by Mikki Sadil
The children started to turn their ponies, but Ben put his hand on John’s arm. “Hey, wait a minute. You can’t ride this alone. I’m going with you to make sure you get to your family. Do they live in a town, or close to one?”
John nodded. “Yes, it’s called Fox Hollow. They live just about a mile from town.”’
Betsy spoke up, her voice happy for the first time since they had met up with Ben. “That’s ‘cause it has lots and lots of foxes there. John, stop talking! I’m going to find Granny and Grandpa right now!” She kicked her pony and rode off in a cloud of dirt and dust.
John looked over at Ben, shook his head, and he and his brother followed their sister.
Ben pulled out his map. Fox Hollow was there, but seemed quite a distance from Fort Henry where he was headed. He put the map away, spurred Mack, and followed after the siblings.
The three children pulled their ponies to a stop in front of a well-kept white house with cheerful yellow shutters on the windows, and a bright yellow door. They tied up to a hitching rail, and ran, shouting, to the front door. The door opened, and all three tumbled, crying, into their grandparents’ arms. Ben dismounted and tied Mack to the rail, but remained beside him. He didn’t want to intrude on what he knew was going to be a very traumatic moment for these people.
* * *
It was coming on to mid-day when Ben left. The grandparents had thanked him profusely for his part in safely getting the children to them. They insisted he stay for breakfast, and had asked him questions about the tragedy in Mansville. He told them what little he knew, and watched the tears run on both of their faces. He knew this was going to be a bad time for them and the children, but as he looked around the well-kept house, and saw the interaction between them and John, Will, and Betsy, he knew that all five would come through this together. Finally, he had to go. He shook hands with John and Will, and gave Betsy a big hug, then left to continue on with his mission.
Ben felt good. He had helped these children find their grandparents after the tragic loss of their parents, and could still get to Fort Henry with his information. He thought about his dream, where he believed that Grammy had spoken to him. Well, dream or not, Grammy, you were right. People are more important than the ‘job’, no matter what that job is. I won’t hesitate the next time, if there is one.
Now, however, he needed to make up some of the time lost. He spurred Mack into a gallop, hoping that there were no more surprises in store for him before he got to Fort Henry.
Chapter Eighteen
Fort Henry and a Lesson in Trains
Ben didn’t get to Fort Henry until the next day, which meant spending another chilly night on the hard cold ground. He was tired and sore, and his muscles were screaming for a hot bath and warm bed. He hoped he could get both at the Fort.
As he rode in the huge gate, the place looked like a hotbed of unorganized activity. Men were running all over, shouting at each other, while others were standing still and looking around as if they had no idea what they were supposed to do next.
He stopped a soldier passing by, and asked for directions to General McPhee’s office. The soldier didn’t ask his reasons for wanting to speak to the General, merely pointed towards a door on the second story of the first building. Ben thanked him, rode over to the hitching rail and tied Mack up. He took the jacket with the hidden messages out of his saddlebag, slung the bag over his shoulder, and hurried up the wooden stairs. A moment later, he walked up to a door with a brass plate the said “Commandant of Fort Henry. He opened the door and walked into a small room, typical of an Adjutant for a commanding officer. The room was bleak, walls papered with maps, letters, and notes all over them, a small desk equally covered with papers of some kind, and, at the moment, was empty. Ben looked around and saw another door with a painted sign that said “General McPhee. Enter at Your Own Risk.”
Well, that’s encouraging. I hope he’s a little more friendly than that sign seems to say.
He knocked, and a husky voice said, “Come.”
He opened the door and walked in. The office was much the same as any Army office he had been in: rough wooden walls, a large desk with an equally large man sitting behind it, and the usual Army paraphernalia on the walls, such as several large maps, a few pictures of war scenes, and several very old weapons hanging rather precariously, as though they could fall at any time.
What caught Ben’s attention the most was the odor in the room: a combination of mint, ginger, and cinnamon, but instead of a pleasant aroma, the smell was old and had a taint of sickness. At that moment, the man behind the desk sneezed. Ben saw the desk was covered in used handkerchiefs and small pieces of toweling.
Ben backed up against the door, not wanting to be caught in the after effects of such a big sneeze. Obviously, the General was ill.
“Well, boy, come in, come in. I won’t kill you, just might give you my cold. So far, I’ve had no luck in giving it away. What do you want, anyway, and where is Captain Boyd?”
Ben stepped cautiously forward, and held out the jacket. “I’m here from Mistress Henshaw, sir. I have information for you. The papers are sewn into the sleeves of this jacket. Mistress Henshaw said the information was very important, and pertained to Washington. Oh, and there was no one in the outer office when I got here.”
The General sniffed, coughed loudly, blew his nose, and held out his free hand. “Fine, I’ve been expecting you. Give me the jacket. What took you so long, anyway?” His voice was hoarse and petulant.
“I’m sorry, sir. Something unexpected came up that I had to deal with.”
“Unexpected? You can’t have something ‘unexpected’ come up when you are on a mission. Nothing is more important than getting where you are supposed to be on time. You are not on time. Just what was this unexpected thing that was so important?”
“Sir, I’d rather not say. It’s a long story, anyway, and I don’t want to take up your time when you obviously are not well.”
The General sneezed again, blew his nose long and loudly, and threw the use piece of toweling onto his desk, making other pieces fall off. He slammed his hand down on the desk, startling Ben, and earning a loud bark from a large dog half hidden behind the desk.
“Young man, when I ask a question I expect an answer, and it doesn’t matter that I am unwell. Now what was this thing that delayed you?” He glared at Ben from bloodshot eyes.
“Yes sir. I was on my way here, and stopped in a small town on the banks of the Potomac River. I was hungry and needed food, and a place to rest for a while. There weren’t any people on the streets, and the whole town just looked deserted. I thought maybe it was some kind of ghost town, but it wasn’t run down. When I went in to the hotel, two men were dead. They had been shot.” Ben went on to relate the story about the town, and the three children who had survived, and had found him.
“I couldn’t let these three little children try to cross the river alone, so that’s why I was delayed.”
The General frowned. “Did the children have any idea who did this deplorable thing? Did they believe it was soldiers?”
“No sir, they had no idea. Fortunately, at least for them, they didn’t even see the men.”
“Now, where is this town again?”
“The name was Mansville. I can show you on my map about where it was.”
Ben pulled his map out of his saddlebag, and spread it out on the desk, taking care to avoid all the soiled handkerchiefs and torn pieces of toweling. He pointed to where the town was on the map. “When the children and I left to get them to their grandparents, we went back upriver to where their father had led them across the river for visits before. There was a road on the side of the Potomac where we were, and that led to their grandparents. They live outside of a town called Fox Hollow.”
The General sneezed loudly again, blew his nose even more loudly, and said hoarsely, “Yes, I know Fox Hollow. We’ve already encountered Rebels there, it is more or less a gateway to the mountains.”
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He rolled up the map and handed it back to Ben. “You have done a good job, late or not. I will expect you to stay here at the fort for now. I have another job for you. Now, if I can just get that danged captain here, he can show you around.”
He banged his hand down on his desk again, several times, and roared as loudly as his voice would permit, “Boyd! Get your lazy self in here, now!”
A door slammed, and a young Captain entered the room, obviously flustered. “Yessir, General, I’m sorry, sir, I had to, uh, relieve myself, sir, I wasn’t gone but a minute, sir, what can I do for you, sir?”
“Oh, stop that whining, Boyd, your ‘minute’ came to a good twenty, at least,” General MacPhee growled. He pointed to Ben. “Now, this here young man is Ben, he’s going to stay with us for awhile, show him to the barracks, get him a good bed, some hot food, show him where the showers are, and then bed down his horse and feed him good. Can you follow all that, or should I write it down?”
The young Captain blushed. “Uh, no sir, General, sir. I will take him to the barracks, get him a bed, some food, show him where to shower, and take care of his horse. Is that all, General, sir?”
“No, it isn’t all. When you’ve finished that, get your backside back here, sit it down at that desk, and let me know you are back, understood?”
“Yessir, General, sir.”
He snapped his hand up in a salute to the General, turned to Ben, said, “Follow me,” and left the office.
Ben was having a hard time keeping a grin off his face at this interchange between the two men. He thanked the General for his hospitality, said it would be a pleasure serving him, and went out the door after the Captain.
* * *
The next morning found Ben again sitting in the General’s office. He felt rested and well-fed, after having had a shower, hot food, and a bed to sleep in. Even if the bed was nothing but an Army cot, it had a pillow and blankets, and sure beat sleeping on the hard ground. He had checked on Mack and found him munching contentedly on a big mound of alfalfa, so even the horse was in good hands.
The activity within the fort hadn’t seemed to diminish any from when he arrived, although this morning several platoons of soldiers were out on the parade grounds marching. At least now there seemed to be some level of organization, as opposed to all the frantic running around he had seen yesterday.
General MacPhee came in, blowing his nose. He nodded to Ben, sat down, pulled out a desk drawer and took a big slug of whiskey from a bottle inside. He swallowed, wiped his mouth with his hand, and turned to Ben.
“Well, young man, did the Captain feed and bed you to your satisfaction?”
“Yes, sir, everything has been fine. Did you need me for something else this morning, or should I be on my way?”
The General frowned. “I want you to be on your way, but I have another job for you. Here,” he stopped and pulled out a small map from a drawer. He pointed to a circle. “Here is the town of Sageville. It is an important train stop for the Confederates. I want you to go there, mingle for a while with the soldiers and pick up as much information as you can. Then, there will be a place for you to meet up with three other men. The four of you are to get on this train and ride out of town. It will be a supply train, and it will be headed to Sharpsburg. I have information about Sharpsburg, about some big battle that is supposed to take place there in early fall. You and the three other men will see to it that this train does not make it to Sharpsburg.”
Ben shook his head. “General, I know nothing about trains. None of my assignments have ever had anything to do with wrecking trains or stopping them in any way. How can I be of any help to these other three men?”
General MacPhee coughed. “Dang this cold. Ben, I don’t care about what you know or don’t know. Meet with these men, and follow their instructions. That’s all. Here’s the map, get some food from the mess hall, get your horse and get out of here.”
Ben knew when to keep his questions to himself. He took the map, started to thank the General until he saw the impatience on his face, and left the office without another word.
The General sneezed loudly as Ben closed the door, followed it with a string of swear words, and then yelled loudly for Captain Boyd.
Ben grinned as he walked through the outer office and felt a moment of compassion for the missing Captain Boyd, as he was once again not in sight. He hurried down the steps to the corral where Mack had been stabled.
* * *
Hours later, Ben pulled Mack to a stop atop a high hill just outside of the town of Sageville. Below, he saw the train station, with miles of track fading into the distance. The town was larger than those he had been in recently, and was heavy with activity from both the citizens and Confederate soldiers. The map the General had given him marked the train station, the saloon he was supposed to meet up with three men known only as Sam, Joe, and Finn, as well as the route the train took to get to Sharpsburg, in northern Maryland.
Ben sighed, took up the reins and urged Mack forward. A few minutes later, he tied the horse up to the hitching rail in front of a saloon with a sign saying, “Tate’s Tavern. Anybody’s Welcome Except Womenfolk.”
Huh. I don’t know why women would even want to go into a saloon, when the men are always drinking and acting like idiots. Even Pa never drank whiskey like I’ve seen in the last year.
He settled the holster and pistol against his hip. He was so used to wearing it now it was almost an automatic motion whenever he dismounted. He went through the swinging doors, stopped, and looked around. The place was crowded with Confederate soldiers and men from the town, yet the mood was not wild and disruptive as he had seen so many times before. Loud talk, shouts of laughter, and a few beer mugs being slammed down on the wooden tables was the most noise that came from inside. Otherwise, things looked and sounded pretty civilized, especially for a saloon.
Saloon? Well, this one is called a tavern. Maybe there’s a difference this far north that I don’t know about.
Ben wondered if he could spot a place where just three men sat. That might be the only way he would know these men he was supposed to meet. His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice at his elbow. “You look like you are lost. Can I help you?”
Surprised, he turned to see a buxom young woman dressed in a stylish dress with red and white stripes, a very low neckline, and a white apron. Her very red hair was pulled to one side, and cascaded down the front of her dress in long curls. Blue eyes sparkled, as did the smile on her face.
“Oh, uh, well, I’m, uh, looking for some, uh, some friends. There’s three of them, but I don’t see three men sitting by themselves anywhere.”
The young woman said, “You must be new in town. Right?”
Ben was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. Who was this woman, and why was she here when the sign definitely stated no women?
“Uh, yeah, I just got in. Uh, I thought women couldn’t come in here?”
She laughed. “Oh, that’s just my father. I’m Cassie, Tate’s daughter. I wait on these hooligans, at least, sometimes. When they are behaving themselves, I’ll serve them. When they get too rowdy and mean, I leave. So, who are these men you’re looking for? They’ve got names, right? Maybe I know them.”
Ben wasn’t sure what to say. As spies, they surely wouldn’t want their names to be known, even if they were false.
“Well, uh, do you know if you’ve served just three men sitting by themselves?”
She gave him a sharp look. “Three nameless men sitting by themselves, huh. As a matter of fact, yes, they are in the back. Right by the back door. Seems that’s the way they came in. Kind of strange, don’t you think?”
Ben shrugged. She continued to stare at him for a moment, and then gave a little laugh. “Oh, all right. I’ll show you where these mystery men are. Come on, you look like a lost sheep.”
Ben followed her as she weaved her way among all the tables, sidestepping a few soldiers who tried to slap her on the rear as she p
assed. One succeeded, and she stopped dead. Before either Ben or the soldier knew what was happening, her hand came out and slapped the soldier across the face with enough strength to knock him off the bench he was sitting on. The other soldiers began laughing loudly.
“Any one of you want to try that again?” She looked around at the soldiers with fire in her eyes. One hand slipped into an apron pocket and came out with a small pistol, which she waved in front of the soldiers seated at that table.
“You think that’s so smart, huh? You want to laugh? You laughing at me, or at your friend here?”
She pointed the pistol at first one soldier and then another. The laughter quit, and the entire room was quiet.
“Fine. You best remember that just because I’m a woman, doesn’t mean you treat me with disrespect. Next time one of you hooligans try that, I’ll use this on you. You hear me?”
One of the soldiers reached for his beer mug. A shot rang out, the mug exploded, and his hand and arm were spattered with pieces of glass and covered in foamy beer.
In the shocked silence that followed, Cassie smiled and returned the pistol to her pocket. “I just wanted to show you that I can use this pistol. Don’t worry, soldier boy, I’ll get you some more beer.”
She turned to Ben. “Come on, don’t stand there gawking. Tate and I have to do things like this all the time. Keeps everyone in line.”
She led the way to the back of the room. At a round table sat three men, just a few feet from the back door. She pointed to them. “There they are. I expect they are up to something nefarious, but if they are who you’re looking for, just be careful. You look like too nice a young man to be mixed up with them.” She turned and went back to the front of the tavern.
Ben walked over to the table. He didn’t speak. The three men stared at him, until one of them said, “Where’d you come from?”