"I went out there to see General Neely and Doctor Coleman, and the Adamses, and several others that I am acquainted with, and when I got in there the Yankees would not let me out when I wanted them to, and I had to remain there several days."
"Did you get a pass from the Yank's to get out with?"
"Yes, sir; but it only passed me out, and was retained by the pickets."
"Have you got any fire-arms or papers with you?"
"No, sir; I had a nice navy revolver that I carried to Bolivar, but I was obliged to leave it with an acquaintance when I left, to keep the Yankees from taking it away from me."
"Well, sir, you may consider yourself my prisoner, and after dinner we'll go down to Cold Water and see what they can do for you there."
"Gentlemen," said I, "I am no Yankee soldier. I am a citizen, and I can't see what object you can have in taking me there."
"It don't matter whether you do or not. I think that they will have some use for you."
Dinner was then announced as ready, and we all sat up. "I think that they will have some use for you!" reverberated through my brain, and set me into a train of thought any thing but agreeable, I'm to be a conscript then! thought I. I tried to suppress my feelings, and feigned to be cheerful, as if nothing had occurred to disturb my equanimity. In fact, my only hope was in appearing cheerful.
When dinner was over, the two men had their horses brought out, and we all three mounted and started for Cold Water, forty miles distant. On the way I kept up a cheerful conversation, and on several occasions I had my butternut friends convulsed with laughter. I found out that the man who had made me a prisoner was Captain Daniels, a noted guerrilla, and the other person was a Quartermaster.