At this there was a peal of laughter from the men, which seemed to be answered, the next instant, by a blinding fork of lightning, and then a fresh outburst of thunder. Andrews lifted up his hand warningly. He was very grave, as befitted a man on the verge of a mighty responsibility.
“Not so loud,” he protested. “You boys must impersonate Kentuckians who are trying to get down south to join the Confederate army. A great many fellows have gone from Kentucky to throw in their lot with the Confederacy, and if you are prudent you will have no trouble in making people believe you. If any of you fall under suspicion on the way, and are arrested, you can enlist in the Confederate army, and then escape from it at the first opportunity. The Southerners are glad to get all the recruits they can, suspicious or otherwise. But I hope you will all reach Marietta in safety. Pray be careful of one thing. If you meet me as we are traveling, don’t recognize me unless you are sure no one is watching us. At Marietta we will contrive to meet in the hotel near the railroad station, where I will tell you all that is to be done the next morning.”
“We have no money for the journey,” interposed a young volunteer. “Uncle Sam doesn’t pay us privates very large salaries, you know, Mr. Andrews.”
Andrews produced a large wallet from the inner pocket of his overcoat. It was fairly bulging with paper money.
“I’ve seen to that,” he explained. “Here’s a whole wad of Confederate currency which will pay your expenses through the Southern lines.” And with that he began to deal out the bills to the men, who hastily stowed away the money in their own pockets.
“Now, boys,” went on the leader, “I want you to divide yourselves into parties of three or four, so that you may travel in separate groups, and thus avoid the suspicion which might be aroused if you all went in a body. And remember! One party must have nothing to do with another.”
Thereupon, in the gloomy woods, the future spies formed themselves, as their inclinations directed, into six parties or detachments, four containing three men each, and two containing four. Andrews was to proceed southward alone, without an escort. Poor George Knight and Waggie appeared to be left out in the cold. George was burning to join the expedition. Even the rain which suddenly began to fall could not quench his ardor.
“Mr. Andrews,” he said, coming up close to the leader, and speaking in a whisper, “can’t I go to Marietta, too?”
Andrews peered at the boy in admiring surprise. “By Jove,” he answered, “you’re not afraid of danger, even if you are little more than a child. It’s bad enough for grown men to risk their lives—and bad enough for me to drag them into such a position,—without getting a plucky boy into the scrape also. No! Don’t ask me to do that.”
“But I won’t be in any more danger in the South than I am here,” pleaded George. “If I stay here I may be shot in battle, while if I go to Marietta I——”