Si Klegg, Book 5

by John McElroy

  CHAPTER XII. SHORTY ON A HUNT

  GOES AFTER KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN CIRCLE.

  THAT evening, as Shorty was gathering his things together, preparatoryfor starting to the front the next morning, Lieut. Bigelow, one ofthe General's young Aids, thrust his head through the doorway and saidgleefully:

  "Here, Corporal; I want you. I've got a great lark. Our Secret Servicepeople report a bad lodge of the Knights of the Golden Circle out herein the country that threatens to make trouble. It is made up of localscalawags and runaway rebels from Kentucky and Tennessee. They havea regular lodge-room in a log house out in the woods, which they havefixed up into a regular fort, and they hold their meetings at nights,with pickets thrown out, and no end of secrecy and mystery. The Generalthinks that they are some of the old counterfeiting, horse-stealing gangthat infested the country, and are up to their old tricks. But it may bethat they are planning wrecking a train, burning bridges and the like.They've got so bold that the Sheriff and civil officials are afraid ofthem, and don't dare go near them. I've persuaded the General to let metake out a squad and jump them. Want to go along?"

  "I'm your huckleberry," said Shorty.

  "I knew you'd be," answered the Lieutenant; "so I got the General tolet me have you. We'll get some 10 or 12 other good boys. That will beenough. I understand that there are about 100 regular attendants at thelodge, but they'll not all be there at any time, and a dozen of us caneasily handle what we find there at home."

  "A dozen'll be a great plenty," assented Shorty. "More'd be in the way."

  "Well, go out and pick up that many of the right kind of boys, bringthem here, and have them all ready by 10 o'clock. You can find guns andammunition for them in that room upstairs."

  Shorty's first thought was of his old friend, Bob Ramsey, Sergeant ofthe Provost-Guard. He found him, and said:

  "See here, Bob, I've got something on hand better'n roundin' upstragglers and squelchin' whisky rows. I've got to pick out some men fora little raid, where there'll be a chance for a red-hot shindy. Want togo along?"

  "You bet," answered the Sergeant. "How many men do you want? I'll get'em and go right along."

  "No, you don't," answered Shorty. "I'm to be the non-commish of thiscrowd. A Lieutenant'll go along for style, but I'll run the thing."

  "But you're only a Corporal, while I'm a Sergeant," protested Bob."'Taint natural that you should go ahead of me. Why can't you and I runit together, you next to me? That's the correct thing."

  "Well, then," said Shorty, turning away, "you stay and run your oldProvo-Guard. This is my show, and I aint goin' to let nobody in it aheado' me."

  "Come, now, be reasonable," pleaded Bob. "Why can't you and I go alongtogether and run the thing? We'll pull together all right. You knowI've been a Sergeant for a long time, and know all about the handling ofmen."

  "Well, stay here and handle 'em. I'll handle the men that I take, allright. You kin gamble on that. And what I say to them has to go. Won'thave nobody along that outranks me."

  "Well," answered Bob, with a gulp, "let me go along, then, as aCorporal--I'll change my blouse and borrow a Corporal's--"

  "Rankin' after me?" inquired Shorty.

  "Yes; we had a Corporal promoted day before yesterday. I'll borrow hisblouse."

  "Promoted day before yesterday," communed Shorty; "and you won't presumeto boss or command no more'n he would?"

  "Not a mite," asserted Bob.

  "Well, then, you kin come along, and I'll be mighty glad to have you,for I know you're a standup feller and a good friend o' mine, and Ialways want to oblige a friend by lettin' him have a share in any goodfight I have on hand."

  Jeff Wilson, the Chief Clerk, got wind of the expedition, and he toobegged to be taken along, to which Shorty consented.

  When Lieut. Bigelow came in at 10 o'clock he found Shorty at the head of12 good men, all armed and equipped, and eager for the service.

  "In talking with the Secret Service men," explained the Lieutenant,"they suggested that it would be well to have one good man, a stranger,dressed in citizen's clothes--butternut jeans, if possible--to go aheadat times and reconnoiter. He ought to be able to play off refugee rebel,if possible."

  "I'll do it. I'm just the man," said Shorty eagerly.

  "Well, just come in here," said the Lieutenant. "Now, there's a lot ofbutternut jeans. I guess there's a pair of pantaloons long enough foryou."

  When Shorty emerged from the room again there was a completetransformation. Except that his hair was cut close, he was a perfectreproduction of the tall, gaunt, slouching Tennesseean.

  "Perfect," said the Lieutenant, handing him a couple of heavy Remingtonrevolvers. "Stow these somewhere about your clothes, and get thatblacking off your shoes as soon as you can, and you'll do."

  It was planned that they should sleep until near morning, when the spiesof the Knights of the Golden Circle were not alert, enter a freight-car,which they would keep tightly shut, to escape observation, while thetrain ran all day toward a point within easy reach of their quarry. Itwould arrive there after dark, and so they hoped to catch the Knightsentirely unawares, and in the full bloom of their audacity and pride.

  The car which the squad entered was locked and sealed, and labeled,"Perishable freight. Do not delay." Their presence was kept secretfrom all the train hands but the conductor, a man of known loyalty anddiscretion.

  Shorty being in disguise, it was decided that he should saunter downapart from the rest and take his place in the caboose. He lay down onthe long seat, drew his slouch-hat over his eyes, and seemed to go tosleep. The train pulled out to the edge of the yard, went onto a switchand waited for the early morning accommodation to pass out and get theright-of-way.

  A heavily-built, middle-aged man, whose coarse face had evidently beenclosely shaved a few days before, entered, carrying a large carpet-sack,which was well-filled and seemingly quite heavy. He set this carefullydown on the seat, in the corner, walked up to the stove, warmed hishands, glanced sharply at Shorty, said "Good morning," to which Shortyreplied with a snore, took a plug of tobacco from his pocket, fromwhich he cut a liberal chew with a long dirk that he opened by givinga skillful flip with his wrist, put the chew in his mouth, released thespring which held the blade in place, put both knife and tobacco in hispocket, and turning around spread the tails of his seedy black frockcoat, and seemed lost in meditation as he warmed.

  "Not a farmer, storekeeper or stock-buyer," Shorty mentally sized himup, "Looks more like a hickory lawyer, herb-doctor or tin-horn gambler.What's he doin' in this caboose? Up to some devilment, no doubt. He'llbear watchin'."

  And Shorty gave another snore. The man, having completed his warming,sat down by his carpetsack, laid his arm across it to secure possession,pulled his battered silk hat down over his eyes, and tried to go tosleep.

  The train rumbled out, and presently stopped at another station. Anotherman got on, also carrying a large, heavy carpet-sack. He was youngerthan the other, looked like a farm-hand, was dressed partly in homespun,partly in "store-clothes," wore a weather-stained wool hat, and hissullen face terminated in a goatee. The first-comer looked him over aninstant, and then said:

  "Were you out late last night?"

  "I was," replied the second-comer, scanning his interrogator.

  "Did you see a star?"

  "I did."

  "What star was it?"

  "It was the Star of Bethlehem."

  "Right, my brother," responded the other, putting out his hand in apeculiar way for the grip of the order.

  Shorty, still feigning deep sleep, pricked up his ears and drank inevery word. He had heard before of the greeting formula by which Knightsof the Golden Circle recognized one another, and he tried, with onlypartial success, to see the grip.

  He saw the two men whisper together and tap their carpet-sackssignificantly. They seemed to come to a familiar understanding at once,but they talked so low that Shorty could not catch their words, exceptonce when the first-comer raised his voi
ce to penetrate the din as theycrossed a bridge, and did not lower it quickly enough after passing, andShorty heard;

  "They'll all be certain to be there tonight."

  And the other asked: "And the raid'll be made ter-morrer?"

  The first-comer replied with a nod. At the next bridge the same thingoccurred, and Shorty caught the words:

  "They've no idee. We'll ketch 'em clean offen their guard."

  "And the others'll come out?" asked the second-comer.

  "Certainly," said the first, lowering his voice again, but the look onhis face and the way he pointed indicated to Shorty that he was sayingthat other lodges scattered through the neighborhood were onlywaiting the striking of the first blow to rise in force and marchon Indianapolis, release the rebel prisoners there and carry havocgenerally.

  "I see through it all," Shorty communed with himself. "They're goin'to the same place that we are, and've got them carpet-bags filled withrevolvers and cartridges. Somebody's goin' to have a little surpriseparty before he's a day older."

  The sun had now gotten so high that Shorty could hardly pretend to sleeplonger. He gave a tremendous yawn and sat up. The older man regarded himattentively, the other sullenly.

  "You must've bin out late last night, stranger," said the first.

  "I was," answered Shorty, giving him a meaning look.

  "Did you see a star?" inquired the older man.

  "I did," answered Shorty.

  "What star was it?"

  "The Star of Bethlehem," answered Shorty boldly.

  "'You're right, my brother," said the man, putting out his hand for thegrip. Shorty did the same, trying to imitate what he had seen. The carwas lurching, and the grasp was imperfect. The man seemed only halfsatisfied. Shorty saw this, and with his customary impudence determinedto put the onus of recognition on the other side. He drew his hand backas if disappointed, and turned a severe look upon the other man.

  "Where are you from?" asked the first-comer. Shorty curtly indicated theother side of the Ohio by a nod.

  "Where are you goin'?"

  Shorty's face put on a severe look, as if his questioner was tooinquisitive. "Jest up here to 'tend to some bizness," he answeredbriefly, and turned away as if to close the conversation.

  "Say, I've got a right to know something about you," said the firstnew-comer. "I'm Captain of this District, and have general charge o'things here, and men passin' through."

  "All right," answered Shorty. "Have general charge. I don't know you,and I have bizness with men who roost a good deal higher'n you do."

  He put his hands to his breast, as if assuring himself of the presenceof important papers, and pulled out a little ways the official-lookingenvelope which contained his transportation and passes. This had itseffect. The "Captain" weakened. "Are you from the Southern army?" heasked in a tone of respect.

  "Before I answer any o' your questions," said Shorty authoritatively,"prove to me who you are." "O, I kin do that quick enough," said the"Captain" eagerly, displaying on his vest the silver star, which wasthe badge of his rank, and his floridly printed commission and abadly-thumb-marked copy of the ritual of the Knights of the GoldenCircle.

  "So far, so good," said Shorty. "Now give me the grip."

  Shorty, by watching the motions of the other's hand, was skillful enoughto catch on to the grip this time, and get it exactly. He expressedhimself satisfied, and as the car lay on the siding waiting for anothertrain to arrive and pass he favored his two companions with one of hisfinest fictions about his home in Tennessee, his service in the rebelarmy, the number of Yankee Abolitionists he had slain with his own hand,and his present mission with important communications to those "friendsof the South in Illinois" who were organizing a movement to stop thebloody and brutal war upon his beloved Southland.

  His volubility excited that of the "Captain," who related how he hadbeen doing a prosperous business running a bar on a Lower MississippiRiver boat, until Abolition fanaticism brought on the war; that he hadthen started a "grocery" in Jeffersonville, which the Provost-Marshalhad wickedly suppressed, and now he was joining with others of hisoppressed and patriotic fellow-citizens to stop the cruel and unnaturalstruggle against their brethren of the South.

  "And we shall do it," he said warmly, bringing out the savage-lookingdirk, throwing it open with a deft movement of his wrist, and shavingoff a huge chew of tobacco. "We have a hundred thousand drilled andarmed men here in the State of Injianny, jest waitin' the word, to throwoff the shackles of tyranny and destroy the tyrants.

  "There's another hundred thousand in Illinois and like numbers in otherStates. And they'll fight, too. They'll fight to the death, and everyone of them is good for' at least three of the usurper Lincoln'sminions. I'd like nothing better than to get a good opportunity at threeor four o' 'em, armed with nothin' more'n this knife. I'd like nothin'better than the chance to sock it into their black hearts. 'Twouldn'tbe the first time, nuther. The catfish around Jeffersonville could tellsome stories if they could talk, about the Lincoln hounds I've fed to'em. I only want a good chance at 'em agin. I may go, but I'll takeseveral of 'em with me. I'll die in my tracks afore I'll stand this anylonger. I hate everything that wears blue worse'n I do a mad-dog."

  "And I promise you," said Shorty solemnly, "that you shall have all thechance you want sooner'n you think for. I know a great deal more'n Idare tell you now, but things is workin' to a head mighty fast, andyou'll hear something drop before the next change o' the moon. You kinjest bet your shirt on that."

  The day was passing, and as the evening approached the train was runningthrough a wilder, heavily-wooded country. Shorty's companions took theirseats on the opposite side of the car and peered anxiously out of thewindow to recognize features of the darkening landscape. They wereevidently getting near their destination.

  Shorty overheard the "Captain" say to his partner:

  "The train'll stop for water in the middle of a big beech woods. We'llget off there and take a path that leads right to the lodge."

  "How far'll we have to tote these heavy carpetbags?" grumbled the other.

  Shorty slipped his hand into his pocket, grasped his revolvers and easedthem around so that he could be certain to draw them when he wanted to.He was determined that those men should not leave the train before thestopping place arranged for his fellow-soldiers. He felt confident ofbeing able to handle the two, but did not know how many confederatesmight be in waiting for them.

  "I'll go it if there's a million of 'em," said he to himself. "I'll savethese two fellers anyway, if there's any good in 45-caliber bullets intheir carcasses. I'm jest achin' to put a half-ounce o' lead jest wherethat old scoundrel hatches his devilment."

  The engine whistled long and shrilly.

  "That's the pumpin'-station," said the "Captain," rising and laying holdof the handles of the carpetbag.

  "Drop that. You can't leave this car till I give the word," said Shorty,rising as the train stopped, and putting himself in the door.

  "Can't, eh?" said the "Captain," with a look of rage as he comprehendedthe situation. His dirk came out and opened with a wicked snap. "I'llcut your black heart out, you infernal spy."

  'HOW DO YOU LIKE THE LOOKS OF THAT, OLD BUTTERNUT 169]

  "You will, eh?" sneered Shorty, covering him with a heavy Remington."How'd you like the looks o' that, old butternut? Your murderin' dirkaint deuce high. Move a step, and you'll know how it feels to havedaylight through you."

  The "Captain" smashed the window with a backward blow of his fist,thrust his head out and yelled the rallying-cry of the Knights:

  "Asa! Asa!"

  The sound of rushing feet was heard, and a man armed with a shot-guncame into the plane of light from the open caboose door. Shorty was onthe lookout for him, and as he appeared, shouted;

  "Halt, there! Drop that gun. If you move I'll kill this whelp here andthen you."

  "Do as he says, Stallins," groaned the frightened "Captain." "He's gotthe drop on me. Drop your gun, but h
oller to the boys in the front carto come out."

  To Shorty's amazement a score of men came rushing back from the carnext ahead of the caboose. They had, by a preconcerted arrangement, beenjumping on the train ever since it grew dark, and collected in that car.Some of them had guns, but the most appeared unarmed.

  "Well, I have stirred up a yaller-jacket's nest for sure," thoughtShorty, rather tickled at the odds which were arrayed against him. "ButI believe I kin handle 'em until either the train pulls out or the boyshear the ruction and come to my help."

  Then he called out sternly as he raised the revolver in his left hand:

  "I'll shoot the first man that attempts to come on this car, and I'llkill your Captain, that I've got covered, dead. You man with thatshot-gun, p'int it straight up in the air or I'll drop you in yourtracks. Now fire off both barrels."

  It seemed to every man in the gang that Shorty's left-hand revolverwas pointing straight at him. The man with the shot-gun was more thancertain of this, and he at once complied with the order.

  There was a whistle, followed by a rush of men from a line further out,and every man of those around Shorty was either knocked down or rudelypunched with a musket-barrel in the hands of Lieut. Bigelow's squad.

  "What in the world made you so long comin'?" asked Shorty, after all theprisoners had been secured. "Was you asleep?"

  "No," answered the Lieutenant. "This is the place where we intended toget off. We were quietly getting out so as to attract no notice whenyou started your circus. I saw you were doing well, hiving those fellowstogether, so I let you go ahead, while I slipped the boys around togather them all in. Pretty neat job for a starter, wasn't it?"