Chasing an Iron Horse Part 7

Macgreggor sullenly replaced his pistol. He could not but see the force of Watson's reasoning. The Major rose to his feet. He was smiling away again, as if he were enjoying himself.

"We surrender!" announced Watson with a woebegone expression on his strong face.

"You'll admit," said Lightfoot, "that I was too clever for you?"

There was no answer. George picked up Waggie. "Can I take my dog along with us, wherever we go?" he asked.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Major Merely Changed the Position of His Legs]

The Major suddenly advanced towards George, and patted the tiny animal.

"h.e.l.lo! Waggie, how are you, old man?" he cried.

George gasped. "How on earth did you know Waggie's name?" he asked. For Waggie had been chewing at a bone on the floor ever since the entrance of the Confederate, and his master had not addressed a word to him during that time.

"I know his name almost as well as I do yours, George Knight," said Lightfoot.

In his excitement George dropped Waggie on a chair. The three Northerners heard this last announcement with open-mouthed astonishment.

Lightfoot burst into a great laugh that made the mystery the more intense.

"Why, comrades," he cried, "I ought to go on the stage; I had no idea I was such a good actor. Don't you know your friend, Walter Jenks?" The Southern accent of the speaker had suddenly disappeared.

The listeners stood dumfounded. Then the whole situation dawned upon them.

They had been most gloriously and successfully duped. This Major Lightfoot was none other than Walter Jenks, a sergeant from General Mitch.e.l.l's camp, whom Andrews had sent out on the bridge-burning party. He had shaved off his beard, and a.s.sumed a Southern accent (something he was able to do because he was a Marylander), so that the guests at the Page mansion had failed to recognize him.

Jenks shook the three warmly by the hand. "It was a mean trick to play on you fellows," he explained, lowering his voice, "but for the life of me I couldn't resist the temptation."

"How on earth did you turn up here in the guise of a Confederate officer?"

asked Watson, who now felt a sense of exhilaration in knowing that he might yet join Andrews at Marietta.

"It is too long a story to tell," whispered Jenks. "I'll only say here that I got lost from the other two fellows I was traveling with--was suspected of being a spy in one of the villages I pa.s.sed through--and, to avoid pursuit, had to shave off my beard and disguise myself in this Confederate uniform, which I was lucky enough to 'appropriate.' I was nearly starved--stumbled across this place or my way down--told a plausible story (Heaven forgive me for deceiving so delightful a lady as Mrs. Page)--and here I am! And the sooner we set off from here, the sooner we will meet at the appointed town."

"When the war's over," remarked Macgreggor, "you can earn a fortune on the stage."

Half an hour later the four Northerners had taken a grateful farewell of the unsuspecting Mrs. Page, and were hurrying along the bank of the Tennessee. By four o'clock in the afternoon they had reached a point directly opposite Chattanooga. Here they found a ferryman, just as they had been given to expect, with his flat "horse-boat" moored to the sh.o.r.e.

He was a fat, comfortable-looking fellow, as he sat in tailor-fashion on the little wharf, smoking a corncob pipe as unconcernedly as though he had nothing to do all day but enjoy tobacco.

Watson approached the man. "We want to get across the river as soon as possible," he explained, pointing to his companions. "This officer (indicating Walter Jenks, who retained his Confederate uniform) and the rest of us must be in Chattanooga within half an hour."

The ferryman took his pipe from his mouth and regarded the party quizzically. "You may want to be in Chattanooga in half an hour," he said, in a drawling, lazy fashion, "but I reckon the river's got somethin' to say as to that!" He waved one hand slowly in the direction of the stream, which was, without a shadow of doubt, an angry picture to gaze upon. Its waters were turbulent enough to suggest that a pa.s.sage across them at this moment would be attended by great risk.

But to the anxious travelers any risk, however great, seemed preferable to waiting. If they missed the evening train from Chattanooga to Marietta their usefulness was ended. No bridge-burning adventure for them!

"I tell you we _must_ get over to-night," urged Jenks, who hoped that his uniform would give him a certain prestige in the eyes of the ferryman. "I am Major Lightfoot, of the --th Virginia, and I'm on an important mission.

Every minute is precious!"

"That may be true enough, Colonel," replied the man, ignoring the t.i.tle of "major," and taking a whiff from his pipe. "That may be true enough, but I calculate nature's got somethin' to say in this world. And I calculate I ain't a-going to risk my life, and the happiness of my wife and five children, by tryin' to stem the Tennessee in this turmoil."

George's heart sank within him. To be so near the realization of his dream of adventure, and to be stopped at the eleventh hour by this stupid, cautious boatman! Waggie, who had been frisking near him, suddenly became solemn.

Watson pulled from his coat a large pack of Confederate money. "There's money for you," he cried, "if you'll take us over!"

The ferryman eyed him in a sleepy way, and took another pull at that provoking pipe.

"Money!" he said, after a long pause, during which the Northerners gazed at him as if their very lives depended on his decision. "Money! What's the use to me of money, if we all get drowned crossing over?"

As he spoke the river roared and rushed downwards on its course with a heedlessness that quite justified him in his hesitation. "Wait till to-morrow morning, and the Tennessee will be quieter. Then I'll help you out."

"Wait till doomsday, why don't you say?" thundered Jenks. "We must take the risk--and I order you to take us over, at once!"

"You may be a very big man in the army," answered the ferryman, "but your orders don't go here!" He produced a small tin box from the tail of his coat, leisurely poured from it into his pipe some strong tobacco, and slowly lighted the stuff. Then he arose, walked to the edge of the wharf, and beckoned to a lad of nine or ten years old who was half asleep in the boat. The boy jumped up, leaped upon the wharf, and ran off along the river's bank in the opposite direction from which the four strangers had come. He had received a mysterious order from the ferryman.

"What's the matter now?" asked Macgreggor, who had a strong desire to knock down this imperturbable fellow who refused to be impressed even by a Confederate uniform.

"Nothing," replied the man, stolidly. He sat down again, crossed his legs, and took a long pull at the pipe.

"For the last time," shouted Jenks, shaking his fist in the smoker's face, "I order you to take out that boat, and ferry us across the river!"

"For the last time," said the man, very calmly, "I tell you I'm not going to risk my life for four fools!"

George walked up closer to Watson, and whispered: "Let's seize the boat, and try to cross over ourselves!"

Watson beckoned to his two companions, and told them what the boy suggested.

"We will be taking our lives in our hands," said Jenks, "but anything is better than being delayed here."

"Besides," added Macgreggor, "although the river _is_ pretty mischievous-looking, I don't think it's any more dangerous than waiting here."

Jenks took out his watch, and looked at it. "I'll give you just five minutes," he said, addressing the ferryman, "and if by that time you haven't made up your mind to take us over the river, we'll take the law into our own hands, seize your boat, and try the journey ourselves."

Waggie began to bark violently, as if he sympathized with this speech.

The man smiled. "That will be a fool trick," he answered. "If it's dangerous for me, it'll be death for you uns. Better say your prayers, partner!"

"Only four minutes left!" cried Jenks, resolutely, keeping an eye on the watch.

The ferryman closed his eyes and resumed his smoking. The others watched him intently. Meanwhile George was thinking. Two minutes more pa.s.sed. The boy was recalling a saying of his father's: "Sometimes you can taunt an obstinate man into doing things, where you can't reason with him."

"Time is up!" said Jenks, at last. "Come, boys, let's make a break for the boat!"

The ferryman placed his pipe on the ground with the greatest composure.

"Take the boat if you want," he observed, rising to his feet, "but you fellows won't get very far in it! Look there!"

He pointed up the river's bank. The boy who had been sent away a few minutes before was coming back to the wharf; he was now, perhaps, a quarter of a mile away, but he was not alone. He was bringing with him five Confederate soldiers, who were walking briskly along with muskets at right shoulder.

"You fellows looked kind o' troublesome," explained the ferryman, "so as there's a picket up yonder I thought I'd send my son up for 'em!"

Watson made a move towards the boat. "Better stay here," cried the ferryman; "for before you can get a hundred feet away from the bank in this contrary stream those soldiers will pick you off with their muskets.

D'ye want to end up as food for fishes?"