by John McElroy
Their battering-ram cleaned off the rest of those still pommelingShorty, and drove back those who were swarming in the door.
Shorty sprang up and gave a rib-breaking kick to the prostrate EphGlick.
The crowd inside at first recoiled at the sight of the soldiers, but,frightened for his own safety, Billings shouted, as he sheltered himselfbehind the altar:
"Don't give way, men. There's only a few o' them. Draw your revolversand shoot down the scum. Drive 'em away."
A score of shots were fired in obedience, but Si, making his voice ringabove the noise, called out:
"Stop that firing, or I'll kill every man in the house. If there'sanother shot fired we'll open on you and keep it up till you're everyone dead. Surrender at once!"
"Go at 'em with the bayonet, Si," yelled Shorty. "I'm goin' around toketch old Billings. He's in there, and'll try to sneak out the backway."
As Shorty ran around the corner he came face-to-face with a stalwartIrishman, one of the pluckiest of the squad brought from Jeffersonville.His face was drawn and white with fright, and he fumbled at his beads.
"O, Corpril," he said, with chattering teeth, "Oi've jist sane the verydivil himself, so Oi have. Oi started to run up t' the house whin theruction begun, when suddintly the ground opened up at me very fate, an'out kim a ghost, tin fate hoigh, wid oyes av foire, and brathing flames,an' he shtarted for me, an' oi--"
"What damned nonsense is this, O'Brien?" asked Shorty angrily. "Are youdrunk, or jest naturally addled? Come along with me and we'll--"
"Not for a thousand loives," groaned the Irishman. "Howly saints, fwhatis old Clootie after me for? Is it for atin' that little taste o' hamlast Friday? Holy Mary, save me; there he is again!"
"Where, you flannel-mouthed Mick?" asked Shorty savagely. "Where do yousee the devil?"
"There! There! That white thing. Don't you say it yersilf?" groaned theIrishman, dropping on his knees, and calling on all the saints.
"That white thing. That's only a sycamore stump, you superstitiousbog-trotter," said Shorty, with angry contempt, as he bent his eyes onthe white object. Then he added in the next breath:
"But blamed if that stump ain't walkin' off. Funny stump."
He gave a leap forward for closer investigation. At the crash of hisfootsteps the stump actually turned around and gave a sepulchral groan.Then, seeing that it was not a soldier pursuing, a very natural humanvoice proceeded from it.
"Is that you, Brother Welch? I thought at first it was a soldier. Imotioned you when the trouble first begun to follow me through theunderground passage. There was enough others there to make the fight,and it'd never do for us to be taken by the Lincolnites. We're toovaluable to the cause just now, and, then, if the Lincolnites get holdof me they'll certainly make me a martyr. Come right over this way. Wekin strike a path near here that'll take us right out."
"Great Jehosephat," said Shorty, "if it ain't old Billings, masqueradin'in his Sons o' Malty rig."
He made another leap or two, clapped his hand on Billings's shoulder,and shoved the muzzle of his revolver against the mask and demanded:
"Halt and surrender, you barrel-headed, splayfooted son of a sardine.Come along with me, or I'll blow that whole earthquake rig offen you."
Shorty marched his prisoner back to the house, and as he neared it sawby the light of a fire O'Brien, who had apparently recovered from hisfright, for he was having a lively bout with a large young fellow whowas trying to make his escape. It seemed an even thing for a minute ortwo, but the Irishman finally downed his antagonist by a heavy blow withhis massive fist.
"Here, O'Brien," said Shorty, "I've ketched your devil and brung himback to you. When a boss shies at anything the best way's to lead himsquare up to it and let him smell it. So I want you to take charge o'this prisoner and hold him safe till the scrimmage is over."
O'Brien looked at the figure with rage and disgust. He gave Billings asavage clout with his open hand, saying:
"Ye imp o' the divil--ye unblest scab of an odmahoun. Oi'll brake iverybone av yer body for goin' around by noights in thim wake-duds, scaringdaysint folks out av their siven sinses."
The fighting had been quite a severe tussle for the soldiers. There hadnot been much shooting, but a great deal of clubbing with gun-barrelsand sticks, which left a good many bloody heads and aching arms andshoulders. About half of those in the meeting had succeeded in gettingaway, but this still left some 75 prisoners in the hands of Lieut.Bigelow, and he was delighted with his success.
It was decided to hold all the prisoners in the lodge until morning, andtwo of the boys who had gotten pretty badly banged about the head weresent back to the railroad to relieve and assist the guard left there.
"I find about 10 or 15 birds in the flock," said the Deputy Provost,who was also Deputy Sheriff, when they looked over the prisoners in themorning, "that we have warrants and complaints for, for everything fromplain assault and battery to horse-stealing. It would save the militarymuch trouble and serve the ends of justice better if we could sendthem over to the County seat and put them in jail, where the civilauthorities could get a whack at them. I'd go there myself if I couldwalk, but this bullet in my shin disables me."
"I'd like to do it," answered Lieut. Bigelow, "but I haven't the guardto spare. So many of my men got disabled that I won't have more thanenough to guard the cars on the way back and keep these whelps fromjumping the train or being rescued by their friends when we stop at thestations. The news of this affair is all over the country by this time,and their friends will all be out."
"How fur is it to the County seat?" asked Shorty.
"About 15 miles," answered the Deputy Provost.
"Me and Si Klegg'll march 'em over there, and obligate ourselves not tolose a rooster of 'em," said Shorty.
"That'll be a pretty big contract," said the Lieutenant doubtfully.
"All right. We're big enough for it. We'll take every one of 'em in ifwe have to haul some of 'em feet foremost in a wagon."
"It'll be a great help in many ways," considered Lieut. Bigelow. "Thecrowd'll be looking for us at the stations and not think of theseothers. Those are two very solid men, and will do just what theypromise. I think I'll let them try it. It would be well for you to tellthose men that any monkey business with them will be unhealthy. They'dbetter trust to getting away from the grand jury than from them."
But as the Deputy Provost went over them more carefully he found morethat were "wanted" by the civil authorities, and presently had selected25 very evil-looking fellows, whose arrest would have been justified ongeneral appearances.
"Haint we bit off more'n we kin chaw. Shorty?" asked Si, as he lookedover the increasing gang. "Hadn't we better ask for some help?"
"Not a bit of it," answered Shorty, confidently. "That'll look likeweakenin' to the Lieutenant and the Provo. We kin manage this gang, orwe'll leave 'em dead in the brush."
"All right," assented Si, who had as little taste as his partner forseeming to weaken. "Here goes for a fight or a foot-race."
While the Deputy was making out a list of the men and writing a noteto the Sheriff, Shorty went through the gang and searched each man forarms. Then he took out his knife and carefully cut the suspender buttonsfrom every one of their pantaloons.
"Now we've got 'em, Si," he said gleefully, as he returned to hispartner's side, with his hand full of buttons. "They'll have to useboth hands to hold their britches on, so they kin neither run nor fight.They'll be as peaceable as lambs."
"Shorty," said Si, in tones of fervent admiration, "I wuz afeared thatcrack you got on your head softened your brains. But now I see it madeyou brighter'n ever. You'll be wearin' a General's stars before this waris over."
"Bob Ramsey was a-blowin' about knowin' how to handle men," answeredShorty. "I'm just goin' to bring him over here and show him this trickthat he never dreamed of."
After he had gloated over Sergeant Ramsey, Shorty got his men intothe road ready to start. Si placed himself in front of t
he squad anddeliberately loaded his musket in their sight. Shorty took his place inthe rear, and gave out:
"Now, you roosters, you see I've two revolvers, and I'm a dead shot witheither hand. I'm good for 12 of you at the first jump and my partner kin'tend to the rest. Now, if I see a man so much as make a motion towardthe side o' the road I'll drop him. Give the command. Sergeant Klegg."
"Forward--march!" ordered Si.
It was as Shorty predicted. The prisoners had entirely too muchsolicitude about their garments to think of anything else, and the marchwas made without incident. Late in the afternoon they reached the Countyseat, and marched directly for the public square, in which the jail wassituated. There were a few people on the streets, who gathered on thesidewalks to watch the queer procession. Shorty, with both hands on hisrevolvers, had his eyes fixed on the squad, apprehensive of an attemptto bolt and mix with the crowd. He looked neither to the right nor theleft, but was conscious that they were passing a corner on which stoodsome ladies. Then he heard a voice which set his heart to throbbing callout:
"Hello, Si Klegg! Si Klegg! Look this way. Where'd you come from?"
"Great Jehosephat! Maria!" said Shorty to himself. But he dared not takehis eyes a moment from the squad to look toward her.
