Part 7 (1/2)
”I've been considering that,” answered Andrews. ”Will you volunteer?”
”No,” Tom answered flatly. ”Of course, I'll go if I'm ordered, but I'll not volunteer.”
”Hm-m-m ... well, never mind about that. I have some other work for you.” Andrews seemed to emerge from a fog of indecision. ”I want you to take my horse and travel south as rapidly as you can. If you come across any of our men who may be ahead of us, tell them that the raid is postponed one day. I-if I can-will get word back to the General. I want you to locate Brown. I was told that he and the man who is traveling with him-I don't know who it is-managed to get a ride in a farmer's wagon. They left here this morning, and the farmer was going to take them as far as a village called Coal Mines. You'll probably overtake them, but if you don't find them on the road, go into Chattanooga and catch the train for Marietta Thursday. Brown will probably catch that train. Tell him about the change in plans, and wait in Marietta for us. We will be there Friday night. In the meantime, I will locate Knight. Is that clear?”
”Yes, sir,” answered Tom. ”What shall I do with the horse?”
”The poor brute is just about ready to drop now,” replied Andrews. ”Ride him as far as he'll carry you, then turn him loose. Throw the saddle and bridle into the bushes. It's after four o'clock now. You'd better be getting along.”
”Yes, sir.” Tom took the reins.
”Say!” Shadrack broke in, ”he'd better have something to eat, or he'll fall off the horse. We were just going to the Widow Fry's to persuade her to give us a meal.”
Andrews reached into his pockets, and drew forth two paper packages. ”Here's some bread and meat. I'm sorry I haven't anything more, or anything better. You can eat it while you ride.”
Tom thanked him and mounted the horse. ”Good-by, sir. Good-by, Wilson and Shadrack. Luck to you.” He turned the horse into the road, and started southward. Now he was alone, with the South before him.
CHAPTER FIVE
TOM ARRIVES AT THE BEECHAM'S
Wednesday dawned in a drizzle of rain. It had seemed to Tom, riding through the long night on a horse whose legs trembled at every step, that the dawn would never come; that the world had been conquered by the downpour. At least it had seemed so until the monotony of the rain and cold deadened his senses, allowing him to fall into a doze.
He straightened in the saddle, and stretched. A chill seized him, and he commenced to s.h.i.+ver violently. His clothes were wet and heavy.
”This won't do,” he said aloud, with his teeth chattering. At the sound of his voice the horse p.r.i.c.ked up his ears feebly. ”Poor fellow! You're just about ready to drop, aren't you?” He reined in, stroking the horse's shoulder; then dismounted. For a few seconds he clung to the saddle, supporting himself; his numbed legs refused to hold him until he brought them to life by stamping and kicking. Even then he was none too sure of his step.
”Poor boy!” he said to the horse. ”It's been a hard trip for you. Poor boy! Here, let's take that bit out of your mouth and see if you can find something to eat. There's not much around here, is there?” The horse commenced chewing at some weeds which had sprung up along the roadside. Tom pulled out the sodden remains of the food Andrews had given him, gave the bread to the horse and ate the meat. Then, leading the horse, he walked along the road. He had pa.s.sed Coal Mines shortly after midnight, but without coming upon Brown. Probably, he thought, Brown and his companion had found a house or barn in which they were spending the night, which meant that he was ahead of them and would be in Chattanooga when they arrived.
A half-hour later he tried to remount, but the horse was too exhausted to bear his weight. They rested for a few minutes and then walked for another half-hour. Several times the horse stumbled. When they stopped to rest again, the horse braced his legs as though it took all his strength to stand. His head was hanging, and his eyes were dull.
”Poor fellow,” Tom repeated. ”It's cruel to make you do this, but I can't leave you here.” If he had to abandon the animal, he wanted to leave him where there was some chance of finding food. Here there was nothing.
They pressed on again, walking for a few minutes, then resting. It was nearly seven o'clock when they came to a big house, standing several hundred yards from the road. Tom turned up the driveway. Presently the odor of frying bacon came to his nostrils, and he felt faint and dizzy.
”Lan' sakes alive,” exclaimed the negro woman who came to the door. ”Lan' sakes, have you all been out in this rain storm. Jasper!”
”Yas'm,” came the answer. A little negro boy appeared from around his mother's skirts.
”Take this gentleman's horse 'round to de stable. Come right in, sir.”
”Thank you,” answered Tom wearily. ”Can you give me something to eat?”
”Ya.s.sir. You come right in.”
”I'd better unsaddle the horse first, mammy,” replied Tom.
”Jasper, you tell yo' pa to unsaddle this gentleman's horse. You come right in here, sir. I'll tell the white folks.”
Tom needed no second urging. He entered the big kitchen, his stomach wrenching and aching at the odor of food. ”Don't bother about telling the white folks that I'm here, mammy,” he said. ”Just give me something to eat. I'm starving.”