Part 9 (2/2)
”And do they say that we-uns mustn't do it?” Jeff demanded.
”You've hit it again,” was Rodney's reply. ”That is just what they do say; and they say, further, that they won't give us our share of the goods. See how they hung on to that fort in Charleston Harbor until our gallant fellows made them give it up? That fort belonged to South Carolina; but when she broke up the firm, by which I mean the Union, the Yanks wouldn't give it up. Who ever heard of such impudence?”
”I never,” answered Jeff. ”We did lick 'em sure enough, didn't we?”
”Of course we did, and that isn't the worst of it. We're going to whip them as often as we get a chance at them. But what am I talking about. The Yankees won't fight.”
”Didn't they have a sorter rucus up in St. Louis?”
”Those were not Yankees. They were Dutchmen-old country soldiers, who don't know enough about war to keep them from shooting into their own men. Who's afraid of such soldiers?”
”We're mighty glad you stopped off here, stranger,” said Jeff, at length. ”We didn't rightly know what all the furse was about, and there wasn't n.o.body who could tell us, because the steamboat cap'ns who come here for wood couldn't wait to talk about it. But we know now, and I do think that some on us had oughter have a hand in making them Yankees stay where they b'long. I'd go in a minute if it wasn't fur the ole woman and the young ones.”
”I aint got none of them things to hold me back, and I'll go in your place, Jeff,” said one of the wood-cutters. It was the man who had drawn his seat close in front of Rodney, and seemed to be so much interested in the boy's watch chain.
”Will you go with me and join Price?” asked the latter, eagerly.
”I reckon I might as well,” replied the man.
”Do you know the country?”
”Well, no; I can't say that I do. But I know where to look to find the road that runs from Jackson to Hartsville, forty miles this side of Springfield, and when you get there, mebbe you'll know where you are.”
”No, I won't,” answered Rodney. ”I have never been in this part of Missouri before. I have been in St. Louis two or three times, but when I got out of sight of the Planters' House I was lost completely.”
”Why, didn't the cap'n of the Mollie Able tell Jeff that you was one of Price's men? How could you have jined him if you haven't been where he was?”
Rodney did not at all like the tone in which this question was asked, and it was right on the end of his tongue to tell the wood-cutter that it was none of his business; but on second thought he decided that that wouldn't do. The man talked and acted as if he suspected him of something; and if the others suspected him too, they might make trouble for him. The steamboat captain did say that he was one of Price's men, and Rodney wished now that he hadn't done it.
”I suppose I could arrange all that by letter or telegraph, couldn't I?” was the answer he made, as he produced his note book and took from it the dispatch he had received from d.i.c.k Graham's father, and one of the letters of introduction that had been given to him by Captain Howard. These he pa.s.sed over to the suspicious wood-cutter, rightly believing that the latter could not read a word of them. ”You will see that that telegram reads, 'Price will accept,'” continued Rodney. ”I belong to a company of Rangers that was raised down the river, and at my captain's request I telegraphed to Price inquiring if he would take us and let us operate on our own hook, and he said he would. Read it for yourself. What are you afraid of?”
”Nothing much.”
”You see,” explained Jeff, who during this conversation had sat with his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes fastened upon the floor, ”things is getting sorter ticklish down here in this neck of the woods already. n.o.body don't know who he can trust.”
”Don't you believe what the Able's captain said about me?” inquired Rodney, who had little dreamed that he would become an object of suspicion almost as soon as he set his foot on Missouri soil. ”He told me you were true blue.”
”And so we are, when we know the feller we're talking to.” said the man who was sitting in front of him, and whom he afterward heard addressed as Nels. ”Now I want you to answer me a few questions: where did you board the Mollie Able?”
Rodney, who was not at all used to this sort of thing, began to grow red in the face, but fortunately he did not hesitate an instant.
”I got on at Baton Rouge,” he said.
”Is that place this side of Cairo?”
”No; it is the other side.”
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