CHAPTER XII.
The gibes of Lucy Ann, and the occasional little thrusts of Hugh aboutthe "deserter business," continued and kept the boys stirred up. Atlength they could stand it no longer. It was decided between them thatthey must retrieve their reputations by capturing a real deserter andturning him over to the conscript-officer whose office was at thedepot.
Accordingly, one Saturday they started out on an expedition, theobject of which was to capture a deserter though they should die inthe attempt.
The conscript-guard had been unusually active lately, and it was saidthat several deserters had been caught.
The boys turned in at their old road, and made their way intoHoletown. Their guns were loaded with large slugs, and they felt theardor of battle thrill them as they marched along down the narrowroadway. They were trudging on when they were hailed by name frombehind. Turning, they saw their friend Tim Mills, coming along at thesame slouching gait in which he always walked. His old single-barrelgun was thrown across his arm, and he looked a little rustier than onthe day he had shared their lunch. The boys held a little whisperedconversation, and decided on a treaty of friendship.
"Good-mornin'," he said, on coming up to them. "How's your ma?"
"Good-morning. She's right well."
"What y' all doin'? Huntin' d'serters agin?" he asked.
"Yes. Come on and help us catch them."
"No; I can't do that--exactly;--but I tell you what I _can_ do. I cantell you whar one is!"
The boys' faces glowed. "All right!"
"Let me see," he began, reflectively, chewing a stick. "Does y' allknow Billy Johnson?"
The boys did not know him.
"You _sure_ you don't know him? He's a tall, long fellow, 'bout fortyyears old, and breshes his hair mighty slick; got a big nose, and agap-tooth, and a mustache. He lives down in the lower neighborhood."
Even after this description the boys failed to recognize him.
"Well, he's the feller. I can tell you right whar he is, this minute.He did me a mean trick, an' I'm gwine to give him up. Come along."
"What did he do to you?" inquired the boys, as they followed him downthe road.
"Why--he--; but 't's no use to be rakin' it up agin. You know healways passes hisself off as one o' the conscrip'-guards,--that's hisdodge. Like as not, that's what he's gwine try and put off on y' allnow; but don't you let him fool you."
"We're not going to," said the boys.
"He rigs hisself up in a uniform--jes' like as not he stole it,too,--an' goes roun' foolin' people, meckin' out he's such a soldier.If he fools with me, I'm gwine to finish him!" Here Tim gripped hisgun fiercely.
The boys promised not to be fooled by the wily Johnson. All they askedwas to have him pointed out to them.
"Don't you let him put up any game on you 'bout bein' aconscrip'-guard hisself," continued their friend.
"No, indeed we won't. We are obliged to you for telling us."
"He ain't so very fur from here. He's mighty tecken up with JohnHall's gal, and is tryin' to meck out like he's Gen'l Lee hisself, an'she ain't got no mo' sense than to b'lieve him."
"Why, we heard, Mr. Mills, she was going to marry _you_."
"Oh, no, _I_ ain't a good enough soldier for her; she wants to marry_Gen'l Lee_."
The boys laughed at his dry tone.
As they walked along they consulted how the capture should be made.
"I tell you how to take him," said their companion. "He is a monstrouscoward, and all you got to do is jest to bring your guns down on him.I wouldn't shoot him--'nless he tried to run; but if he did that, whenhe got a little distance I'd pepper him about his legs. Make him giveup his sword and pistol and don't let him ride; 'cause if you do,he'll git away. Make him walk--the rascal!"
The boys promised to carry out these kindly suggestions.
They soon came in sight of the little house where Mills said thedeserter was. A soldier's horse was standing tied at the gate, with asword hung from the saddle. The owner, in full uniform, was sitting onthe porch.
"I can't go any furder," whispered their friend; "but that'shim--that's 'Gen'l Lee'--the triflin' scoundrel!--loafin' 'roun' here'sted o' goin' in the army! I b'lieve y' all is 'fraid to take him,"eyeing the boys suspiciously.
"No, we ain't; you'll see," said both boys, fired at the doubt.
"All right; I'm goin' to wait right here and watch you. Go ahead."
The boys looked at the guns to see if they were all right, and marchedup the road keeping their eyes on the enemy. It was agreed that Frankwas to do the talking and give the orders.
They said not a word until they reached the gate. They could see ayoung woman moving about in the house, setting a table. At the gatethey stopped, so as to prevent the man from getting to his horse.
The soldier eyed them curiously. "I wonder whose boys they is?" hesaid to himself. "They's certainly actin' comical! Playin' soldiers, Ireckon."
"Cock your gun--easy," said Frank, in a low tone, suiting his ownaction to the word.
Willy obeyed.
"Come out here, if you please," Frank called to the man. He could notkeep his voice from shaking a little, but the man rose and lounged outtoward them. His prompt compliance reassured them.
They stood, gripping their guns and watching him as he advanced.
"Come outside the gate!" He did as Frank said.
"What do you want?" he asked impatiently.
"You are our prisoner," said Frank, sternly, dropping down his gunwith the muzzle toward the captive, and giving a glance at Willy tosee that he was supported.
"Your _what_? What do you mean?"
"We arrest you as a deserter."
How proud Willy was of Frank!
"Go 'way from here; I ain't no deserter. I'm a-huntin' for deserters,myself," the man replied, laughing.
Frank smiled at Willy with a nod, as much as to say, "You see,--justwhat Tim told us!"
"Ain't your name Mr. Billy Johnson?"
"Yes; that's my name."
"You are the man we're looking for. March down that road. But don'trun,--if you do, we'll shoot you!"
As the boys seemed perfectly serious and the muzzles of both guns werepointing directly at him, the man began to think that they were inearnest. But he could hardly credit his senses. A suspicion flashedinto his mind.
"Look here, boys," he said, rather angrily, "I don't want any of yourfoolin' with me. I'm too old to play with children. If you all don'tgo 'long home and stop giving me impudence, I'll slap you over!" Hestarted angrily toward Frank. As he did so, Frank brought the gun tohis shoulder.
"Stand back!" he said, looking along the barrel, right into the man'seyes. "If you move a step, I'll blow your head off!"
The soldier's jaw fell. He stopped and threw up his arm before hiseyes.
"Hold on!" he called, "don't shoot! Boys, ain't you got better sense'n that?"
"March on down that road. Willy, you get the horse," said Frank,decidedly.
The soldier glanced over toward the house. The voice of the youngwoman was heard singing a war song in a high key.
"Ef Millindy sees me, I'm a goner," he reflected. "Jes' come down theroad a little piece, will you?" he asked, persuasively.
"No talking,--march!" ordered Frank.
He looked at each of the boys; the guns still kept their perilousdirection. The boys' eyes looked fiery to his surprised senses.
"Who is y' all?" he asked.
"We are two little Confederates! That's who we are," said Willy.
"Is any of your parents ever--ever been in a asylum?" he asked, ascalmly as he could.
"That's none of your business," said Captain Frank. "March on!"
The man cast a despairing glance toward the house, where "The years"were "creeping slowly by, Lorena," in a very high pitch,--and thenmoved on.
"I hope she ain't seen nothin'," he thought. "If I jest can git themguns away from 'em----"
Frank followed close behind him with his old gun held re
ady for need,and Willy untied the horse and led it. The bushes concealed them fromthe dwelling.
As soon as they were well out of sight of the house, Frank gave theorder:
"Halt!" They all halted.
"Willy, tie the horse." It was done.
"I wonder if those boys is thinkin' 'bout shootin' me?" thought thesoldier, turning and putting his hand on his pistol.
As he did so, Frank's gun came to his shoulder.
"Throw up your hands or you are a dead man." The hands went up.
"Willy, keep your gun on him, while I search him for any weapons."Willy cocked the old musket and brought it to bear on the prisoner.
"Little boy, don't handle that thing so reckless," the manexpostulated. "Ef that musket was to go off, it might kill me!"
"No talking," demanded Frank, going up to him. "Hold up your hands.Willy, shoot him if he moves."
Frank drew a long pistol from its holster with an air of business. Hesearched carefully, but there was no more.
The fellow gritted his teeth. "If she ever hears of _this_, Tim's gother certain," he groaned; "but she won't never hear."
At a turn in the road his heart sank within him; for just around thecurve they came upon Tim Mills sitting quietly on a stump. He lookedat them with a quizzical eye, but said not a word.
The prisoner's face was a study when he recognized his rival andenemy. As Mills did not move, his courage returned.
"Good mornin', Tim," he said, with great politeness.
The man on the stump said nothing; he only looked on with complacentenjoyment.
"Tim, is these two boys crazy?" he asked slowly.
"They're crazy 'bout shootin' deserters," replied Tim.
"Tim, tell 'em I ain't no deserter." His voice was full of entreaty.
"Well, if you ain't a d'serter, what you doin' outn the army?"
"You know----" began the fellow fiercely; but Tim shifted his longsingle-barrel lazily into his hand and looked the man straight in theeyes, and the prisoner stopped.
"Yes, I know," said Tim with a sudden spark in his eyes. "An' _you_know," he added after a pause, during which his face resumed its usuallistless look. "An' my edvice to you is to go 'long with them boys, ifyou don't want to git three loads of slugs in you. They _may_ put 'emin you anyway. They's sort of 'stracted 'bout d'serters, and I canswear to it." He touched his forehead expressively.
"March on!" said Frank.
FRANK AND WILLY CAPTURE A MEMBER OF THECONSCRIPT-GUARD.]
The prisoner, grinding his teeth, moved forward, followed by hisguards.
As the enemies parted each man sent the same ugly look after theother.
"It's all over! He's got her," groaned Johnson. As they passed out ofsight, Mills rose and sauntered somewhat briskly (for him) in thedirection of John Hall's.
They soon reached a little stream, not far from the depot where theprovost-guard was stationed. On its banks the man made his last stand;but his obstinacy brought a black muzzle close to his head with astern little face behind it, and he was fain to march straight throughthe water, as he was ordered.
Just as he was emerging on the other bank, with his boots full ofwater and his trousers dripping, closely followed by Frank brandishinga pistol, a small body of soldiers rode up. They were theconscript-guard. Johnson's look was despairing.
"Why, Billy, what in thunder----? Thought you were sick in bed!"
Another minute and the soldiers took in the situation by instinct--andJohnson's rage was drowned in the universal explosion of laughter.
The boys had captured a member of the conscript-guard.
In the midst of all, Frank and Willy, overwhelmed by their ridiculouserror, took to their heels as hard as they could, and the last soundsthat reached them were the roars of the soldiers as the scamperingboys disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Johnson went back, in a few days, to see John Hall's daughter; but theyoung lady declared she wouldn't marry any man who let two boys makehim wade through a creek; and a month or two later she married TimMills.
To all the gibes he heard on the subject of his capture, and they weremany, Johnson made but one reply:
"Them boys's had parents in a a--sylum, _sure_!"
Two Little Confederates Page 12
