General Nelson's Scout 21

General Nelson's Scout 21

"Yes, sah; 'bout twenty went up de road not mo' than two hours ago. Den

a capin man, he cum to see Missy Alice most ebber day."

 

"Thank you," said Fred, as he rode away. "I think I will pay a visit to

Missy Alice myself."

 

Riding boldly up to the house, he dismounted. Before entering the house

he accosted an old negro who was working in the yard, and slipping a

dollar into his hand, said:

 

"Uncle, if you see any one coming either way, will you cry, 'Massa, your

horse is getting away?'"

 

"Trus' me fo' dat," said the old man, grinning from ear to ear. "I jess

make dat hoss jump, and den I yell, 'Massa, hoss gittin' way.'"

 

"That's it, uncle, you are all right," and Fred turned and went into the

house, where he introduced himself as a Mr. Sandford, from Lexington. He

had friends in Zollicoffer's army, and had run the gauntlet of the

Federal lines to visit them. Could they tell him how far it was to

General Zollicoffer's camp.

 

The ladies received him coldly, but told him the distance. But Fred was

not to be repulsed. He was a good talker, and he tried his best. He told

them the news of the outside world, and what the Yankees were doing, and

how they would soon be driven from the State. This at once endeared him

to the ladies, especially the younger, who was a most pronounced little

rebel. Miss Alice was a comely girl, somewhere between twenty and

twenty-five years of age, and by a little but well directed flattery

Fred completely won her confidence. She inquired after some

acquaintances in Lexington, and by a happy coincidence Fred knew them,

and the conversation became animated.

 

At length Fred remarked: "I hope it will not be long before General

Zollicoffer will advance. We are getting anxious up at Lexington; we

want to see the Yankees driven into the Ohio."

 

"You will not have to wait long," replied the girl. "Captain Conway

tells me they are about ready, and will advance on the 20th or 21st----"

she stopped suddenly, bit her lip, and looked scared.

 

In all probability she had told something that Captain Conway had told

her to keep secret. Fred did not appear to notice her confusion, and at

once said: "Conway, Conway, Captain Conway. Is it Captain P. C. Conway

of whom you speak?"

 

"Yes, sir," replied the girl, brightening up.

 

"Why, I know him, know him like a book; in fact, we are old

friends--special friends, I may say. He would rejoice to find me here,"

and then he added mentally, "and cut my throat."

 

"A brilliant soldier, and a brave one, is Captain Conway," continued

Fred, "and if he is given an opportunity to distinguish himself, it will

not be long before it will be Major or Colonel Conway."

 

This praise pleased Miss Alice greatly, and she informed Fred that he

would soon have the pleasure of meeting his friend; that she expected

him every moment.

 

Fred moved somewhat uneasily in his chair. He had no desire to meet

Captain Conway, and he was about to make an excuse of going out to see

how his horse was standing, when they were startled by the old negro

running toward the house and yelling at the top of his voice: "Massa,

massa, yo' hoss is gittin' away."

 

The sly old fellow had thrown a stone at Prince, and the horse was

rearing and plunging.

 

Fred dashed out of the house; a party of horsemen was coming up the

road, in fact, was nearly to the house. It was but the work of a moment

for Fred to unhitch his horse and vault into the saddle, but the party

was now not more than fifty yards away. At the head rode Captain Conway.

They had noticed the horse hitched at the gate, and were coming at full

speed to try and surprise the owner. The moment Conway saw Fred he knew

him.

 

"Gods!" he cried, "Fred Shackelford, what luck!" and snatched a pistol

from the holster and fired. The ball whistled past Fred's head

harmlessly, and he turned in the saddle and returned the fire. It was

the first time he had ever shot at a man, and even in the heat of

excitement he experienced a queer sensation, a sinking of the heart, as

though he were committing a crime.

 

Fairly and squarely the ball from his revolver struck the horse of

Captain Conway in the forehead, and the animal fell dead, the rider

rolling in the dust.

 

Immediately all was excitement. His men stopped the pursuit, and,

dismounting, gathered around the captain, thinking he was killed.

 

But he sprang to his feet, shouting: "A hundred dollars to the one who

will take that young devil, dead or alive. Here, Corporal Smith, you

have a fleet horse, let me take him," and jumping into the saddle, he

was in pursuit, followed by all his men, except Corporal Smith, who

stood in the road looking after them.

 

"What does it mean? What does it mean?" asked the two ladies, who stood

on the veranda, wringing their hands, and very much excited.

 

"Blamed if I know," answered the corporal. "The sight of that young chap

seemed to make the captain kinder crazy. The moment he caught sight of

him, he called him by name, and banged away at him."

 

"You say the captain called him by name?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Well, he said he knew the captain, and that he was one of his best

friends. I can't understand it."

 

The corporal had no explanation to offer, so went and took a look at the

captain's horse. "Bang up shot," he remarked. "Right between the eyes."

 

In the meantime the pursued and the pursuers had passed out of sight up

the road, enveloped in a cloud of dust.

 

"Remember, boys," shouted Conway, "a hundred dollars to the one who

brings him down. Don't attempt to take him alive. Shoot him! shoot him!"

 

But it was nothing but play for Fred to distance them, and he laughed to

think that they expected to catch him. But the laugh suddenly died on

his lips; he turned pale, and glanced hurriedly to the right and left. A

high rail fence ran on each side of the road. The scouting party of

which the negroes spoke was returning. Fred was between the two parties.

 

Captain Conway saw the other party, and shouted in triumph.

 

"Now, boys, we have him," and he spurred his horse forward, revolver in

hand. There was a look of malignant hatred on his face, and he muttered:

"Now, my boy, I will settle scores with you. I shall never take you back

to camp. 'Captured a spy, killed while trying to escape.' Ha! ha! how

will that sound!"

 

As for Fred, even in his extremity, his courage or his presence of mind

never deserted him. He felt that to be captured by Conway was death, for

had not the captain sworn to kill him on sight? His mind was made up; he

would wheel and charge the captain's party. He would at least die

fighting. Just as he was about to do this, he espied an opening in the

fence on the left. As quick as thought he dashed through it, thinking it

might afford a chance of escape. Too late he saw his mistake. The field

was a perfect cul-de-sac, bounded on all sides by a high rail fence, the

only opening the one he had come through.

 

Through this opening the enemy poured, and when they saw the trap which

Fred had entered, their shouts made the welkin ring. They were sure of

their prey. Their shouts rang in Fred's ears like the tolling of a

funeral bell. So must the bay of hounds sound in the ears of the hunted

quarry.

 

Fred looked at the fence ahead of him. It was built of heavy rails, and

full seven feet high. He rode straight for it. Bending over his horse's

neck, Fred said: "Prince, it is a question of life or death. Do your

best, old fellow; we can but fail."

 

The horse seemed to understand. He never faltered, never swerved. With

distended nostrils, eyes flashing with excitement, and every muscle

quivering, he gathered himself for the mighty spring. As lightly as a

bird he cleared the fence, staggered as he struck the ground on the

other side, then on again like the wind.

 

Fred turned in his saddle, and uttered a yell of defiance.

 

"Fire!" shrieked Conway. But the hands of his troopers were unsteady,

and the shots went wild. Before his men could dismount and throw down

the fence, Fred was beyond pursuit. Captain Conway fairly foamed at the

mouth. He raved and swore like a madman.

 

"It's no use swearing, Captain," said a grizzled lieutenant. "I thought

I knew something about horses, but that beat any leap I ever saw. Gad!

I would rather have the horse than the boy."

 

"Howly Virgin! it's the divil's own lape," said an Irishman in the

company, and he crossed himself.

 

The baffled troopers returned crestfallen and cross. Captain Conway was

so out of temper that even when the ladies asked him if his fall hurt

him, he answered angrily.

 

"Captain," said Alice, somewhat ruffled by his manner, "what is it

between that boy and you? He said he knew you, was in fact a dear friend

of yours, but you no sooner saw him than you shot at him; and Corporal

Smith says you called him by name, so you did know him."

 

"Alice," replied the captain, "I do not intend to be rude, but I am all

put out. That boy is a spy, a mean, sneaking spy. He should be hanged. It was he that discovered our plot at Lexington."