Part 29 (1/2)
”I'm one of the railroad raiders,” continued Tom. ”I'm....”
”What?” yelled the Sentry. ”Are you one of them? Say! Put those hands down and let me shake 'em. Say!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
TOM REPORTS AT HEADQUARTERS
The Sergeant, with four men, came on the double quick, and found Tom and the Sentry standing in the middle of the road talking. The Sentry's gun stood neglected, leaning against a tree.
”What does this mean, c.u.mmins?” demanded the Sergeant.
”Here's one of the raiders,” answered the Sentry, as though that was enough to account for almost any negligence. And it was enough, for the Sergeant forgot the Sentry completely. He grabbed Tom's hand.
”That was a wonderful job you boys did down there,” he said. ”We've been waiting for you and watching all along the line.”
”Am I the first one through?” asked Tom.
”I guess so. Are there any more behind you?”
”I don't know. I got separated from the others. There were three of us, and the other two were captured. Are you sure that none of them reached the line on the other side of Chattanooga?” he asked anxiously.
”We haven't heard of any,” answered the Sergeant. ”The whole country's waiting for you, and I guess we'd have heard of it if any had come through the lines. Say, when the news of the raid came out, the North just went crazy with excitement.”
One of the men added: ”And I guess the South did some going crazy, too.”
”I have to sit down,” remarked Tom suddenly. ”Sorry, but my legs don't seem to be much good.”
”We've got to be getting on and report to the Captain. You'd better climb on your horse,” remarked the Sergeant.
”I'll walk the rest of the way, thanks,” said Tom. ”Star's done about enough work for one night. Wait a minute and I'll be all right.”
”Have a hard time getting through?” asked one of the men.
”Oh, not so very hard,” replied Tom. The memory of all the miseries of that long chase seemed dulled in his mind now. ”The worst of it was that I was wet all the time, wet to the skin. Then I didn't have anything to eat for about two days. Got a little touch of the fever.”
”Pshaw!” exclaimed the Sergeant. ”Say, that's a good horse you've got there! Where did you find it?”
”Maybe I'll tell you after the war's over,” answered Tom.
”Ah! Well, you had luck, anyhow.”
”Yep,” answered Tom. He put his hand into his pocket and clutched Marjorie's handkerchief. ”Yep, I had luck, all right enough. I can walk now, I guess. Let's go report to the Captain.”
It was daylight when they reached the headquarters of the guard. The Sentry posted before the door watched them approach, then called out: ”'Lo there, Serg. Got a Johnny Reb for our breakfast?”
”Reb nothing!” replied the Sergeant. ”This boy's one of the raiders.”
The Sentry's jaw dropped slightly. He stared for a moment, then turned and bolted through the door, yelling back over his shoulder, ”I'll get the Captain out. Isn't up yet.”
They entered the house, and Tom dropped into the first chair he reached. ”Sergeant,” he said, ”have one of your men take care of my horse. He can have some water now.”
”All right, Lieutenant.”