."

"And you came here expecting to find these two boys?"

"Right again," answered the officer. "If we hadn't known they were here we shouldn't have come."

Of all the occupants of the room there were none so thoroughly bewildered and dazed as Tom and Rodney were. Was the officer telling the truth or cooking up a story for reasons of his own? If he really expected to find them in that house, he was certainly mistaken in supposing, as he evidently did, that they were both Confederates. Tom had never set eyes on him before, and hoped from the bottom of his heart that the officer did not know anybody in or around Springfield. He hoped, too, and trembled while the thought flitted through his mind, that no one in the room would speak his name, for it was his turn to sail under false colors now.

Having sent his subordinate after some soldiers to disarm the men of whom he had spoken as prisoners, the officer dropped the point of his sword to the floor, came to "parade rest," and looked about the room

 
"With such a face of Christian satisfaction
As good men wear, who have done a virtuous action."