“You can count on me to the very last,” said Watson stoutly. He was always ready to face danger, but he liked to have the privilege of grumbling at times. In his heart, too, was a conviction that his leader was about to play a very desperate game. The chances were all against them.
“Thank you, Watson,” answered Andrews, gratefully. “I never could doubt your bravery. And are the rest of you willing?”
There were hearty murmurs of assent from Jenks, George and Macgreggor. Jenks and the boy were very sanguine; Macgreggor was rather skeptical as to future success, but he sternly resolved to banish all doubts from his mind.
“Well, George,” said Andrews, as he was about to leave the room, “if you get through this railroad ride in safety you will have something interesting to remember all your life.” In another moment he had gone. The time for action had almost arrived.
CHAPTER V
ON THE RAIL
At an early hour the next morning, just before daylight, the conspirators were standing on the platform of the Marietta station, awaiting the arrival of their train—the train which they hoped soon to call theirs in reality. They were all in civilian dress; even Walter Jenks had contrived to discard his uniform of a Confederate officer, regarding it as too conspicuous, and he was habited in an ill-fitting suit which made him look like an honest, industrious mechanic.
Andrews was pacing up and down with an anxious, resolute face. He realized that the success of the manœuvre which they were about to execute rested upon his own shoulders, but he had no idea of flinching. “Before night has come,” he was thinking confidently, “we shall be within the lines of General Mitchell, and soon all America will be ringing with the story of our dash.”