who was carrying it out; of the hundreds who had taken the oath of allegiance in order that they might work more securely, and that many had even enlisted in the State militia, so that when the supreme time came they could desert: the time set for the uprising was the last of July or else the first of August, by which time they hoped to have at least forty thousand men enrolled.
"Blair and Schofield must see this, and no time lost," said Lawrence to himself as he placed the communication carefully in his pocket.
Blair was soon found. After carefully reading the letter he said, "I am not surprised. I warned the Government of the folly of removing so many troops from the State. But who could have written this?"
"If Guilford Craig was alive there would be but one answer," replied Lawrence. "As it is, it is a mystery."
"Let us see Schofield at once," said Blair. "There should be no time lost."
Repairing to the headquarters of General Schofield, they were readily admitted. General Schofield was the chief of staff to General Lyon at the time of the battle of Wilson Creek, and, of course, knew Lawrence well. "Glad to see you, Captain," said the General. "Curtis has written me of your good work. You are not with him now, are you?"
"No, you know the commission I held was granted by Fremont. The authorities at Washington declared it illegal."
"Ah, there was a large number of those commissions. I must see what I can do for you."
"I thank you, General, but General Blair has just done me the great honor of appointing me on his staff."
"General Blair, as well as yourself, is to be congratulated," answered the General.
Blair now spoke. "General, our business with you is very important. Captain Middleton, please show the General the communication you received."
Lawrence handed the General the mysterious message and Schofield read it with a darkened brow.
"Who wrote this?" he asked, abruptly.
"General, I do not know."
"Then it may be a fake, a joke. Someone may be trying to scare us."
"General, it is no joke, the proof is too positive," replied Lawrence, earnestly.
"That is so," answered the General. "It also confirms rumors I have been hearing. There has been unusual activity among Southern sympathizers, all over the State, yet outside of the guerrilla bands there have been no hostile demonstrations. This must have been written by someone deep in their counsels."
"General, do you remember Guilford Craig?"
"Remember him! Indeed, I do. Can I ever forget what he and you were to Lyon?"
"If Guilford Craig had not been killed at the battle of Pea Ridge I would be positive the communication came from him. But the handwriting bears no resemblance to his."
"Are you certain he was killed?"
"The proof seems positive, but his body was not found," answered Lawrence.
Schofield sat for a moment in silence, and then suddenly said to Blair, "General Blair, I have a great favor to ask of you."
"What is it, General? Any favor I can give you will be readily granted."
"That you relinquish your claim on Captain Middleton, at least, until this crisis is over, and let me have him."
Blair looked surprised, but no more so than Lawrence.
"You know," continued Schofield, "there is no one who can help me more just now than Captain Middleton. No one who understands the work before me better. This Guilford Craig, as you are aware, was a curious character. To no one would he report but to Captain Middleton. This exposé, coming to Middleton, instead of to me, leads me to believe that Craig was not killed, as supposed, but in some way got off the field, and for reasons, known only to himself, remains in hiding. Judging the future by the past, if he is alive, and has more information to impart, it would be given only through the same source. For these reasons I would like to attach Captain Middleton to my staff."
"General, your reasons are good," replied Blair, "and it shall be for Captain Middleton to decide."
"Where I can do my country the most good, there I am willing to go," answered Lawrence.
So it was decided that for the summer Lawrence should remain with General Schofield. The words of General Schofield had also given Lawrence hope that Guilford lived. But as weeks and months passed, and no other communication came to him, he again looked upon Guilford as dead.
Hopeless of getting relief from the Federal Government, General Schofield entered upon the gigantic task of organizing the militia of the State. In this Lawrence was of the greatest service, and through a system of spies and scouts he was enabled to keep General Schofield well informed as to what was going on in the State.
In helping organize the militia, Lawrence had many adventures and many hair-breadth escapes, and by his side always rode the faithful Dan Sherman, and together they shared every danger.
By the last of July, as has been stated, there were nearly one hundred thousand men arrayed against each other. It was a partisan warfare on a mighty scale, and the storm was about to burst.
CHAPTER IV
MOORE'S MILL
We left Harry Semans and his young companion just starting on their lonely ride to Jefferson City, a distance of twenty-seven miles. The soldier with Harry proved rather a garrulous youth. He said his name was David Harris; that he belonged to the Third Iowa Cavalry; was a farmer boy, and rather liked the service. "It's exciting, you know," he added.
"Very much so at times," dryly answered Harry.
"Say, what makes you dress like a blamed guerrilla?" suddenly asked Dave. "You are a soldier, aren't you?"
"I am a scout," replied Harry. "I dress like a guerrilla because I have to pretend to be one about half the time. Just before I reached Fulton today I passed myself off as one of Porter's men. It saved me a dangerous encounter, perhaps my life."
"Gee! it must be exciting," said the boy. "I wish I was a scout."
"Couldn't be one," laughed Harry. "Your Yankee brogue would give you away. I notice you say 'keow' instead of 'cow' and 'guess' instead of 'reckon.' But please don't talk any more, we must keep both ears and eyes open."
After this they rode along in silence; that is, as much as Dave would allow, until Harry ordered him to ride in the rear, and if he must talk, talk to himself, and so low that no one else could hear.
For some ten miles they proceeded at a swift gallop without adventure, meeting two or three horsemen who seemed as little desirous of making acquaintance as they were themselves, and Dave began to think the ride rather tame.
As they were passing a place where the bushes grew thickly by the side of the road, they received a gruff command to halt. Instead of obeying, Harry, as quick as thought, drew his revolver and fired, at the same time putting spurs to his horse and shouting to Harris, "Ride for your life."
There was a rustling in the bushes, an angry exclamation as well as a groan. Harry's shot had gone true, and came as a surprise to the bushwhackers as well, for two or three seconds elapsed before three or four shots rang out, and they
