“Very good, sir,” answered Ballard.
“I wouldn’t untie his hands,” continued the colonel, “but you have got your revolver in your hands and can easily stop him in case he runs for the woods.”
“Very good, sir,” replied Ballard. “Forward, march! Go off at one side of the road so as to be out of the way of the column.”
“Now, two of the men must make room for these boys,” said the colonel. “Forward!”
Dan and Cale were quickly provided with places to ride behind two of the cavalrymen, the adjutant shouted “Forward!” with all the strength of his lungs, and Leon stood at one side of the road and watched the men as they marched by. He had heard a good deal about Texas, and he finally came to the conclusion that all the soldiers were from that region. They were all long-haired, and many of them were unacquainted with combs, but there were some among them who were dressed like his cowboy, with handkerchiefs around their necks, broad tarpaulins on their heads and fine boots on their feet. A good many of them had a word to say to Ballard and his prisoner, and they were not of the kind that was calculated to encourage Leon. When Leon wasn’t looking Ballard raised his pistol and took a deliberate aim at his head—a proceeding that was welcomed by shouts from all the men who saw it.
“That’s the way; shoot him down!” shouted one of the soldiers. “There will be one less Yank for us left to fight, anyway.”
“Now, sonny, I guess all the men have passed,” said Ballard. “Take the middle of the road and travel ahead as if you were going for the doctor. Mobile is a long ways from here.”
Leon accordingly took to the road and plodded along at his best pace; but he was wearied, and his hands hurt him so that he was on the point of urging his captor to untie them for a little while, so that he could stretch his arms and get the kinks out of them. He walked along until he had got around the first bend, out of sight of the cavalrymen, and then Ballard, after looking all around and up and down the road, to make sure that there was nobody in sight, leaned forward and whispered to him:
“Say, sonny, go into the woods.”
Leon turned around and faced him. He had heard that was one way the Confederates had of getting rid of their prisoners, namely, to take them into the woods and “lose” them. They would shoot them down and leave them there. Leon couldn’t help himself if Ballard had decided to lose him, for his hands were tied.