Rodney The Partisan Part 17

Rodney sat down in the nearest chair, rested the hand that held his revolver on the table, and waited and listened with as much patience as he could command.

CHAPTER XI.

RODNEY MAKES A TRADE.

"You are a pretty partisan, you are," whispered Tom Percival, while they were waiting for Mrs. Merrick to open the front-door. "Those men outside are friends of yours, and yet you stand ready to fight them."

"I don't claim friendship with any cowardly bushwhacker," answered Rodney hotly. "I don't collogue [a.s.sociate] with any such."

"Then you'll have to do one of two things," said Tom. "Go home and stay there, or else join the Confederate army. Nearly every man in Missouri is a bushwhacker. Now listen."

Tom did not follow his own suggestion, for when he heard the front door creak on its hinges, he laid down his revolver and covered his ears with his hands. This made Rodney turn as white as a sheet and get upon his feet again, fully expecting to hear the roar of a shotgun, followed by the clatter of buckshot in the hall; but instead of that, there came the calm, even tones of Mrs. Merrick's voice inquiring:

"What is it?"

"If I had that woman's pluck I'd be a general before this thing is over," said Rodney, "I've always heard that a woman had more courage than a man and now I know it."

"Listen," repeated Tom, who had by this time taken his hands down from his ears.

There was no immediate response, for the party at the gate had looked for somebody else to answer their hail. Presently the same m.u.f.fled voice inquired:

"Is Mr. Merrick to home?"

"He was a few minutes ago, but he is not in now," said his wife. "Have you any word to leave for him?"

"No, I don't reckon we have. We'll ketch-we'll see him some other time."

"Who shall I say called?"

"It don't matter. We're friends of his'n who wanted to see him on business. Goodnight."

"Good-night," replied Mrs. Merrick, as if her suspicions had not been roused in the slightest degree; and then she shut the door and came back into the kitchen. She was pale now and trembling; and Rodney made haste to offer her a chair while Tom poured out a gla.s.s of water.

"I told you they wouldn't hurt her," he found opportunity to say to Rodney. "But if Merrick had gone to the door he would have been full of buckshot now."

"They might as well shoot her as to scare her to death," replied Rodney.

"This is a terrible state of affairs."

"I believe you. And we haven't seen the beginning of it yet. What have they got against your husband any way, Mrs. Merrick?"

The woman kept her eyes fastened upon Tom's face while she drank a portion of the water he had poured out for her, and then she handed back the gla.s.s with the remark:

"Mr. Merrick is Union and so are you."

"How do you know that?" demanded Tom. "Has he told you my story?"

"He hasn't said a word; but I have been over to a neighbor's this afternoon, and while I was there, I saw you and a roan horse go into our cow-lot. A little while afterward old Swanson rode up and told us about a Yankee horse-thief who was going through the country, trying to reach Springfield. That shows how fast news travels these times. And that isn't all I know," she added, nodding at Rodney. "You are as good a Confederate as I am."

"Then how does it come that I am colloguing with a Yankee horse-thief?" exclaimed Rodney, who wanted to learn how much the woman really knew about him and his friend.

"That is something I do not pretend to understand," was the answer. "But there must be some sort of an arrangement between you, for one is riding the other's horse. Now perhaps you had better go. I will put up a bite for you to eat during the night, and will try to get a breakfast to you in the morning. I shall have to let you out of a side door, for you would be seen if you went out of this well-lighted room; and if I were to put out the lamp, it would arouse the suspicious of any one who may happen to be on the watch."

"This reminds me of the days I have read of, when the women fought side by side with their husbands and sons in the block-houses," thought Rodney, as he shoved his revolver into his boot leg and waited for the lunch to be put up. "What a scout she would make."

Mrs. Merrick probably knew that the boys would not devote much time to sleeping that night, for the "bite" she put up for them was equal in quant.i.ty to the hearty supper they had just eaten. She was aware, too, that they would have to "lie out," and anxious to know if they had any blankets to keep them warm. It might not be quite safe for them to build a camp fire, and consequently they would need plenty of covering. There was the lunch, and Tom needn't be so profuse in his thanks, for while she believed in fighting the Lincoln government, since it was bound to force a war upon the South, she did not believe in starving Union boys on account of their principles. She hoped Tom would reach home in safety, and advised him when he got there to turn over a new leaf and go with his State.

"Do you remember what that British colonel said to his commanding officer, after he had visited General Marion in his camp and dined with him on sweet potatoes?" inquired Rodney, after the two had been let out at the side door and were stealing along the fence toward the cow-stable where Mr. Merrick was patiently waiting for them. "The colonel said, 'You can't conquer such people;' and he was so impressed with the fact that he threw up his commission and went home to England. That is what I say to you, Tom Percival. The North can't conquer the South while we have such women as Mrs. Merrick in it."

"Now listen at you," replied Tom. "The North doesn't want to conquer the South, and you don't show your usual common sense in hinting at such a thing. The people-and when I say that, I mean the Union men both North and South-say that you secessionists shall not break up this government; and if you persist in your efforts, you are going to get whipped, as you ought to be. Hallo, Mr. Merrick," he added, stopping in the door of the stable and trying to peer through the darkness. "Did you hear those gentlemen asking for you a while ago?"

"I was listening," replied the farmer, with a chuckle. "But I disremembered the voice. The feller talked as though he was holding a handkercher or something over his mouth. How many of them was there? I seen three."

"We didn't see any, for Mrs. Merrick wouldn't let us go to the door," replied Rodney. "She was the coolest one in the kitchen."

"She's got tol'able grit, Nance has," replied the farmer, and there was just a tinge of pride in his tones when he said it. "I may happen over t'other side the ridge some night, and then the tables will be turned t'other way. Now, if you are ready, we'll make tracks for the swamp. The way is clear. Thompson's men have give it up as a bad job and gone home."

"Did they pa.s.s along the road?" exclaimed Rodney. "We never heard them."

"I did, and seen 'em too. There was a right smart pa.s.sel of 'em-more'n enough to have made pris'ners of all the Union fellers in the swamp, if they hadn't been afraid to face the rifles that them same Union men know how to shoot with tol'able sure aim."

"Why is it necessary for them to hide out?" asked Rodney. "What have they done?"

"I don't rightly know as I can tell you," replied the farmer, in a tone which led the boy to believe that he could tell all about it if he felt so disposed. "But it seems that some high-up Secesh has disappeared and n.o.body don't know what's went with 'em; and some folks do say that them fellers in the swamp had a hand in their taking off. I dunno, kase I wasn't thar."

So saying, Merrick led the horse from the stable and the boys followed without saying a word, for they were by no means sure that Thompson's men had all gone away. They went through a wide field that had once been planted to corn, and when they had pa.s.sed a gap in the fence by which it was surrounded, they found themselves in the edge of a thick wood.

"I don't see how you ever found your way through here alone," said Rodney to his friend. "It is as dark as pitch."

"Oh, I wasn't alone. One of those Union men came with me as far as this gap, and then I came on well enough," replied Tom. "It's a wonder those hors.e.m.e.n didn't discover me. I threw myself flat on the ground between the old corn-rows, and saw them quite distinctly. Mr. Hobson said he would wait here for me."

"And he has kept his word, although he began to think you were never coming back," replied a voice from the darkness. "Is this the friend who helped you last night? I can just make out that there are three of you."

If it had been daylight there is no telling how Rodney Gray would have pa.s.sed through the ordeal of shaking hands with a Union man who was suspected of being concerned in the "taking off" of some prominent secessionists in his settlement. It was a large, muscular hand that grasped his own, and Rodney knew that there was a big man behind it. He knew, too, that Mr. Hobson (that was the name by which the stranger was introduced) had no reason for supposing that he was anything but what Tom Percival represented him to be-a Union boy who had run away from home and come up North because his relatives were all secessionists and opposed to his Union principles. That was about the story Tom Percival had told Merrick, and it was reasonable to suppose that he had told Mr. Hobson and his fellow fugitives the same. Indeed he became sure of it a moment later, for Mr. Hobson said, while he continued to hold fast to Rodney's hand and shake it:

"So it seems that we Missourians are not the only ones who have to stand persecution because we believe in upholding the Stars and Stripes. I have heard something of your history from our young friend Percival, and a.s.sure you that I sympathize with you deeply. I want to compliment you on the courage and skill you showed in helping him escape from those guerrillas last night."

"It is hardly worth speaking of," answered Rodney, as soon as he could collect his wits. "Tom would have done the same for me."

"I am sure he would, but it was none the less a brave act on your part. Now let us go to camp. If I don't get back pretty soon my friends will wonder what has become of me. By the way, didn't I hear a body of men riding along the road going west, a short time since?"

Merrick replied that they were some of Thompson's men, who probably thought it safer to keep to the big road than it would be to attempt to capture half a dozen well-armed Union men in a dark swamp. Hobson and his party were not likely to be molested, but still Merrick thought it would be best for them to remain concealed a while longer, and depend upon him for their provisions and news. Merrick did not forget to tell of the three men who had stopped at his gate and asked to see him "on business."

"I reckon I might as well leave you boys here," he added, placing the bridle in Rodney's hand.

"And what shall Tom and I do in the morning?" inquired the latter. "We ought to make an early start, and do you think it would be safe for us to keep together?"

"Not by no means it wouldn't," replied Merrick, quickly. "Unless you can induce somebody in Mr. Hobson's party to give you a trade for that roan colt. You mustn't try to ride him to Springfield. You ought to get rid of him as soon as you can."

"Let's go to camp," repeated Mr. Hobson. "We can talk the matter over after we get there. And in the meantime, you boys had better make up your minds to stay with us until after Merrick brings us a breakfast. Perhaps he will know by that time whether or not it will be safe for you to continue your journey."