his head and waved it toward the right and left of the road, “you will all divide and go into the timber on different sides; and when you hear me whistle this way,” he put his hand to his mouth and gave a whistle that could have been heard a mile, “then you may know that it is time for you to get down to business. But bear one thing in mind: Don’t shoot unless you have to.”
The company, or, more properly speaking, the battalion, moved on again, and in half an hour not one of them was in sight. They had divided right and left, as Mr. Sprague had directed, and taken up their positions on opposite sides of the road, and there was not the least noise or confusion about it. Two of the men had gone down the road to see if the train was coming, and they were impatiently waiting their return. The prisoners had all been turned over to Mr. Sprague, and he was having something of a time with one of them, who was determined that he would not hold his tongue. He had a very shrill voice, and when he spoke in his ordinary tone it could be heard a long distance.
“Now, Sprague, I don’t see the sense in your doing this,” said the shrill-voiced man, and he seemed to have pitched his tones so loud that they could have heard him at the end of the line. “You take me away from my home, who never did the Union any harm – ”
“You are a nice fellow, you are,” said one of the men who happened to be close around when the shrill-voiced person was talking. “I take notice of the fact that Ebenezer Hale wanted to come up here so as to be among Union men, and you heard his story, and when he was asleep that night you went off and got a lot of rebels to surround and carry him off. Where is he now? In jail, likely. And you, dog-gone you, you never did the Union men any harm! You had oughter go to jail until this trouble is all over.”
“Well, now, Simeon, I did just what I thought was best for the community. I didn’t have nothing against Ebenezer Hale, but I knew that if he went into this fight – ”
“That’s enough,” said Mr. Sprague. “We have listened to you all we want to.”
“Now, Sprague, I shan’t quit talking until I have a mind to,” said the shrill-voiced man. “You have undertaken more than you can accomplish, and I say – ”
“Sim, cut a little piece of wood about four inches long, and tie a string to each end of it,” said Mr. Sprague. “If Kelley don’t shut up we’ll gag him.”
“Oh, now, Mr. Sprague, don’t gag me,” said the man, sinking his voice almost to a whisper this time. “I won’t say one word more. I won’t, upon my honor.”
The gag was duly cut and prepared, and nothing was wanting except another word from Mr. Kelley to induce Sim to put it where it belonged; but the man took just one look at it and concluded that the best thing he could do was to keep still. He never showed any disposition to open his head until the scouts were seen coming back with the information that the train was approaching. They came in a hurry, too, as if they were anxious to get something off their minds.
“Where’s Sprague?” were the words they shouted as they galloped along the road; whereupon Mr. Sprague showed himself. “The train is coming,” they said, as soon as they came within hearing of their leader. “Every blessed one of them is coming, and are acting as if they didn’t fear anything.”
“Did they see you?” inquired Mr. Sprague.
“No, they didn’t. We hid our horses in the bushes, and then went and lay down beside the road until we saw the train coming. Yes, sir, we’re going to get them all.”
Mr. Sprague and his scouts went into the bushes again out of sight, and then he noticed that Mr. Kelley wasn’t so anxious to keep in the background so much as he had been. He was even disposed to go out of the bushes, but he hadn’t made many steps in that direction when Simeon seized him by the collar and stretched him flat on his back.
“Oh, now, Simeon – ”
“Not another word out of you,” said his guard, savagely. “You will get the gag in your mouth as sure as you’re alive.”
“Take your stand close behind him,” said Mr. Sprague, who was getting angry now, “and with the very first words he utters shoot him down. We are not going to have our plans spoilt for the sake of him.”
Leon, who stood close at his father’s side and heard all this conversation, grew as pale as death when he found that the wagon-train was coming. He clutched his revolver nervously, and determined that whatever danger his father got into he would be there to help him. The leader glanced at his son’s pale face and said, in a low tone:
“Leon, I think you had better stay here as a guard to these prisoners.”
“Are you going out there to face that escort?” asked Leon.
“Of course I am. I shall be right in the thickest of it.”
“Then I’m going, too.”
“But you will be safe here. They can’t hit you, even if they shoot at you.”
But Leon only shook his head, and at that moment somebody whispered that the foremost wagons were in sight. That turned Mr. Sprague’s attention into a new channel, and Leon was left to himself. He glanced at Simeon and his captive, and was gratified to see that Mr. Kelley had been forced to sit down, and Simeon was standing there with his cocked gun ranged within two inches of his head. He wanted to speak, and made a motion to Simeon to turn the gun the other way, but as often as he did this the piece was raised to his guard’s shoulder, and the words froze on his lips.
The foremost wagon came along as rapidly as the mules could draw it, and after what seemed an age to Leon the wagons were all in view. When the leading wagon was almost opposite to him Mr. Sprague raised his hand to his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Never in his life had he given a better one. He wasn’t excited at all. There was a moment’s silence there in the brush, and out popped the cavalry and infantry, and in less time that it takes to tell it the wagon-train was surrounded. Not a shot was fired. To say that the rebels were astounded would not half express their feelings. Every teamster had three or four guns looking at him, and the cavalry, who occupied the advance of the train, were surrounded with horsemen that were two to their one.
“Well, by George! You have done this up in good shape,” said the rebel captain, after he had taken time to get his wits together. “What are you – Union?”
“Yes, sir; Union to the backbone,” replied Mr. Sprague. “May I trouble you for your sword and revolver?”
“That was as neat a surprise as I ever saw,” said the captain, as he unbuckled his belt and handed it to Mr. Sprague. “You didn’t give us time to fire a shot. What are you going to do with us? Put us in jail?”
“No, sir. We shall allow you to go where you please,” said Mr. Sprague, accepting the belt and fastening it about his own waist. “We are not making war on your folks now, but on your provisions. We shall have to take your horses, too. Dismount.”
“I guess father’s all right, and now I’ll get some weapons of my own,” said Leon, as he turned his horse and rode along the line of the escort. “There must be some rebels in there that haven’t given up all their fire-arms.”
As he rode along he found a soldier on the inside of the third four who held his weapons in his hand and was looking around for somebody to give them to. When he saw Leon approaching he held his sword, revolver and carbine toward him over his companion’s horse.
“Come out here,” said Leon. “I shall have to take your horse as well as your weapons.”
“Well,
