"Then you think the others are … prisoners?"
"Afraid so—yes. When was it you captured the train—Friday or Saturday?"
"Saturday, sir."
"Hm-m-m, I thought so. That was what the reports from the South said, but I couldn't be sure. And how was it you didn't take the train on Friday, as we planned? But, perhaps, you'd better tell me the story right from the beginning."
Once again, Tom started with his departure from Murfreesboro and told in detail of the movements of the raiders. The General listened intently, scratching down occasional notes; presently he arose and spread a map before them. Then, with their chairs close together, the General and the Private traced out the course of the raiders and the progress of the locomotive race up to the point where Andrews had given the order to abandon the engine and scatter.
"Hm-m-m, if he'd only stopped to fight—at the tunnel, say…." remarked the General.
"That's what we wanted to do," answered Tom, "but he wouldn't."
"Of course," said the General, "we have to remember that Andrews was not a soldier—he was a spy, and accustomed to another way of working. Too bad…. Luck was dead against you, I'm afraid."
The General leaned back again and looked at him narrowly as he told the story of his flight from the hotel and across the Tennessee. Tom continued:
"I would have been captured surely if it hadn't been for a certain person who took care of me, and gave me a horse. The whole countryside was getting up to search the woods for me. They were bringing the dogs out. Then I got the horse; we cut through the fields ahead of them. That's all. I raced until I tumbled into the arms of a Sentry."