Chattanooga

COPYRIGHT. 1892, B AMERICAN (Rt55 ajsV ICONTINUED.l "The oM story," said Mark severely. "You men are doubtless from east Tennessee. You are deserters, trying to get back to vvhere yon carne from." IVlark had hit the nail on the head. The men looked terror stricken. He knew, when he ordered them to pull aeross the river, that tliey would obey him gladly. And if he should leave them to report to tlieir colonel, they would attempt to uiake their way üorth instead. "Get into the bout, every one of you." Every man got into the boat, and one of them took the oars. "Now if you will get me overquickly f '11 see what 1 can do for you with your commanding officer when I return." Jakey was standing on the bank with his eyes wide open at this scène. Mark had been a hero with him; now he was a little less than a god. "Do you want to get across the river, my little man?" asked Mark, as if he had never seen the boy before. "Does 1 want ter? Course I does." ■'.Jump m then, quick. I've no time to lose." Jakey came down and got in with the rest. "Give way." cried Mark, and the boat shot out froui the shore. Not a dozen strokes had been taken before Mark, who was deligbted at the success of his assurance, saw a sight that made his heart sink within him. A boat shot around Moccasin point from the eastward. God in heaven! lt was f uil of armed men. As soon as they saw the skiff with Alark and the deserters in it- for such they were- they pulled straight for them. In five minutes they were alon-side. "I reckon you're the men we're looking for," said an offieer seated in the stern. "Who are yon looking for?" asked Mark, vrith as tnuoh coolness as he could assume. "Deserters f rom the th Tennessee. " Mark knevv it was all up with him. His assumption of being on General Bragg's staff, which had been so successful a rnse, suddenly appeared to him a halter about his neck. "Hand over your guns," said the offieer. The guns were handed into the boat, all except Jakey's shotgun. "That other one too." "That's only a shotgun, captain," said Mark. "Well, never mind the popgun." Every moment the deserters looked for Alark to declare his exalted position on General Bragg'a staff, but no such declaration came. It seemed possible to them that perhaps he would not wish to disclose his identity to so niany. At any rate they aaid notbing, Ha fit not been for his MBUmption Mark would have applied to the captain to let a poorcountrynimi and his little brother pass. Had he done so it is juite possible that the men he had deceived, snrmising that he was a refngee liko themselvss,' would not have betrayed him; but Mark knew that besides thisdangertheofficers, having found him in such company, would not let him jo. JVLarks üeart was heavy as the buat in which he sat was pulled slowly against the current to Chattanooga. He realized that there was now no opportunity for his wits, on which he usually relied, to work. He was in the hands of theenemy; he would not be released without a thorough questioning, and he could say nothing that would not teil against him. ün landing all were taken to the provost marshal's office. The soldiers acknowledged that they were members of the th Tennessee regiment, but ly denied that they were deserters. They were Union men, some of the northerners who had been impressed into the Confedérate service, or had enlisted for the purpose of flying to the stars and stripes as soon as they could get near enonh to warrant an attempt. They were sent to their regiment under guard. As they were leaving one of them said to Mark: "1 hope you'll keep your promise." Mark did not reply; he had cherished a hope that they would be taken away before anything would come out as to his assuinption of authority. "What promise?" asked the provost marshal quickly. 'He's an officer on General Bragg's staif . ïou ought toknowhim, colonel. " "The devill" exclaimed the colonel. """■., i saw th,e men were doing somethiny they were ashamed of, and I bluffed 'em to row me across," said Mark witli assumed carelsssness. "Who are you?" "1 belong in east Tennessee." "You don't belong to any such place. YoiVre not southern born at all. You're a Ya i kee. I thought you were only tryiag to get north with these men; now 1 believe yon are a spy." "I'm a southeru man, sartén," said Mart, with auch coolness that the officer was for a moment ia doubt as to his surmise. "Let me hear you say New York." "New York." "New York,"repeated tho colonel ironlo'ly. "If you were a southern man y N wYawk. 1 shall have to for further information." uld like to go to my home in ■ ieisee. I carne here to buy a gun :;:■ brother. But if you won't let me I'll have to stay with you, I suppose. Only I hope you wou't separate us. Jakey's very young, and I don't want to turn him adrift alone in a Btrango town." "I shall have to hold you till 1 can report the case to headquarters," -aid the officer, and Mark and Jakey were led away to a room in the house occupied by the provost marshal for prisoners temporarily passing throngh his hands. The roply that came to the announcement of the capture of the citizen and the boy was to hold them under vigilant guard. It was reported that Mark had been personating an offieer of the staff, and this looked very suspicious; indeed quite enough so to warrant their trying him for a spy -by drumhead court martial and executing him the next morning. Mark was searched and everything of value taken from him. They went through Jakey's pockets and feit of the lining of his coat, but as he was a child the search was not very thorough, or they would have found the bilis in his boot. They took his gnn, but by this time Jakey realized that there was something more momentous than a squirrel gun at stake, and parted with it without showing any great reluctanoe. He realized that Mark, for whom he had by this time conceived a regard little short of idolatry, was in danger, and the boy for the first time began to feel that his friend oould not accomplish everything. Jakey stood looking on stolidly as Mark was searohed till he saw a soldier take Souri's red silk handkerchief. He had produced the impression on the searchers he had at first produced upon Mark - that he was stupid beyond his years. As the man grasped the handkerchief and was about to put it in his pocket Jakey set up a howl. "What's the matter, sonny?" asked one of the soldiers. "My hanchikuff." he whined. "Is it yours?" "Yas." "Give the boy his wipe,"said the man to the would be appropriator. "Don't rob a child." So Jakey preserved his handkerchief . Then they were marched away together to a small building used for a negro Jai!. It was two storiea high, though the lower story had no Windows. The upper part was reached by a long flight of steps outside the building. The lower part was a dungeon, and though used to confine negroes there had been a number of east Tennesseeans imprisoned there. The place was kept by an old man and hia wife named Triggs". Mark was put into a room in the upper story. A guard was stationed at the door, and the only window was barred. Had Mark been arrested with definite proof that he was a spy, he would doubtless have been put in the dungeon. As it was, he was only guarded with ordinarycaution. This, hovvever, seemed quite sufficient to prevent his escape. J akey was put into aroom by himself, but he was not required to stay there. He was suffered to go and come at will, except that the guard at the gate was ordered not to let him leave the yard. He asked the jailer's wife to permit him to go in to Mark so often the first morning of his arrival that at last the guard at the door was instructed to pass him in and out at will. "Well, Jakey," said Mark, when they were together in their new quarters, "this looks pretty blue." "Eeckon it does." "You'd better not stay here. Go out in the yard and 111 try to think up somo plan. But 1 must confess 1 don't seo any way out," and Mark rested his elbows on his knees, and putting his face in his hands thought upon his perilous situation. "Jest you don't worrit," said Jakey. "sumep'n'll turn up sho." "Well, go out into the sunlight. Don't stay hero. If they sentence me to hang I'll try to get them to send you home." CHAPTER X. THE RED SILK HANDKEHCHIEP. Greatness underlying an uninviting exterior is often called out by circumstances. President Lincoln would not have been the "great emancipator" luid he not been bom in the nick of time. General Graut would not have become prominent as a soldier had the civil war occurred bef ore or af ter he was of fit age to lead the Union anuies, and Jakey Slack- well, Jakey would not have developed his ability as a strategist had it not been for his friead, Mark Alalone, ana tne negro jan ai ooktwoM, Jakey was as incompetent to git down and think out a plan for his friend's escape as he was to demónstrate a proposition of Euclid. He could neither add columns of two figures nor spell words of one syllable; indeed he could neither read, w-rite nor cipher, the want of an ability to read or write being a great disadvantage to hirn in his present responsible position. But the desire to help his friend out of a bad fix having got into his braiij, from the nature of the case it simmered there, and then boiled a little. and simmered and boiled again. Like most people of genius. Jakey was uncouscious of his own powers, but there was one person in whom, next to Mark, he had great confidence; tha.-s was his sister Souri. Then came :he thought that if Souri were only ïhere "she mought do a heap." This lea jakey up to the problem how to get Ser there. The problem was too diffi:ult for his young brain to solve, so he ?ot no further until circumstances carne to his aid, or may he not have had the ?enns of reason witliin him to go further without being definitely conscious Df them? When he left Mark he went out into the jailyard and began to stroll about with his hands in his pockets. To a casual observer he was simply a boy with no playmates, who did not know whafc to do with hiniself . If any one had been near him he would have seen his little eyes continually watching f or some means of communication with the outside world. üccasionally he would wander near the fence, fh-st castin a sly glance at the jail. There were cracks between the boards, and Jakey was-looking out for a good wide crack to spy through. At last he foutid a place to suit him and hovered about it listening for a footstep, and occasionally getting a quick glance through the opening by putting his eye to it. But Jakey knew well thatif eaught at this he would be called into the jail and forced to stay there, so he preferred to rely on his sense of hearing rather than on his 6enso of sight. The jail was in an unfrequented place, and he, was not soon rewarded. A man went by, bu he was too far; then another man, but Jakey studied his face and let him go without stopping him. At last an oíd negro woman passed with a basket on her arm, smoking a short clay pipe. "Auntie!" called the boy. "Lo'd a inassy! Is de" angel ob de Lo'd speaken to his sarvent from de clouds?" said the old woman, starting and dropping her basket. "Auntie, hyar at the crack!" "Who is yo' callen? Yo' mus' be a chile from yo' voice." "Put yer eye close up to du fence and y' can see me at the crack." The woman drew near and put her eye to the crack. Jakey stood off a little way, and she could see him plainly. Aíeanwhile he pretended to have lost something on the ground. "Why bress my po' ole heart, honey, ef y' ain't nothen but a leetle boy in de jailyard. 'T'aught t' be nuff to keep dem po' misable po' white east Tennessans dar what dey had in de cellar widout keepen a chile." "My brother's a prisoner, 'n so air I," said Jakey iu a melancholy voice. "Climb ober de fence, honey, and run away." "The fence air too high, 'n 1 ain't a goen fur to leave my brother anyway. See hyar, aunty, air you niggers Union or secesh?" "Why, honey, do you t'ink we turn ag'in ou' own folks! Ain't de Yankee sojers comen down fur to gib us liberation?" "Ef y" c'd save a Union sojer froin hangen, w'd y' do it?" "Fo' de Lo'd I wouldl" "Then send this hanchikulï to Souri Black." "Who Souri Slack!" "She's my sister. She lives at Farmer Slack's." "Whar dat?" "On the Anderson road, close onter the Sequatchie river." While this conversation was going on Jakey coritinued his efïorts to find something at his feet. He picked up a stone, rolled in the handkerchief and threw them over the fence. "What good dat do?" asked the colored woman, picking np the missile of war. "When Souri gits it she'll know." "Will dat sabe de Union sojer's neck?" "Mebbe 't mought, 'n mebbe 't moughtn't." "1 cain't go myself- I'm too ole - bnt I'll start hit along. Reckon de darkies'll tote it." She picked up her basket and was moving away when Jakey called to her. "Auutie!" "What, honey?" "Yer mought git some un to tote hit ter an old nigger named Jefferson Randolph, ez lives np a creek 'bout five mile from hyar, near the pike runnen that a-way. Mebbe he'll pass hit on." 'Shonuff." "Yo' boy, thar!" The jailer's wife was standing in an open window regarding Jakey severely. "Come away from that ar fencel" Jakey skipped along toward her, doing a little waltzing as he went. "Ef that ar boy wasn't sich a chile, I'd think he'd b'en up to sumep'n." "What war yer a-doen by that ar fence?" she asked when he carne up. "Nuthen." "What war that y' throwed over!" "Oh, I war only throwen stones." "What yer throwen stones that a-way fur?" "Fur fun." "Well, y' just keep away frorn th' feuce er y' ghan't play in th' yard at all. Til shet y' up with thet big brother o" youru.'1 "Waal, I won'tgotharnoinore." And Jakey took a top out of Iris trousers pocket and begas plagging imaginary tops on the ground. Mark hoped that the preparationw the Confederates were making for tlie expected move would cause them to forget him. He was not destined to bo so fornnatp.. Tbe Recond day after his capfTO BKCOKTINÜKD]