Part 23 (1/2)
The horseman drew up and turned about just as Rodney's hand was placed upon his shoulder. The greeting was just such a one as any two boys would extend to each other under similar circ.u.mstances, and so we need not say any more about it. Rodney and d.i.c.k Graham were shaking hands at last, and two brothers could not have been more delighted.
”How in the world did you get through St. Louis without being put in jail, and where did you pick him up, captain?” were the questions d.i.c.k asked when he recovered from his surprise. ”Lyon is between us and St. Louis, but we manage to get our mail pretty regularly-Heard about Bull Run? Wasn't that a victory though? Fifteen thousand against thirty-five thousand! When we were at school, captain-”
”Where's the regiment?” interrupted the latter. ”I am ordered to report to the colonel at once.”
”Over there,” replied d.i.c.k, sweeping his right arm around the horizon so as to include the whole camp on that side of the street. ”Come on, and I will show you the way. When we were at school the Union boys made sport of us rebels because we shouted ourselves hoa.r.s.e over the victory in Charleston Harbor, and declared that we ought to be ashamed of ourselves for it. Five thousand men against fifty-one was not a thing to be proud of. But they couldn't say that now if they were here. We won a fair fight on the field of Bull Run, although the enemy outnumbered us more than two to one. I say we are going to repeat the good work right here in Missouri.”
”Are you Confederate?” inquired Rodney.
”Not much. I'm State Rights. That's me.”
”And you'll not be ordered out of your State?”
”I may be ordered but I won't go. That's me. Seen Jeff Thompson's last proclamation? In it he calls Lyon's Dutchmen Hessians and Tories, and says our first hard work must be to drive them from the State. After that has been done, then we'll decide whether or not we want to join the Confederacy.”
”If the Governor of Louisiana had talked that way I would not be here now,” said Rodney. ”He tried to swear us into the Confederate service against our will, and that broke up the company. I have as much to tell you as you have to tell me, and I propose that we postpone our talking until we can sit down somewhere and have it out with no fear of interruption. Do you suppose I can get into your company?”
”I suppose you can,” replied d.i.c.k, with a laugh. ”When the captain sees your writing he will make you orderly so quick you will never know it.”
”Then he'll never see any of my writing,” said Rodney, earnestly. ”If you so much as hint to him that I know a pen-point from a pen-holder, I'll never forgive you. Captain Hubbard's men wanted to make me company clerk, but I couldn't see the beauty of it, and so they elected me sergeant. But I don't want any office now. I want to remain a private so that I will have a chance to go with you if you are sent out on a scout. But bear one thing in mind,” he added, in a lower tone, ”you needn't order me to burn any houses, for I'll not do it.”
”I am down on all such lighting myself,” replied d.i.c.k, with emphasis. ”If we ever go out together I will show you as many as half-a-dozen houses that would be ashes now if it hadn't been for me, and one of them covers the head of one Thomas Percival-when he is at home.”
d.i.c.k thought Rodney would be much surprised at this, but he wasn't. All he said was:
”Does Tom know it?”
”I don't suppose he does, or his father, either; but I have the satisfaction of knowing that I have done something to strengthen the friends.h.i.+p that existed between Tom and myself while we were at Barrington. You will know how hard a time I had in doing any thing for the Percivals when I tell you that Tom is suspected of belonging to a company of Home Guards.”
”Suspected, is he?” said Rodney, with a knowing wink. ”Is that all you know about him? He's captain of a company he raised himself, and rode all the way alone to St. Louis to ask Lyon if he could join him. He was afraid to trust the mails. He told me that the Vigilance Committees had a way of opening letters from suspected persons, and he didn't want to run any risks.”
”Well now, I am beat,” said d.i.c.k, who had listened to this revelation with a look of the profoundest astonishment on his face. ”But how does it come that you know so much more about him than I do? Have you been corresponding with him?”
”I never heard a word from him from the time I left Barrington until I met him at Cedar Bluff landing in a nest of Confederates. Tom was a prisoner, was known to be Union, accused of being a horse-thief and in a fair way of being hung; but he got out of the sc.r.a.pe somehow, and I hope is safe at home by this time.”
”Well, well,” repeated d.i.c.k, growing more and more amazed. ”So do I hope he is safe at home, and if he got within a hundred miles of Springfield I reckon he is. The country is full of Federal cavalry, and how your squad came through without being molested is more than I can understand. You will find the colonel in this tent, captain,” said he, dismounting and drawing some papers from his pocket. ”I must report too, for I have been on an errand for him. I'll be out in a minute, Rodney.”
d.i.c.k followed, the captain into the colonel's tent, and Rodney sat on his horse and looked around while he awaited his return. He thought of what the captain had said regarding the Continentals at Valley Forge, but did not see that there could be any comparison drawn between the two armies. Price's men seemed to be well clothed, provisions were plenty, and as for their arms, they had an abundance of them such as they were, and a charging enemy would find their double-barrel shotguns bad things to face at close quarters. But a few months later the comparison was a good one. During the ”little Moscow retreat,” after the battle of Pea Ridge (which Van Dorn's ambition led him to fight contrary to orders), along a route where there were neither roads nor bridges, through a region from which the inhabitants had all fled, leaving the country ”so poor that a turkey buzzard would not fly over it,” with no train of wagons, or provisions to put in them if there had been, and no tents to shelter them from the cold, biting winds and sleet and snow-when Rodney Gray found himself and companions in this situation he thought of the Continentals, and wondered at the patriotism that kept them in the ranks. But it wasn't patriotism that kept Price's men together. It was fear and nothing else.
But this dark picture was hidden from Rodney's view as he sat there on his horse waiting for his friend d.i.c.k Graham to come out of the colonel's tent. The martial scenes around him, the military order that everywhere prevailed, the companies and regiments drilling in the fields close by, the inspiriting music that came to his ears-these sights and sounds filled him with enthusiasm; and if any one had told him that the time would come when he would think seriously of deserting the army and turning his back upon the cause he had espoused, Rodney Gray would have been thunder struck. But the time came.
CHAPTER XV.
A FULL-FLEDGED PARTISAN.
Having transacted his business with the colonel, d.i.c.k Graham came out of the tent and mounted his horse.
”Of course I had to wait until the captain had made his report,” said he, in a suppressed whisper, ”and in that way I happened to hear a little about yourself and Tom Barton. I knew enough to keep still in the presence of my superiors, but I did want to ask the captain to say more about Tom Barton. Was it Percival?”