Rodney The Partisan Part 15

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

"He? Who?" asked Rodney; and then he caught his breath and wondered if he had done wrong in speaking before the man had opportunity to explain his 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. "I know the whole story from beginning to end, but I can't take you where he is tonight. You'll have to stop with me till morning, but you and the critter'll have to be hid in the bresh, kase Thompson's men aint gone away yet."

Here was one point settled, and it wasn't settled to the boy's satisfaction, either. The man on the other side of the fence, who now stopped and let down a pair of bars so that he could ride through into the barnyard, was a Union man; and, to make matters worse he took Rodney for the same. But what was that story he had heard from beginning to end, and who was it that was waiting for him? Rodney dared not speak for fear 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 small building that looked as though it might have been fitted up for a cow-stable, the latter continued, speaking now in his natural tone of voice 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 set eyes 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 this afternoon. I know his uncle up to Pilot k.n.o.b, and when I see him riding by the house and looking at it as though he'd like to say something if he wasn't afraid, I told him to 'light, and asked him wasn't he looking for Merrick. That's me, you know. He said he was, and you might have knocked me down with a straw when he told me he was kin to old Justus Percival. Why don't you 'light?"

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

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

"He told me everything about you-how you had run away from Louisianner kase your folks was all dead set agin the Union, and come up to Missoury thinking to get amongst people of your own way of thinking, and run plum into 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 them wood-cutters till you made 'em think you was hot agin the Union, same as they was, and so they give you a chance to holp him outen that corn-crib and shove him a revolver to take care of himself with."

"And how did he repay my kindness?" said Rodney. "By taking my colt and leaving 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 upon dangerous ground. "That was a lie that man Westall and amongst 'em got up to drive him outen his uncle's settlement. This is his hoss and he's got your'n."

"Where is he now?"

Instead of answering the farmer gave Rodney's arm a severe gripe and shake, and then seized the horse by the nose. A second later they heard a 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."

CHAPTER X.

COMPARING NOTES.

Rodney Gray held his breath and listened, and then he stepped close to the side of the stable and looked through a crack between the logs. It was almost dark by this time, but still there was light enough for him to count the men who were riding by, and he made out that there were an even dozen of them. They knew enough to move two abreast but not enough to carry their guns, which were held over their shoulders at all angles, and pointed in almost every direction.

"Are they guerrillas?" he asked, at length.

"Ger-which?" whispered the farmer. "Them's Thompson's men, and I don't like to see 'em pointing t'wards the swamp the way they be."

"What's down there?" inquired Rodney.

"Why, he's down there," replied Merrick, in a surprised tone. "Tom Percival, I mean."

"Anybody with, him?" continued Rodney.

"Half a dozen or so Union men, who had to clear out or be hung by Thompson's men," replied the farmer. "If you knowed just how things stand here in Missoury, and how sot every man is agin his nearest neighbor, I don't reckon you'd ever tried to ride to Springfield."

"I am quite sure I wouldn't," answered Rodney. "How do Thompson's men happen to know that Percival is hiding down there in the swamp?"

"I reckon Swanson must a told 'em; and he's the meanest man that was ever let live, as you would say if you could have one look at his face."

"I met him to-day while I was riding in company with Mr. Westall and his friends," replied Rodney. "They made him believe I was a good rebel, and told him to look out for a boy in his stocking feet who was mounted on a roan colt."

"And that's just what he done. I reckon he must a ketched a glimpse of Percival just before I fetched him into the house, for I had barely time to hide the roan colt and get the boy into the kitchen before I seen Swanson riding by. He didn't once look toward the house but that didn't fool me, and I lost no time in taking Percival into the swamp where them Union friends of mine is hid. Swanson went right on past, leaving word at all the houses of the 'Mergency men that there was a Yankee horse-thief loose in the kentry, and they've went out to ketch him. They know where he is, and think to surround him and the rest of the Union fellers and take 'em in in a lump; but they'll get fooled. There's some sharp men in that party, and they won't allow themselves to be surrounded."

The farmer did not tell this story in a connected way as he would if there had been no danger near. He kept moving from one side of the stable to another, listening and peeping at all the cracks, and talked only when he stopped to take the horse by the nose to prevent him from calling to those that were pa.s.sing along the road; but he said enough to make Rodney very uneasy. Tom Percival had done him a great favor by telling Merrick who he was, describing him and his horse so minutely that the man knew them the instant he saw them, and Rodney was very grateful to him for it; but that sort of thing must not on any account be repeated. It must be stopped then and there if there was any way in which it could be done. It would never do to let Tom keep ahead of him, spreading a description of himself and his horse among the farmers who lived along the old post-road, for he might, without knowing it, take a Confederate into his confidence; and suppose Rodney should afterward fall in with that same Confederate and show him the letter addressed to Mr. Percival, and which was intended for the eyes of Union men only? The Confederate would at once accuse him of sailing under false colors, and trying to pa.s.s himself off for one of Price's soldiers when he was in reality a Lincolnite. The boy shivered when he thought of the consequences of such a mistake.

"I'll tell you what's a fact," he said, to himself, stamping about the stable with rather more noise than he ought to have made, seeing that the guerrillas had barely had time to get out of hearing. "The farther I go toward Springfield, the deeper I seem to get into trouble. I must either find Tom and ride the rest of the way with him, or else I must get ahead of him. If I don't do one or the other he will put me into a sc.r.a.pe that I can't work out of."

"Now you stay here and I will go out and snoop around a bit," said Merrick, when the sound of the hoof-beats could be no longer heard.

"What I am afraid of is that they will leave some of their men to watch the house."

"Do your neighbors know that you are a Union man?" asked Rodney, as he stepped up and took the horse by the bits.

"They know I'm neutral, and that's just about as bad as though they knew I was Union," was the reply. "They aint done nothing to me yet but I know I'm watched, and so I have to mind what I am about. If the men who just went by knew how I feel, I wouldn't dast to lift a hand to help you. They'd have me hung to one of my shade trees before morning."

As Merrick spoke he glided out into the darkness, and Rodney was left alone to think over the situation; but Merrick had not been gone more than five minutes when the horse indicated by his actions that there was some one approaching the stable. Presently a twig snapped, a hand was pa.s.sed along the wall outside and a figure appeared in the doorway. It wasn't tall enough for Merrick, and besides it had a coat on. Believing that it was one of Thompson's men who had been left behind to watch the house, Rodney drew his revolver from his boot leg and c.o.c.ked it as he raised it to a level with his eyes and covered the figure's head.

"Don't shoot, Merrick," said the intruder, who had probably heard the click of the hammer. "What's the good of helping a fellow one hour if you are going to shoot him the next?"

"Tom Percival!" exclaimed Rodney, in guarded tones.

In an instant the figure sprang into the stable and seized Rodney in his arms.

"Did anybody ever hear of such luck?" said Tom, who was the first to recover his power of speech. "Where are you going and what business have you got up here in my State, you red-hot rebel?"

"I never expected to be on such terms with a Yankee horse-thief," answered Rodney, letting down the hammer of his revolver and putting the weapon back in its place.

"I knew just how much faith you would put in that outrageous story," said Tom. "It was got up against me on purpose to induce the planters in my uncle's settlement to run me out."

"To hang you, you mean," corrected Rodney. "That's what they would have done with you before to-morrow morning."

"If it hadn't been for you," added Tom; and he did not talk like a boy who had so narrowly escaped with his life. "I heard your story down there in Jeff's cabin, and knew that you kept your promise and enlisted within twenty-four hours after you reached home. And I know, too, that your company didn't want to join the Confederate army or leave the State. What did they want to do then? They're a pretty lot of soldiers. Well, it's a good thing for them that they stayed at home, for you rebels are going to get such a licking-"

"Have you licked d.i.c.k Graham back into a proper frame of mind yet?" interrupted Rodney.

"No. Haven't had the chance. He helped raise the first company of partisans that left the southwestern part of the Slate to join Price, and I have scarcely heard of him since. I had a lively time dodging Price's men when I went up to St. Louis to offer the services of my company to Lyon, and when I heard you tell Westall that you were going to undertake the same kind of a journey, I felt sorry for you. I am overjoyed to see and have a chance to speak to you, Rodney, but I don't know whether we ought to stick together or not. Of course Merrick took you for a Union man," added Tom, in a suppressed whisper.

"Certainly. I didn't have much to say to him until I found out who he thought I was. Did you go it blind when you addressed him as a Union man?"

"Oh, no. I know the name of every man it will do to trust for twenty miles ahead," replied Tom. "But I've got his name in my head. I haven't a sc.r.a.p of writing about me, and I am sorry to know that you have. Take my advice and stick everything in the shape of a letter you have in your pockets into the tire the first good chance you get."

"I have been thinking about that all the afternoon. What if I should fall in with a party strong enough to search me? I've got a letter addressed to Erastus Percival."