The Return of the Freedom Thief

by Mikki Sadil

  Ben took his last sip of coffee, and placed the tray on the floor. By the time he had laid out the two bedrolls, one on top of the other, placed the pillow at one end, and spread out the blanket, Puck was in the bed, covers pulled up to her head, and already asleep. Bed laid down on the bedrolls and tucked the pillow under his head. The last thing he remembered was pulling the blanket over him.

  * * *

  By mid-morning of the next day, Ben and Puck were ready to start for the town of Buckley. Broomville did have a newspaper, but it was small, had a lot of township events and stories about the people of the town, but not too much of real news. The one thing it did say, much to Ben’s dismay, was that the state of Kentucky was under fire due to its neutrality, and skirmishes between Union and Confederate soldiers happened daily. In one news article, Ben read that President Lincoln had said, “To lose Kentucky is almost the same as losing the entire war.”

  The publisher was happy to give Ben as many newspapers as he could carry. He stuffed as many into his satchel as it would hold, thanked the publisher, but as he started to mount up, the publisher put a hand on his arm. “Young fella, I don’t know what you’re up to, but you seem like a nice lad. So I’m telling you this for your own good. Be careful out there. This war is closer than it seems, and both sides are out for winning. Them Rebels are muggings, every one of them, and the Federals aren’t much better. Keep a good head on you, and good eyes on everyone around you. Good luck with wherever you are headed.”

  Ben and Puck spurred their horses, and in a short while, Broomville was far behind them.

  The sun was just beginning to push its way through the clouds the next morning, when Ben and Puck neared the town of Buckley. After sleeping a few hours on hard, cold ground, they were both sitting stiff and sore in their saddles. As they came up to the top of a hill, Ben could hear the sounds of officers shouting orders, horses neighing, and the echoes of a few random shots being fired. He pulled Socks to a halt, and stared down into the town below them. It was larger than he had thought by looking at the map, and now was crowded with Confederate soldiers. At the far end of the town, he could see where troops had set up tents and make-shift corrals for their horses. More startling than that, however, was the amount of artillery: cannons of all sizes, howitzers, and many caissons, all full of ammunition boxes. These troops were seriously armed and ready for battle.

  “Wow! I’ve never seen all that stuff before. Where do you suppose they’re going to go, Ben?” Puck was nervously playing with her reins, and Bandit was side-stepping because of it.

  “I don’t know. What I do know is that we’ve got to be really careful while we’re in town. I want to pick up as much as I can about their troop movements, and how many troops they have, if I can.”

  “Yeah, well, how are you going to do that? You think they’re just going to be jawing away, and around a newsboy at that?”

  Ben frowned. “Puck, don’t be so peevish. Yeah, I think the soldiers will be ‘jawing away’, as you put it. It’s up to me to be in the right place at the right time. And you can’t be with me, you’ll just be a distraction to the men.”

  “Oh, swell. Just what am I supposed to do, then?”

  He sighed. “Dang it, Puck, can’t you for once just do what I say, without a lot of balderdash? You want to do things your own way, so find something to do to get out of my way. And not get into trouble all at the same time.” He picked up his reins, and Socks moved forward. “For now, let’s just get down there and get some breakfast. I’m starving.”

  * * *

  They found a small eatery on the edge of town, and had breakfast. Just as Ben finished the last swallow of coffee, Puck left the table and went into the kitchen. A few minutes she came back, followed by a short woman with an apron around her dress.

  “You this girl’s big brother?” The woman’s voice was hoarse and rough.

  Ben nodded. “That I am. Something wrong, Missus?”

  She laughed, a short laugh that sounded more like a small dog barking. “No, nothin’s wrong. Girl here wants a job as a waiter-girl. She’s too young, so I say she can work as a dishwasher. She say she has to talk to you. So I’m talkin’ to you instead.”

  Ben grinned. “Puck, you willing to work as a dishwasher for this place?”

  “No, I’m not. A waiter-girl has more chance to listen, right?”

  He realized she was trying to be helpful, in her own way. “Uh, yeah, I see what you mean.” He turned to the short woman. “Look, my sister is young, but she’s strong. She has my permission to work as a waiter-girl, if you want to hire her.”

  The woman looked at him sharply, then turned to Puck and scanned her from head to toe. She nodded. “Okay-dokay, she’ll work as a waiter-girl. But one wrong move, and she goes out. She starts now, I got soldiers coming in here ‘afore long, so she be very busy.” She pushed Puck towards the kitchen. “Okay, now, you go get a waiter-dress on, one in closet by the stove. Wash hands, face, do somethin’ with that mop of hair. Then get on out here for me to give a look-see.”

  She turned back to Ben and held out her hand. “Name is Glory, not Missus. I take care of her as best I can. Reckon you best come and get her ‘afore supper. Too many soldiers with too much liquor in them for her to handle at suppertime.” Her grip was strong, her palm calloused.

  Ben shook her hand, and smiled. “One thing, Glory, Puck is strong willed, and independent as all get out. You might want to keep a good eye on her. She’ll work hard for you, but she’s not much for taking orders. Just so you know.”

  She winked at him. “Don’t worry your head none. I don’t reckon that young’un has seen strong will and independent ‘till she works for me.” She grinned at him, and walked away.

  * * *

  Ben found Caleb’s Corral, a large barn with corrals behind it, to bed down the horses. The sign read Caleb’s Corral * Horses Best Friend *

  Board 35cents a Day

  Two Flakes Hay 5cents each Water free!

  He led the two horses inside the barn, where a tall, bearded man was sitting on an upturned water barrel.

  “Hi, are you Caleb?”

  “I reckon I am. You aiming to keep them horses here? That’d be seventy cents fer the day, and twenty cents iffen you want me to feed ‘em.” He slid off the barrel and held out his hand.

  Ben dismounted, dug into his pocket and handed the man the money.

  “I’d like them in the barn here. Is that more?”

  Caleb turned his head, and spit out tobacco juice. He wiped his mouth with a dirty hand, and said, “Naw, that’s fer the barn. No charge ‘cepting for hay iffen you want ‘em out in the corrals.

  Barn’s pert nigh empty right now, so take any stall. I’ll go round up some hay.”

  Ben led the horses into a middle stall, and untacked them both. He put the bedrolls and saddle bags in the far corner, figuring the horses wouldn’t bother them there. Caleb came back with two flakes of hay and a rusty padlock. He threw the hay inside the stall, closed the door, and handed the padlock and a key to Ben. “We’re not known around these parts fer horse stealing, but you never know. I’se you, I’d lock ‘em up. But suit yerself.” He walked away with a limp Ben hadn’t noticed before.

  Ben took the satchel with the newspapers and slung it over one shoulder. With a final pat on Socks’ and Bandit’s noses, he locked the stall door, buried the key in a pocket, and left the barn.

  Outside the barn, the main street was crowded with activity. Besides the normal traffic created by horses, carriages, and people on foot, the street was overflowing with Confederate soldiers. Everywhere Ben looked, groups of soldiers were standing and talking loudly, or pushing their horses brashly through the crowd. He could hear orders being yelled by officers, raucous laughter, and even a few rude comments towards some of the ladies out for an early walk.

  He sauntered down to a group of soldiers standing outside a small tavern. He pulled out a couple of the one-page newspapers, and said, “Hey, fellas, I�
�ve got some newspapers from Broomville, any of you want one?”

  A Sergeant held out his hand. “Yeah, I could use one. Haven’t read any news for a long time now. How much?”

  Ben held out one of the papers. “Uh, well, sir, it would be of no cost to you if, uh, if you could maybe spare me a cup of coffee? I be plum hungry, sir, and would be most grateful.”

  The Sergeant laughed. “Hey, boys, did you hear that? I buy this young lad something to eat and my paper is free. That’s a good one.” He reached over and snatched the paper out of Ben’s hand, just as another voice said, “I think that’s a reasonable exchange, Sergeant, don’t you? Now that you’ve pondered on it, that is.”

  The Sergeant handed the newspaper back to Ben. “Of course, Lieutenant. Boy, come with me, and I’ll get you some vittles. Then I’ll have your paper.”

  The soldiers shuffled their feet, and another voice came from the crowd. “Hey, Sergeant, let’s all go get some of them vittles you talkin’ about. Okay, Lieutenant?”

  The Lieutenant separated himself from the crowd of soldiers, and walked over to Ben. He smiled at him. Totally ignoring the rest of the soldiers, he said, “Where you from, son? I haven’t seen any newsboys around here since we came, and that was two weeks ago.”

  “I come from Broomville, sir. The publisher there said take the newspapers up to the soldiers at Buckley, so here I am. I don’t have too many, though. The boss man didn’t know how many soldiers would be here, I guess.”

  The Lieutenant put his arm around Ben’s shoulders, and started walking with him. Over his shoulder, he told his men to follow.

  “Well, now, I allow nobody in Broomville knows what their Army is doing. We’re here because we’re getting ready to take over the Union Army over to Custer’s Creek. After that, we’re headed up to northern Virginny. We’re gonna end this war before it ever gets started. Isn’t that right, men?” This last remark he threw over his shoulder at the soldiers following him. They laughed loudly, clapped each other on the arm, and chanted, “Dang right, we’re gonna win this war. We’re gonna drive them Yankees all the way home.”

  They were still yelling their chant at the top of their voices when the Lieutenant turned Ben into the same eatery he and Puck had been in earlier.

  “Here we are, sonny boy. Let’s get some food into your belly, then we’ll talk some more. You’ll have some interesting news for your boss man to put into his next paper.”

  Ben was elated at what the officer was saying. Then his heart dropped into his stomach when the same young woman that had served him and Puck that morning came to their table. She cast a quizzical look at him, but didn’t say a word, other than to ask the Lieutenant what he wanted to eat.

  “Well, let’s see what this young man would like. He says his belly has a hole in it, right, son?” The Lieutenant laughed loudly, apparently a cue for the other soldiers to laugh loudly, also.

  Ben didn’t look up. He figured some biscuits and coffee would go down nicely, without giving him a too-full bellyache. But when he asked for that, the Lieutenant would have none of it. “No sirree, lad, a man’s gotta eat. So, Mistress, he’ll have pancakes with syrup, some eggs, as well as the biscuits, lots of butter and jam, and coffee. In fact, make that mine, too. These other men can order what they want.”

  The young woman looked again at Ben, started to speak and thought better of it. She took the Lieutenant’s order, and moved on to the rest of the soldiers, without another glance at Ben. He could only hope she wouldn’t say anything to Puck, who just might come out to see what was going on.

  From then on, the atmosphere was loud and jovial. The twelve men who appeared to be part of the Lieutenant’s troops, laughed and joked among themselves, with the Lieutenant as engaged in the conversations as they all were. Ben sat silently, taking in some of the things the men talked about, like all the new Springfield rifles they had; the British soldiers staying in their camp who brought the Springfields over from England; and most of all, jabbing each other about who was going to learn first and fastest about the new cannon they were taking on their trek to the northern end of the state. They talked loud and laughed raucously, often spitting out bits of food as they went along, creating even more laughter.

  If it’s this easy to get information from the Rebels, this spying thing is going to be easy.

  Ben had no idea how wrong that thought was.

  * * *

  As the breakfast camaraderie died down, Ben gulped down the last bite of pancakes. Eating one more spoonful of anything was out of the question. He felt like he had been stuffed to the point where he couldn’t move. He started to get up from the table, saying to the Lieutenant, “Thank you for the breakfast, but I need to be going. I…”

  The Lieutenant interrupted. “Now, lad, I have some more information for you. You need to ride on out to our camp so we can talk. The sooner the newspapers get hold of what our troops have, and that news gets back to the Union jackanapes, the sooner they’ll turn tail and run. They don’t have near the firepower we do, so when they read that, they’ll head for home. Hear tell they’re all a bunch of cowards, anyways. Look what happened at Bull Run, they just showed their yeller bellies and ran away.”

  Ben felt a tightening in his belly. He wasn’t sure what had happened at Bull Run, but he didn’t believe for a minute that the Union troops would run just because they had read in a newspaper that the Confederates had more or bigger cannons.

  “You mean you think that just because the Union soldiers might read something that says you have better weapons, they won’t attack?”

  “Yep, that’s exactly what I mean. And you’re just the young man to get that news out to them, or anyways, get it back to that publisher you work for.”

  Ben started to respond, when the soldiers began getting up, and one yelled at the Lieutenant, “Hey, Lieutenant, ain’t it time we be getting on the move?”

  The Lieutenant nodded, and said again, “Come on, son, come with us to camp. I’ll show you around, explain all about our artillery, then you can get it to your boss man so he’ll print it in his papers, and you can get it to the Feds.”

  The soldiers left the eatery, and the Lieutenant and Ben trailed behind. Ahead of them, once again the men were punching each other, laughing, and making jokes. People on the streets gave them dark looks, but mostly just tried to stay out of their way.

  Ben got the tightening in his belly again. Did this Lieutenant have him figured out for a spy? If so, going into the camp with him was probably a dangerous move to make. But he couldn’t stay silent.

  “Uh, Lieutenant, I don’t think I’d better do that. The boss man wouldn’t like me just fooling around. Can’t you give me what it is you want him to put in the newspaper?”

  The Lieutenant sighed heavily. “Well, son, uh, by the way, what’s your name, anyway?”

  “It’s Ben.”

  “Okay, Ben. The thing is, I’ve been through the mill with these troops. They are a bunch of raw recruits who can’t even shoot straight, couldn’t hit a bull’s eye with a cannon, much less a rifle. If these Union troops come down on us, it’ll be a massacre, plain and simple.”

  Ben spoke slowly. “So, let me understand this. I take all this info back to the publisher and he prints it. Then I take the newspapers to the Union camp, they think the Confederates can outshoot them, so they won’t attack. Is that right?”

  “Yep, you’ve got it. If we can make them think it’s a lost cause, then we won’t have a battle on our hands.”

  The men had reached the hitching line where their horses were tied up. Before the Lieutenant could mount, Ben said, “Wait a minute, sir. I heard these men talking earlier about Custer’s Creek, taking out the Federals, and heading up to northern Virginia. If they are such new recruits they don’t know anything about shooting and stuff, how come you’re ready to go on an attack? This doesn’t make sense.”

  The Lieutenant looked sharply at Ben. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you? We will be goin
g to Custer’s Creek as soon as I can get these men in shape. If we can forestall any early attack by the Federals, I’ll have more time to get these jackanapes into the fighting strength we need. Any more questions?” Without waiting for an answer, he mounted his horse.

  “Well, are you coming or not?”

  Ben hesitated. “Uh, no, I don’t think so. I’ve got enough information to take back, already, I think. I’ll tell the publisher to make the article as strong as he can. You know if I say that, he might add some things that aren’t really true. I mean, about your strength and everything.”

  The Lieutenant grinned. “Well, if he’s that kind, then let him have a go at it. We’ve got to make the Yankees think they’ll really be mowed down if they come after us. Thanks, Ben, for your help. You take care, now, you hear?”

  He swung into the saddle, gave Ben a salute with two fingers, and galloped off after his men.

  Ben stood looking after him, wondering just who he was helping in this war, the Union Federals or the Confederate Rebels.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Confederate Lies and Union Passwords

  Ben watched the Confederate soldiers until they disappeared down the road. He turned slowly, and walked back to the eatery. As he reached the door, Puck came running out. She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the door. Her face was flushed, and her unruly mop of blonde curls was in worse disarray than normal.

  “Ben, run! We’ve got to get away from here, now. Come on!”

  “Wha…?”

  “Please, they’re after me!”

  He could hear yelling from inside the building, and seeing the look of sheer fright on Puck’s face, he held tightly to her hand and ran with her down the street. He heard the sound of heavy footsteps racing behind them, as well as men shouting. The sun was bright, and hot. It was mid-day, they were strangers in this town, and there was nowhere to hide. They could keep running, and possibly get to the woods outside of town, but then what?