An Undivided Union Part 3

"Does your captain hold a commission from headquarters?"

"'Tain't fer me to answer thet question, Major."

"From the fact that you refuse to answer it, I infer that he does not; consequently he is nothing but a guerilla, and worse, and you are--"

"Hold on, Major, don't be too hard on a poor fellow who has his living to make."

"This isn't making a living--it's stealing one. Tell me truthfully, is Gaffy Denny with your company?"

"Gaffy Denny is first leftenant, Major."

"Where are the others?"

"Somewhere around the house and barns."

"How long since you arrived here?"

"'Bout an hour and a half ago."

"How many are there here? Answer me truthfully, or, my word for it, I and my friends will hang you to one of yonder trees."

"Got many friends with yer, Major?"

"Enough. Now answer my question," and again Deck's weapon came up on a level with the guerilla's head.

"There air twenty-five on us, I reckon."

"Were you the only man left on guard?"

"I dunno."

"Who put you on guard?"

"Leftenant Denny."

"Isn't Captain Ca.s.swell in command?"

"No, the cap'n was shot down in a skirmish three days ago--back of Edmonton, and he's laying at the house of a friend ten miles from yere."

While talking the pair had moved across the road, and now Deck turned his prisoner in the direction of the clearing. Soon they came in sight of General, Clinker, and one other of the slaves.

"The first prisoner, General," said the young officer. "Have you anything with which to bind him?"

"Look yere, Major, this ain't handsome!" cried Sergeant Hank Scudder, in alarm.

"Handsome or not, you can thank your stars that I didn't shoot you dead on the bridge," rejoined Deck. "How about a cord, General?"

"We dun got one, Mars'r Deck," answered the slave, and producing it he and Clinker soon bound the guerilla's hands behind him, after which the rope at his wrists was pa.s.sed around a stout tree.

Deck's next movement was in the direction of the raft, for nothing was to be seen of Artie, and he was anxious to know how the young captain was faring. He had hardly reached the pile of logs to which the raft was moored, when a sharp cry rang out on the frosty air.

"Help! General, Woolly, Clinker! Help!" There followed another cry, and leaping through the brush and onto the logs Deck saw his cousin battling manfully in a hand-to-hand conflict with two rough men in gray, one of whom was trying to possess himself of the captain's sabre.

In such an emergency Major Deck did not hesitate as to a proper course of action. Had the men been regular Confederates he would have been justified in shooting at them; being guerillas he felt himself even more justified. He took careful aim and fired, and the rascal who had just wrenched the sabre from Artie's grasp fell, shot through the thigh, an ugly wound though not a fatal one.

Surprised at the counter-demonstration thus made, the second guerilla turned to see from what direction the shot had come. Giving him no chance in which to take in the situation, Deck fired a second time, the bullet whistling past the man in gray's shoulder. With a yell the fellow started to retreat from the logs, slipped on the wet and frost-covered surface beneath him, and rolled over and over until he went with a loud splash into the creek, not to reappear upon the surface of the icy current until fifty feet away.

"Artie, are you hurt?" demanded Deck, as he watched the man who had gone overboard.

"N--no, but th--that man nearly choked the life out of me," was the answer, with a cough. "Don't let him get away," and the young captain nodded toward the guerilla who was making for the plantation side of the creek.

"He shan't get away." Deck elevated his voice and his shooter at the same time. "Come back here, unless you want a hole put through your head!" he called out.

To this the guerilla did not reply. But he kept on swimming, and seeing this both Deck and Artie fired. A yell of pain was the answer to the shots, and the man turned around.

"Are you coming back?" demanded Deck.

"Yes! yes! don't shoot ag'in!" came with something like a groan.

The wounded man on the logs was writhing in pain, but nothing could be done for him just now, and Deck and Artie watched the man in the water.

"I'm a goner!" came from the individual of a sudden, and throwing up both arms he disappeared from view.

For the instant Deck stared blankly and Artie looked at him. "Was that a genuine move, or is he shamming?" questioned the captain.

"I take it he is shamming," answered the major. "I don't believe he was badly wounded at all. Wait," and he continued to watch.

In half a minute the body of the guerilla appeared, a hundred feet below the logs. "Turn back here, or I'll put a bullet through your body for luck!" sang out Deck, and raised his pistol again.

"Don't! don't!" came the quick reply. "I'll come--don't hit me ag'in, Cap'n!"

In less than five minutes after this the guerilla was on the raft once more. Deck was on the point of marching him up into the grove by the creek road when Levi Bedford came up in the canoe, demanding to know what the several shots meant. He was highly pleased to think that three men had already been put out of the contest.

"I've discovered the guerillas moving around at the back of the mansion and around the largest of the barns," he said. "Now that you have used your pistols the best thing to do, in my opinion, is to get over to the fort and take possession of it."

"You are right," returned Deck. "Let us go over on the raft, as first proposed; but General can come around by the bridge and bring all of the horses, or keep them where they will be handy in case they are wanted.

We ought not to give these guerillas the least chance to escape."

The General was called from his hiding-place and matters were explained.

While he went off with the horses, Levi Bedford led the way to the raft and unmoored her, fastening the painter to the stern of the canoe, which, though so called, was, as old readers already know, really a round-bottom rowboat. The overseer, Deck, and Artie entered the canoe, the first two at the oars, while the slaves deposited themselves on the raft, doing what they could to aid their progress over the stream by means of several sweeps which had been picked up.

CHAPTER IV

A FIRST VICTORY OVER THE ENEMY

It may be asked why a rush was not made upon the mansion and barns, instead of the stealthy advance now under way. The answer to this is, Deck and the others knew that the force to be encountered was larger than their own, and probably just as well, if not better, armed.