"On the same day that the battle of Shiloh was decided against us, there was another struggle settled a hundred miles nearer to us," said he. "That too went against us. Island No. 10, the stronghold that was to have kept the enemy from going down the Mississippi, has fallen, and the way is open to Memphis."
"But the Yankees will never get there," exclaimed Rodney. "When I came up the river on the Mollie Able, I heard a man say we had a fleet building there that would eventually take Cairo and St. Louis too."
"I certainly hope he was right, but things don't seem to point that way now," replied the captain.
"That is good news for us in one respect," Dick Graham remarked. "New Madrid must have fallen too, and if that is the case, we'll not be ordered there. It's too late. We'll stay in our own State."
The captain shook his head, and his men knew by the expression on his face that he had something yet to tell them.
"There's where you are wrong," said he. "We are going to Memphis as quick as we can get there, and from Memphis we shall go to Corinth to join the army under Beauregard. I am sorry you boys feel so about it, but I really don't see how you are going to help yourselves. Now brace up and do your duty like men, as you always have done it. I don't want to see any of you get into trouble, but you certainly will if you kick over the traces."
This last announcement was altogether too much for the men, who turned away in a body, muttering the heaviest kind of adjectives, "not loud but deep." When the two boys were left alone with the captain the latter inquired:
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen," growled Rodney.
"Well, you will have to stay in ninety days after your term expires.
Will that make you eighteen?"