"Perfectly sure; Prince never makes a mistake. Hark!"
The trampling of horses, and the jingling of sabers could plainly be heard, and soon a party of nine Confederate cavalrymen came riding by. They had no thought of danger, and were laughing and talking, thinking not that death lurked so near them.
"The old traitor lives right ahead," they heard one say.
"We will learn him to harbor East Tennessee bridge-burners," said the leader with a coarse laugh.
"Will it be hanging or shooting, Sergeant?" asked a third. "I hope it will be hanging. It's such fun to see a Lincolnite hanging by the neck and dancing on air. Never shoot a man if you can hang him, is my motto."
Fred's men heard this conversation with lowering brows, and the muttered curses were deep if not loud, and five carbines were raised, but with a gesture Fred motioned them down. His men looked at him in astonishment, and there was disappointment on every face.
As soon as the Confederates were out of hearing, so it was safe to speak, one of the men said with a sigh:
"Capt'in,"—the soldiers always called Fred captain when they were out with him—"I would hev give five dollars for a shot. I would hev fetched that feller that loved to see hangin', sure."
"I have strict orders," replied Fred, "to avoid fighting when I am out on these scouting expeditions. It is the part of a good scout never to get into a fight except to avoid capture. A scout is sent out to get information, not to fight; a conflict defeats the very object he has in view."