"That would certainly be better than halting in the rain, Artie. It's settled, and I'm off," and using his spurs, Life Knox dashed away down the road to the right. A few seconds later, Artie took the road to the left, little dreaming of the adventure that was in store for him.
CHAPTER XIV
ARTIE IS MADE A PRISONER
Life Knox had been right; the road he had taken was the correct one, while that which Artie was pursuing was merely a side trail, joining the main road again about a half mile beyond. The side road led up to a plantation owned by Colonel Dick Bradner, one of the most zealous Confederates in the State of Tennessee.
Colonel Bradner was a military man, but he was not now in active service. In his younger days he had served in the Mexican War, and had gained, under General Taylor, a commission as first lieutenant in the volunteer army of that date. His military ardor had cost him his right arm and his left leg, and, being thus crippled, further service was out of the question.
Colonel Bradner had always been a fire eater, hot to the last degree; and if he had had his way, war between the North and the South would have broken out in '58 instead of '61. For a time he had drawn a pension from the government at Washington; but this was now cut off, and the loss made the military gentleman more bitter than ever, if such a thing were possible.
The plantation on the side road was one of good size. In days gone by it had flourished, and been a source of riches to the colonel and his wife, the only members of the household. The slaves had numbered sixty-five, all able-bodied, and all worth five hundred dollars each at the auction block in Memphis. Now all but six of the slaves had run away, the plantation was neglected, and what there had been of stores had been given to the Confederate forces, simply from the fact that, had they not been given up, friend or foe would have confiscated them as one of the necessities of the great conflict.
Unaware that he was wrong, and likewise unaware that he was "running his head into the lion's mouth," Artie galloped down the side trail, sending a shower of mud up against the trees as he passed them by. Not a soul was in sight, and it looked as if the neighborhood, for miles around, was deserted.