Rodney The Partisan

by Harry Castlemon

  CHAPTER IX.

  ON THE ROAD.

  The breakfast which Nels and his assistant placed upon the table in duetime was eaten almost in silence, for those who sat down to it had somuch thinking to do that they had no time for conversation. When RodneyGray had satisfied his appetite he opened his trunk and took from it apair of saddle-bags, which he proceeded to fill with a variety of usefularticles. His thoughtful mother had packed the trunk as full as it couldhold, and Rodney could not take a quarter of the things with him. Heknew he couldn't when he started; but the trunk was necessary to aid himin the game of deception he played upon the Baton Rouge telegraphoperators. By taking it aboard the _Mollie Able_, together with aliberal supply of hay and grain for his horse, he led them to believethat he was really going on to St. Louis. After filling the saddle-bags,he rolled his blankets into a compact bundle so that he could strap thembehind him on his horse.

  "I have left a good many things in there that I can't take with me,"said he, as he locked the trunk and handed the key to Jeff. "And if Idon't come back and claim them within a reasonable time, you are atliberty to take them for your own. How much damage have I done yourcommissary department since I have been here?"

  "How much damage have you done which?" exclaimed Jeff.

  "How much do you want for the fodder I and my horse and that Yankee'shorse have eaten?" repeated Rodney.

  "Oh; why didn't you say so? You and your horse are as welcome as theflowers in May; and as for that thief's critter, I wouldn't let you paya cent for him any way. But I'm sorry you aint got your own boss to rideto Springfield."

  "So am I. Mine is the better horse, and besides I don't at all like theidea of having every man I meet take me for a thief. Have you a revolveryou would be willing to sell at your own price?"

  "What kind of a fellow are you, anyhow?" exclaimed Mr. Westall, whostood by listening. "Do you mean to say that you have come up here,intending to ride through these turbulent settlements, without bringingalong something to defend yourself with?"

  "That is the most dangerous article I have about me," answered Rodney,putting his hand into his pocket and drawing out the big jack-knifeLieutenant Odell had given him the day before he left home. At the sametime he wondered what the Emergency man would have said and done if hehad been aware that the boy to whom he was talking had brought arevolver with him, and that he had given it to Tom Percival to defendhimself in case he was attacked.

  "I never heard of a more foolish piece of business," exclaimed Mr.Westall, with an air which said very plainly that he had no patiencewith such a fellow as Rodney Gray was. "What sort of people did youthink you were going to meet, I should like to know. I suppose you haveheard that there are Northern sympathizers in this State, and that theyare about the meanest folks you will find on top of the earth?"

  "I have heard all about it; but I supposed that I should find our ownpeople in the majority. This is a Southern State, isn't it?"

  "In some places they are in the majority and in some they are not,"replied Mr. Westall. "Of course this is a Southern State; but don't youknow that those Dutchmen in St. Louis have gone back on GovernorJackson, and that he and the members of the legislature have had to runfor their lives? Why, boy, you may be called upon to defend yourself inless than an hour after we leave you. Got a revolver to spare, Jeff?"

  "Aint got none of that sort," replied the wood-cutter. "There aintnothing but rifles in the shanty."

  "Then I shall be obliged to let you have one of mine," said theEmergency man, taking a belt down from a peg beside the door, anddrawing an ancient Colt from one of the holsters. "I may be able toreplace it some time or other; but whether I am or not, you mustn'tthink of starting for Springfield without a weapon where you can putyour hand on it. It is rather large and heavy for your pocket and youhave no belt; so you will have to shove it into your boot leg. That's ashandy a place to carry it as any I know of."

  When both parties are willing to trade it does not take them long tocome to an understanding, and in a very short time some of Rodney's goldwent into Mr. Westall's pocket, and the revolver into the leg of theboy's boot. In ten minutes more the horses had been brought out of theyard and prepared for the journey, Rodney placing his own saddle andbridle on his new steed, and leaving Tom's for Jeff to dispose of in anyway he saw proper.

  "I reckon I'm just that much ahead of the hounds," said the wood-cutter,with a grin. "That hoss-thief won't never dare to come after his saddle,and mebbe it'll bring me in a few dollars for tobacker. Farewell, and besure and drop in as often as you come this way. Look out for yourself,you Louisanner feller."

  The path that ran through the woods to the big road leading from CapeGirardeau to Lesterville, the place where Rodney's companions would takeleave of him and turn toward Ironton, was all of three miles long, andso narrow that they were obliged to ride in a single file. Mr. Westallremarked, with a careless laugh, that it was a good thing for them thatthe people living in the vicinity were mostly Confederates, for thewoods on each side of the path were thick, and would afford the nicestkind of cover for a bushwhacking party.

  "I suppose there are plenty of Union people between here and yoursettlement?" observed Rodney.

  "Lots of 'em; and they are not only dead shots, but they know every hogpath in the woods and are as sneaking and sly as so many Indians.They'll fight, too. We know that to be a fact, for we've got some ofthem for near neighbors."

  "Then perhaps it is just as well that you have me instead of Percivalwith you," said Rodney. "If you had taken him a prisoner to Pilot Knob,what assurance have you that you would not have been bushwhacked on theway?"

  "None whatever; but we would have been willing to take our chances onit."

  The Emergency man spoke carelessly enough, but Rodney noticed that hehad not neglected to make preparations for a fight. The single revolverhis belt contained had been transferred to the night holster, and thestrap that usually passed over the hammer to keep the weapon in place,had been unbuttoned so that the heavy Colt could be drawn in an instant.This made Rodney feel rather uneasy. Perhaps he would not have been sovery frightened at the prospect of a fair stand-up fight, but the fearthat somebody might cut loose on him or some member of his party with adouble-barrel shotgun before any of them knew there was danger near, wasmore than his nerves could stand. He was glad when they left the woodsbehind and rode out into the highway; but it wasn't half an hour beforehe had occasion to tell himself that when the Emergency men took leaveof him and turned off toward their own settlement, the woods would bethe safest place for him. They were riding along two abreast, Mr.Westall and Rodney leading the way, when, as they came suddenly to anarrow cross-road, they found themselves face to face with along-haired, unkempt native mounted on the leanest, hungriest muleRodney had ever seen. He rode bare-back, his spine bent almost in theform of a half circle, his body swaying back and forth, and with everystep his beast took he pounded its sides with the heels of hisboots--not with the object of inducing the mule to quicken its pace, butbecause the motion had become a habit with him. He was surprised andstartled when he found himself so close to the Emergency men, and partlyraised the muzzle of the heavy double-barrel shotgun he carried in frontof him; but a second glance seemed to relieve his fears, for he grinnedbroadly, and waited for the horsemen to come up.

  "Wal, ye got him, didn't ye?" said he; and the words went far to confirmthe fear that had haunted Rodney Gray ever since he found that TomPercival had gone off with the roan colt, leaving his ownwell-advertised horse behind him. This ignorant backwoodsman, who didn'tlook as though he knew enough to go in when it rained, had recognizedthe horse the moment he put his eyes on him.

  "Oh, this isn't the man at all, Mister--a--I declare I havedisremembered your name," exclaimed Mr. Westall.

  "I don't reckon ye ever knowed it, kase I never seed hide nor hair ofnone of ye afore this day," replied the native, with another grin. "Butit's Swanson, if it will do ye a
ny good to hear it. I live back here inthe bresh about a couple of milds."

  "How does it come that you are so prompt to recognize us if you neversaw us before?" inquired Rodney.

  "Oh, I hearn tell that there was some of Jeff Thompson's men ridingthrough the kentry looking for a hoss-thief, and I knowed the hoss whenI seen him. But ye say this aint the thief," answered the native, withan inquiring glance at Mr. Westall.

  "That was what I said," replied the Emergency man. "He is a friend ofours, belongs to Price, and you want to take a good look at him and thehorse too, so that you will know them again if you happen to meet themanywhere on the road."

  And then Mr. Westall went on to tell who Tom Percival was and where helived, not forgetting to lay a good deal of stress on the statement thathe was not only a strong Union man, but a horse-thief as well. This madeRodney angry, but of course he couldn't help himself.

  "You want to keep a bright lookout for a young fellow in his stockingfeet, riding a bareback roan colt," said the Emergency man, inconclusion. "If you fall in with such a chap, you will make something bybringing him to Pilot Knob settlement and asking for Mr. Westall."

  "I'll keep them words in mind," replied the native, urging the muleforward by digging him in the ribs with his boot heels.

  "You'll have to look in the woods for him," observed the man Harvey. "Itisn't at all likely that he will keep the road in daylight when hehasn't a thing to defend himself with."

  "I aint thinking about that any more'n I am about him having no bootson," said the Missourian, looking back over his shoulder. "There'splenty of mean folks in this kentry that'll give him we'pons and clothesfor the asking. If I can't get the drop on to him, I won't say a word tohim."

  "This is just what I was afraid of," Rodney remarked, when the man hadpassed out of hearing. "Every one who meets me on the road will lookupon me with suspicion, and perhaps I had better take to the woodsmyself."

  "Don't think of it," answered Mr. Westall, hastily. "You would be sureto lose your way and stand a fine chance of being bushwhacked besides.You will find that the boldest course is the best; and that's dangerousenough, goodness knows," he added, in an undertone.

  When the party halted for dinner the scene we have just described wasre-enacted. Before any of them had a chance to say a word the planter atwhose gate they stopped began abusing Rodney in the strongest languagehe could command; and he was such a rapid talker that he succeeded insaying a good many harsh things before Mr. Westall and his companionscould stop him. When he was made to understand that he had committed ablunder, and that the boy was as good a Confederate as he was himself,the planter was profuse in his apologies.

  "Alight," said he, giving Rodney his hand and almost pulling him out ofhis saddle. "I'm sorry for what I said, but that horse made me suspicionyou. I wouldn't ride him through the country for all the money there isin Missoury. You'd best give up trying to find Price and jine in withThompson's men. You won't have to go so far to find 'em."

  Rodney had thought of that, but there was Dick Graham! He could not giveup the hope of finding his old schoolmate and serving out his year withhim.

  After the planter had given the Emergency men a good dinner he broughtout writing materials, and Mr. Westall proceeded to write the letter hehad promised to give Rodney, and which he hoped would be the means oftaking him safely through to Springfield. He and all his friends, theplanter included, signed it, and the boy tucked it into his boot leg.

  "You may be sure that I shall not show it to any Union man," said thelatter, with a smile. "It would hang me."

  When they passed through the little settlement of Lesterville aboutthree o'clock that afternoon, Rodney and the horse he rode attractedattention on every hand. All the farmers in the country for miles aroundseemed to have flocked into town to discuss the latest news, and thestreets were full of loungers, every one of whom stared at the party andhad something to say regarding the boy, who was supposed to be aprisoner. On two or three occasions Mr. Westall thought it prudent tostop and explain the situation; and every time he did so, the loungerscame running from all directions to hear about it. Some of them thoughtthat Tom Percival had played a regular Yankee trick on Rodney in runningoff with the roan colt and leaving him a stolen horse to ride, andadvised him to look out for himself. The story that Mr. Westall and hisfriends had circulated about Tom seemed to have made every one hisenemy.

  "I suppose you think every man we have been talking to is a Jackson man,don't you?" said Mr. Westall, when they had left the settlement behindand reached the open country once more. "Well, they aint. I saw someUnion men listening to what we said, and if they see a roan colt and aboy without any boots on, they'll halt them and give them aid andcomfort."

  "I am very glad to hear that," said Rodney to himself. "Tom needs help,if any one ever did, and I hope he will get it. It's going to beticklish business steering clear of Union men, is it not!" he said,aloud.

  Mr. Westall thought it was, but still he did not have very much to sayabout it, for since Rodney was resolved to go on, he did not want todiscourage him. As his journey progressed he would learn all about theobstacles and dangers that lay in his course, and when they came, hewould have to surmount or get around them the best way he could. A mileor so farther on they came to another crossroad, and there Mr. Westalldrew rein and held out his hand to Rodney.

  "Our course lies off that way," said he, "and we must bid you good-by.You've got money and letters, and know as much about the road ahead ofyou and the people who live on it as we know ourselves. Is thereanything we can do for you that you think of?"

  "Not a thing, thank you," replied the boy, as he shook hands with eachof the Emergency men. "You have been very kind, and I believe the adviceand information you have given me will take me safely through. Good-by;and whenever you hear that Price has whipped the Yankees, you may knowthat I was there to help him do it."

  "That's the right spirit, anyway. I like your pluck, and if we see youagain, we shall expect to see you wearing an officer's uniform."

  The Emergency men lifted their hats and galloped off down thecross-road, and Rodney Gray was left alone in a strange country, andwith letters on "his person that would compromise him with any party ofmen into whose company he chanced to fall. There was Tom's horse, too.The animal was bound to bring his rider into trouble of some sort, forof course a description of him had been carried through the country formiles in advance. He felt savage toward the innocent beast which wascarrying him along in an easy foxtrot, and bitterly hostile toward TomPercival who had blundered into his way when he was least expecting tosee him.

  "Why didn't he stay in his own part of the State where he belonged?"thought Rodney, spitefully. "I hope to goodness the Yankees--but afterall it was my own fault, for didn't I hand him that stick and give himthe only revolver I had? And he couldn't have got his own horse out ofthat yard without arousing the dogs. It's all right, and I won't quarrelwith Tom Percival."

  To Rodney's great relief he did not meet a man that afternoon (no doubtthe farmers had all gone into town to talk politics with theirneighbors), but there were plenty of womenfolks in the houses along theroad, and they had their full share of curiosity. They flocked to thedoors and windows and looked closely at him as he passed, and Rodneyknew well enough that the men would hear all about him when they camehome at night.

  When darkness came on Rodney Gray began to realize the helplessness ofhis position. It was time he was looking for a place to stay all night,but what should he say to the farmer to whom he applied for supper andlodging? If he told the truth and declared himself to be a Confederate,and the farmer chanced to belong to the opposite side, or if he tried topass himself off for a Unionist and the farmer proved to be a red-hotJackson man:

  "Ay, there's the rub," thought Rodney, looking down at the ground indeep perplexity. "There's where the difficulty comes in, and I don'tknow how to decide it."

  He was not called upon to decide the matter that night, for while thesethoughts we
re passing through his mind, a voice a short distance inadvance of him began shouting:

  "Pig-g-e-e! pig-g-i-i! pig-g-o-o!" And a chorus of squeals and grunts,followed by a rush in the bushes at the side of the road, told him thatthe call had been heard, and that the farmer's hogs were making haste toget their supper of corn. Before Rodney could make up his mind whetherto stop or keep on, his horse brought him from behind the bushes whichhad covered his approach, and the boy found himself within less thantwenty feet of a man in his shirt-sleeves, who stopped his shouting andstood with an ear of corn uplifted in his hand.

  "Evening," said Rodney, who saw that it was useless to retreat.

  "I'll be dog-gone!" said the man, throwing the ear of corn with unerringaim at the head of the nearest porker and beckoning to Rodney with bothhands. "Come out of the road. Come up behind the bresh and be quickabout it."

  Rodney obeyed, lost in wonder; but as he rode across the shallow ditchthat ran between the road and the fence behind which the farmer stood,he did not neglect to give his right leg a shake to loosen his revolver,which during his long ride had worked its way down into his boot. Ofcourse the farmer had made a mistake of some kind, and Rodney was ratheranxious to learn what he would do when he found it out.

  "I have been a-hoping that you would come along and sorter looking forit," continued the man, as Rodney drew up beside the fence. "But Ididn't dast to look for such a streak of luck as this. He's waiting foryou."

  "He? Who?" asked Rodney; and then he caught his breath and wondered ifhe had done wrong in speaking before the man had opportunity to explainhis meaning.

  "Tain't worth while for you to play off on me," replied the farmer,leading the way along the fence and motioning to Rodney to follow. "Iknow the whole story from beginning to end, but I can't take you wherehe is tonight. You'll have to stop with me till morning, but you and thecritter'll have to be hid in the bresh, kase Thompson's men aint goneaway yet."

  Here was one point settled, and it wasn't settled to the boy'ssatisfaction, either. The man on the other side of the fence, who nowstopped and let down a pair of bars so that he could ride through intothe barnyard, was a Union man; and, to make matters worse he took Rodneyfor the same. But what was that story he had heard from beginning toend, and who was it that was waiting for him? Rodney dared not speak forfear of saying something he ought not to say, and so he held his peace.When he had followed his guide through the yard and into a smallbuilding that looked as though it might have been fitted up for acow-stable, the latter continued, speaking now in his natural tone ofvoice as if he were no longer in fear of being overheard:

  "He was looking for me all the time, and I knowed it the minute I seteyes on to him."

  "Friend of yours?" said the boy, at a venture.

  "In a sartin way he are a friend, but I never see him till thisafternoon. I know his uncle up to Pilot Knob, and when I see him ridingby the house and looking at it as though he'd like to say something ifhe wasn't afraid, I told him to 'light, and asked him wasn't he lookingfor Merrick. That's me, you know. He said he was, and you might haveknocked me down with a straw when he told me he was kin to old JustusPercival. Why don't you 'light?"

  The farmer might have knocked Rodney down with a straw too, if he hadhad one handy, for the boy was very much surprised. He got off his horsesomehow and managed to inquire:

  "What did he tell you about me that made you know me as quick as you sawme?"

  "He told me everything about you--how you had run away from Louisiannerkase your folks was all dead set agin the Union, and come up to Missourythinking to get amongst people of your own way of thinking, and run pluminto a nest of traitors before you knowed it."

  "That was at Cedar Bluff landing, was it?" said Rodney.

  "That's the place. And then he told me how you played off on themwood-cutters till you made 'em think you was hot agin the Union, same asthey was, and so they give you a chance to holp him outen that corn-criband shove him a revolver to take care of himself with."

  "And how did he repay my kindness?" said Rodney. "By taking my colt andleaving me a stolen horse to ride."

  "This critter wasn't stolen no more'n your'n was," replied the farmer,in tones so earnest that Rodney began to fear he had stepped upondangerous ground. "That was a lie that man Westall and amongst 'em gotup to drive him outen his uncle's settlement. This is his hoss and he'sgot your'n."

  "Where is he now?"

  Instead of answering the farmer gave Rodney's arm a severe gripe andshake, and then seized the horse by the nose. A second later they hearda body of men riding along the road in front of the cow-stable.

  "Don't give a loud wink," said the farmer, in a thrilling whisper."Them's some of Thompson's critter-fellers."