“Why, I don’t see anybody.”
“Of course you don’t; but if you bring your four thousand four hundred men up here—”
“Have you had spies out?” asked the rebel, more surprised than ever.
“We know how many men you have, and we know that we outnumber them,” said Mr. Knight.
“Then, of course, you won’t surrender if you have that number of men. Then we may as well go back.”
“I think it would be as well. We are bound to kill and capture some of the men you bring against us, and to-morrow we’ll send them inside of your lines with their paroles.”
“Yes? Well, their paroles won’t amount to a row of pins.”
“I think they will. If we capture any of the men without being exchanged we’ll hang them to the nearest tree. Good-morning, sir.”
It was right on the rebel’s tongue to tell Mr. Knight to look out or he would get hung himself, but he didn’t say it. After looking all around to make sure that there were no Union men in sight he wheeled his horse and rode off, accompanied by the pickets. No sooner were they out of sight around the first bend than the men began to pour out of their breastworks, and in five minutes more the hotel grounds in front of the porch were just black with an eager, excited crowd, all anxious to hear what the rebels had to say. Mr. Sprague took the part of spokesman, and when he told them what the Confederates had said about there not being one Union man left alive by this time to-morrow, the announcement was received with whoops and yells.
“Let them bring their men on!” shouted Bud McCoy. “We are all ready for them.”