A TRIP ON A RAFT
The talk of the three Confederates had filled the young major with interest. Evidently they had belonged to the troops just defeated, and they were now on their way to escape to the south of Rutherford Creek, as the main body on the retreat had gone.
But this was not all. A raft had been mentioned, also some cases of ammunition, and something had been spoken of that sounded as if it might have been meant for a field-piece. This looked as if the three Confederates intended to transfer some army property as well as themselves to a safer locality for men and goods.
It was too dark for either Deck or Life to make out the uniforms of the enemies, but they were inclined to believe that they belonged to some Southern battery which Wheeler had brought along, but which the Confederate commander had been unable to bring into use. It instantly crossed Deck's mind that it would be a big thing to bag the men, and even a bigger thing to seize the ammunition and the field-piece.
But now a difficulty arose—a difficulty which must be met and settled on the spot. One of the Confederates was coming toward them. What was to be done with the man?
Deck did not doubt but that Life and himself were more than a match for the half-starved upholder of a mistaken cause. They could easily compel him to surrender at the point of the pistol, or they might throw him down and gag him before he had any chance to make an outcry.
But would this be doing just the right thing, all circumstances considered? Might not the loss of one of their number frighten off the two others, and if the cases of ammunition and the field-piece were hidden away, could Life and himself find the things in that woods, filled as it was with rocks and brush? More than likely the articles had been hidden away with care, especially the boxes of ammunition.
To Deck's way of thinking, the only thing to do was to escape the observation of the fellow called Bolder, and then follow him up to where the army stores and the gun were hidden. After this it would be time enough to close in on the enemy, bring them to terms, and confiscate all they were in charge of that was of value.
Doubtless Captain Knox's thoughts were similar to those of Deck's, for as the Confederate artillerist advanced, he looked inquiringly at his companion, and uttered the monosyllable, "Well?"
"We must not be discovered," whispered the major. "Turn to the left. Easy, Ceph, easy!"