“Did you hit him?”
“No, we didn’t hit him, but he was mighty ready to throw up his hands when he heard the bullets whistling.”
“Did you get their guns?”
“Yes, we got them all safe.”
“Now the best thing we can do,” said Mr. Sprague, turning about to face his men, “is to go down the road and conceal ourselves in the bushes. When you see me move my arm this way,” here he raised his arm above his head and waved it toward the right and left of the road, “you will all divide and go into the timber on different sides; and when you hear me whistle this way,” he put his hand to his mouth and gave a whistle that could have been heard a mile, “then you may know that it is time for you to get down to business. But bear one thing in mind: Don’t shoot unless you have to.”
The company, or, more properly speaking, the battalion, moved on again, and in half an hour not one of them was in sight. They had divided right and left, as Mr. Sprague had directed, and taken up their positions on opposite sides of the road, and there was not the least noise or confusion about it. Two of the men had gone down the road to see if the train was coming, and they were impatiently waiting their return. The prisoners had all been turned over to Mr. Sprague, and he was having something of a time with one of them, who was determined that he would not hold his tongue. He had a very shrill voice, and when he spoke in his ordinary tone it could be heard a long distance.
“Now, Sprague, I don’t see the sense in your doing this,” said the shrill-voiced man, and he seemed to have pitched his tones so loud that they could have heard him at the end of the line. “You take me away from my home, who never did the Union any harm—”
“You are a nice fellow, you are,” said one of the men who happened to be close around when the shrill-voiced person was talking. “I take notice of the fact that Ebenezer Hale wanted to come up here so as to be among Union men, and you heard his story, and when he was asleep that night you went off and got a lot of rebels to surround and carry him off. Where is he now? In jail, likely. And you, dog-gone you, you never did the Union men any harm! You had oughter go to jail until this trouble is all over.”
“Well, now, Simeon, I did just what I thought was best for the community. I didn’t have nothing against Ebenezer Hale, but I knew that if he went into this fight—”
“That’s enough,” said Mr. Sprague. “We have listened to you all we want to.”