Part 42 (1/2)

”Don't get on a high horse, Major, it will do you no good.”

”I mean what I say, and I shall stick to it. Try your best, you'll get no military information out of me.”

”You forget that your very life is in my hands.”

”I forget nothing,” Deck replied, but a cold chill crept down his backbone, as he looked into those black eyes, now blazing like those of a snake. ”I do not doubt but that you would kill me, as you killed that officer at General Rosecrans' headquarters, if you saw fit to do so.”

”I would kill you if I thought it in the line of my duty. I was sent forth by General Bragg to obtain certain information, and to obtain it at any cost. I propose to obey orders. As a major in the Union cavalry you must know certain things, and you have got to tell me--or take the consequences. We will finish this business before we stir another step,”

answered Captain Brentford, and again took up his pistol, which he had allowed to drop into his lap.

For the instant Deck knew not how to reply. A nameless dread took possession of him, as he realized how helpless he was, unarmed, and with his hands tied behind him. He looked up the road, and just then the sounds of rapid hoof-strokes reached his ears.

CHAPTER x.x.x

A FRIEND IN NEED

Captain Brentford had tried to bribe Major Deck Lyon into telling all he knew concerning the Union army's proposed movements, and had failed. He now proposed to wring the information out of the major at the point of the pistol.

It was an alarming situation, and Deck was more than glad to hear the hoof-strokes of horses approaching. He felt the hors.e.m.e.n must be Confederate cavalrymen, but just now anybody was to be preferred to n.o.body, to step between himself and the cold-blooded spy.

”Get up and pa.s.s behind yonder bushes!” ordered Captain Brentford, hastily, for he, too, had heard the sounds on the road.

Deck arose, but did it very slowly. A long look up the narrow highway brought to view eight cavalrymen, riding at top speed toward them.

”Did you hear what I said? Get behind yonder bushes!” cried the spy, impatiently.

”I heard what you said,” answered Deck, and all the while he was doing a tremendous deal of thinking.

”Then why don't you obey me? Do you want to be shot?”

”Would you dare to shoot me, Captain Brentford?”

”I would, and I will, unless you get behind the bushes at once.”

With slow steps the major moved toward the brush indicated. Nearer and nearer came the hors.e.m.e.n, until the leader was less than a hundred and fifty feet away. Then, without warning, Deck took to his heels, running straight for the cavalry, who were strung along in a column of twos.

Almost overcome with rage and chagrin, Captain Brentford raised his pistol. But the major had calculated well, and the spy did not dare to fire for fear of missing his mark and striking one of the cavalrymen. In less than half a minute the opportunity for shooting was gone, for the cavalry halted with Deck in their midst, and the captain put up his weapon and strode forward. As soon as he caught sight of the major, one of the riders in the rear uttered an exclamation of astonishment, but this failed to attract Deck's notice.

”Well, what does this mean?” demanded the leader of the cavalry, eying Deck, sternly. ”Are you a Union spy?”

”No, I am simply a prisoner of war, Major,” answered Deck, noting the shoulder straps of the other. ”Here is a spy,” and he indicated Captain Brentford.

”Hullo! Captain Brentford!” exclaimed the Confederate major. ”Are you on business in this neighborhood?”

”I just came through the lines, Major Collins,” answered the spy, coldly, and Deck saw at once that for some reason there was no love lost between the two Confederate officers.

”And what of this man here?”