Part 30 (1/2)

”A message came from Mitchel at Huntsville. He wants to see you.”

And so Tom, mounted upon Star and accompanied by the Captain's messenger, retraced the road to Shelbyville and followed the course of Mitchel's army southward. All along the route, when the news spread that one of the raiders was pa.s.sing through, they were surrounded by soldiers, who wanted to hear the story and to shake hands. Finally Tom begged the messenger not to tell people who he was, not to mention the raid. ”We'll never get to Huntsville if this keeps up,” he said.

It was noon of the third day when they reined their horses in at the outskirts of the town, and exhibited their pa.s.s to a Sentry. ”Let 'em past, boys,” yelled the Sentry. ”Here's the raider!” They trotted into Huntsville with the soldiers yelling. And it was all that Tom could do to keep from yelling. Now, for the first time, the full exultation of being back again struck him; but he sat speechless, stroking Star's neck nervously.

They pulled up before headquarters.

”Tom!”

Tom glanced about and saw Bert running toward him.

”Bert!”

Tom jumped from Star's back, tossed the reins to the messenger and they met as though in collision. ”Good work, Tom! When the word came, the company went wild. The Captain got leave for me to come up here and meet you. Go on in and report to the General. I'll be out here waiting for you.” Bert thumped him on the back and started him towards the door.

Tom followed the Sergeant of the Guard into the anteroom, and stood, ill at ease, looking out of the windows into the yard, until the General could receive him. Presently the door behind him opened, and he turned, expecting to see the Sergeant. Instead, it was General Mitchel himself. Tom snapped to attention.

”Welcome back again, Private Burns,” boomed the General. He approached and their hands met with a smack! The General was beaming. ”Glad to see you, boy. I'm proud of you. Come in here.” He took Tom's arm and led him toward the private office.

”Now let's have the yarn,” said the General, lighting a cigar and leaning back in his chair. Tom glanced about him and saw that the office had originally been a dining-room. The family table, which was strewn with maps, served as the General's desk, and the disorder of the chairs showed that there had been a recent meeting of the staff. On the sideboard were the remains of the General's lunch, which he had just finished.

”Am I the first one back?” asked Tom.

”Yes-the only one who has returned. I had just about given you all up as captured.”

”Then you think the others are ... prisoners?”

”Afraid so-yes. When was it you captured the train-Friday or Sat.u.r.day?”

”Sat.u.r.day, sir.”

”Hm-m-m, I thought so. That was what the reports from the South said, but I couldn't be sure. And how was it you didn't take the train on Friday, as we planned? But, perhaps, you'd better tell me the story right from the beginning.”

Once again, Tom started with his departure from Murfreesboro and told in detail of the movements of the raiders. The General listened intently, scratching down occasional notes; presently he arose and spread a map before them. Then, with their chairs close together, the General and the Private traced out the course of the raiders and the progress of the locomotive race up to the point where Andrews had given the order to abandon the engine and scatter.

”Hm-m-m, if he'd only stopped to fight-at the tunnel, say....” remarked the General.

”That's what we wanted to do,” answered Tom, ”but he wouldn't.”

”Of course,” said the General, ”we have to remember that Andrews was not a soldier-he was a spy, and accustomed to another way of working. Too bad.... Luck was dead against you, I'm afraid.”

The General leaned back again and looked at him narrowly as he told the story of his flight from the hotel and across the Tennessee. Tom continued:

”I would have been captured surely if it hadn't been for a certain person who took care of me, and gave me a horse. The whole countryside was getting up to search the woods for me. They were bringing the dogs out. Then I got the horse; we cut through the fields ahead of them. That's all. I raced until I tumbled into the arms of a Sentry.”

The General drummed on the table with his pen, and emitted great puffs of smoke. ”Hm-m-m!” he said. ”Hm-m-m! Not entirely successful, but a great blow at the South all the same. I'm proud of you men, Burns-mighty proud of you.” He was silent for a moment, then: ”I'm going to recommend you for a commission.”

”Thank you, sir,” gasped Tom.

”You've earned it. You can go up North for training, and join us again later-a Lieutenant. How'll you like that?”

”I'd like to have a commission, of course, but....”