“Well, I guess they can take General Lowery’s compliments back to him and say we didn’t come out here to surrender,[surrender,]” said Mr. Knight.
“I want to see—are you the President?” asked one of the rebels, opening his eyes in surprise.
“I have that honor,” replied Mr. Knight.
The rebels looked at him in profound astonishment. If any of the other men standing around had said that he was the President of the Jones-County Confederacy, they might have believed it; but for this man, who stood there with his coat off, his hands in his pockets and his hat perched on the back of his head—for him to say that he was the head and front of that rebellion, was almost too much. The rebels looked at him, and then they looked at the men standing around. There didn’t seem to be but a few of them, and perhaps it was not going to be much to whip them, after all.
“General Lowery wants you to surrender at once,” said the rebel, who had grown bolder since he looked around.
“You have my answer, sir,” said Mr. Knight.
“If you surrender, we will let the privates off if they will enlist in the army,” said the colonel, for Leon made out that that was his rank. “But the chief men of the party will have to go under arrest and be tried for treason.”
“That’s very kind of General Lowery, but somehow we are not ready to be tried yet. We won’t surrender.”
“Why, my goodness, my friend, there won’t be a living man of you left by this time to-morrow. How many men have you got here, anyway?”
“About five thousand.”