Part 27 (1/2)

”I have no time to talk with rebels,” said the officer, shortly, and then calling to the turnkey, he directed him to place Webster in a cell.

Deeply resenting the treatment of the officer, but feeling that opposition would only aggravate his annoyance, Webster followed the man, internally vowing vengeance against the fellow who had instigated his arrest. He was anxious to express himself forcibly to the officer in charge, but he considered that he would probably do the same thing under the same circ.u.mstances. The Lieutenant believed him to be a rebel, and as such his treatment was harsh and impolite, and after debating the matter in his mind he came to the conclusion that he was not much to blame after all. He was desirous, however, of communicating with some one who could intercede for him, and by that means secure his release, and he resolved to make friends with his jailer as the best possible way of obtaining what he wanted.

Shortly after he had been incarcerated, he heard the voices of Sam Sloan and John Earl, who had been informed of his arrest and had come to see him. Their request was denied, however, and they expressed themselves in very loud tones against the injustice they were compelled to submit to.

All to no avail, however, and they reluctantly took their leave. The turnkey coming along the corridor at this time, Webster called to him, and requested his attention for a few moments. The man was about sixty years of age, and had a very benignant countenance, which Webster argued was a good omen for the work of propitiation which he had in hand.

”Will you tell the Lieutenant that I would like to speak with him,”

asked Webster.

”It's no use,” said the old man, with a shake of the head; ”the Lieutenant says he won't have anything to say to you, until your case is reported to headquarters this evening.”

”Well, then,” smiled Webster, ”I suppose I will have to wait his pleasure; but can't a fellow get a little whisky and cigar? I'll make it worth your while if you can help me in that particular.”

The old man laughed, and said he would see what could be done, as Webster slipped a bill into his hand. He disappeared, and after about a half hour, he returned and slipped a small bundle through the grated door, admonis.h.i.+ng Webster to be careful about exposing himself to the other prisoners within view.

”All right,” said Webster, ”you keep the change, old man, for your trouble.”

In the afternoon another officer, accompanied by four men, came to his cell, and requested his appearance at the office. Here he was carefully searched, and upon his person were found some letters addressed to himself; a pa.s.s from Col. Cramp, and about seventy dollars in money.

They were about to take these from him, when Webster inquired:

”Who was the man who arrested me this morning?”

”His name is McPhail, and he belongs to the secret service,” was the reply.

At the mention of the name, Webster started in surprise. He had heard of him as connected with my force, and knew that everything would soon be all right.

”Well,” said Webster, ”will you be kind enough to send for Mr. McPhail, and ask him to telegraph to Major Allen, and inquire if Tim is all right?”

”What Major Allen is that?” asked the officer.

”Of the secret service,” replied Webster. ”McPhail will know all about him; and you will learn that I am no rebel, in a very short time.”

”We will do what you request,” said the officer, ”and if you are all right, we will be glad to find it out.”

Thanking the officer for his kindness, Webster was conducted back to his cell to await developments.

About ten o'clock that night, the officer again made his appearance.

”John Hart, come here.”

Webster presented himself before the iron grating of his cell.

”Is your name John Hart?”

”No, sir, my name is Timothy Webster.”

”Well, my orders are for a man named Hart, who is to be taken to Fort McHenry.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”_Webster leaped from the wagon while it was in motion._”