Part 23 (1/2)

Jim looked at him in surprise.

”Why not?” he asked, as if abusing prisoners were the most natural pastime in the world.

”Because I said so,” returned Yeager, bluntly. ”That's why.”

The deck hand appeared to meditate this unusual ruling for a moment.

Then he inquired,

”When yeh goin' to shoot these Yanks, Captain?”

”Well,” said the guerilla chief, hesitatingly, and stopped. Then he shot a furtive glance at the short, broad-shouldered man. The latter was sitting in a lounging att.i.tude with his arms clasped around his knees, but his eyes were fixed steadily on Yeager.

”Well,” began the Captain, again. ”I ain't a-goin' to shoot 'em. I'm a-goin' to take 'em down an' turn 'em over to General Price.”

He looked again at the short man, who was now gazing calmly out over the river. The boys breathed sighs of relief and thanksgiving, for it seemed they were to be saved for the moment, at least, from their most imminent peril of being murdered in the woods.

”What?” cried Jim, angrily. ”Yeh told me yeh'd shoot 'em if I got 'em fer yeh.”

”I find they ain't deservin' uh death,” returned Yeager, with dignity.

”Leastways, not unless ordered by a reg'lar military court.”

”Oh, thunder!” exclaimed Jim. He frowned in disappointed hatred at Al, then turned and walked away.

”Well, I must be goin',” said he. ”I got business up to Lexington.”

”Hold on!” cried Yeager. ”What's yer hurry? We're just startin' fer Arrer Rock to take these prisoners to General Price. I want you fer a witness ag'in 'em.”

”Aw, no, I can't do no good,” returned Jim, hastily, continuing to back away. ”I've told yeh all I know about 'em. I got to go.”

Then he felt a nudge on his arm and looked at the short man, who had risen and, with his hand on his big holster, was gazing up into Jim's face.

”Pshaw, you'd better come with us,” said he, in a soft voice.

Jim's eyes wavered, then shot a desperate, hunted look around over the crowd. But by a great effort he controlled himself.

”Oh, very well. Yes,” he replied, with as much carelessness as he could a.s.sume. ”I'll go.”

The horses of the guerilla gang were tied a few yards back in the timber. The boys were led to them and mounted, each one riding between two guards; and then the party, forming in a rough column of fours, started out. They soon emerged from the woods, pa.s.sed up through a ravine and so out upon the bluffs, where presently they turned into a faintly marked country road running to the southeast, toward Arrow Rock.

For hours they travelled, alternately at a trot and a walk, through the pretty, rolling country of Saline County, now pa.s.sing among stretches of forest, gay with the foliage of Autumn, and again moving across reaches of open land, dotted here and there with little farms, most of them deserted and falling to decay. But always they avoided the main roads and often they travelled across the fields, through ravines and along the lower edge of ridges, making it evident that these men possessed a knowledge of the country as intimate as that of the Sioux in the Northwest.

The boys were held near the centre of the column, and several files ahead of them was Jim, who rode along easily, slouching in the saddle and yielding to the motions of his horse as if accustomed to it through long practice. It was noticeable to the boys that the short man held a place in column immediately behind Jim; for this guerilla company appeared to have no regular formation, and the men fell in wherever they chose, sometimes even changing their places on the march.

Toward evening the gang approached Arrow Rock and were halted by a picket in the edge of the little town. The officer of the guard, a young man in the full uniform of a Confederate lieutenant, came out to meet Yeager, who had ridden to the front.

”Is General Price's army here?” asked Yeager.

”Yes,” answered the Lieutenant. ”Who are you?”

”Captain Yeager and command, with Yankee prisoners.”