The stricken boy was suddenly aware that Army prisoners were filing into the yard. He shrank back in fear. The guards brought up their muskets, and the Army men found themselves held at the end of the yard. An uneasy silence was broken by the intermittent sobbing and wailing of the guard. Addison finally mumbled something to the sentries, and he and the boy left the yard by the wagon gate.
When the Navy prisoners had been taken back into the building a tall Confederate private sauntered toward the soldiers, his gray overcoat swinging at his knees. “Take your exercise,” he said gruffly. “Spread out and take your exercise.”
Red spoke up. “What happened outside?”
“Shut your mouth and mind your own affairs.”
The sentries stood along the fences and by the buildings. The guard was almost double now. The early morning shift was staying on duty in the yard.
The prisoners who had witnessed the shooting mingled with the others. Now one of them, a man named Frazer, began to explain. “Remember Jones? Well, he’s dead. Shot by the boy who went out with Addison. We’re washing the waste pails in the creek, and the guards are joking with us, and I notice that Jones is working his way downstream to a place near a thick grove of trees, making a big job of rinsing his pails....”
The tall Rebel private shouted from his place by the gate, “Break up that group. Spread out, or I’ll send you back inside.”
Tim pretended to drift away but he and Red stayed close enough to Frazer so that they could hear how Jones had been killed.
Frazer went on. “Suddenly Jones gets up and looks around, smiling at the guard in what he means to be a casual way, and points to a place in the creek. Then he says, ‘There’s a pretty stone.’ Well, the guards kind of notice, because Jones’s voice shakes and his face is pale. Suddenly Jones wheels and dashes among the trees toward the bridge that crosses the canal. Two of the guards are older men, but this young one dashes after Jones, quick as a rabbit, and drops him with one shot. Then he lets his rifle fall and runs and bends over Jones, quiet, while we all stand there like mutes. Then the boy starts to shake Jones and cry and carry on....”
Frazer kept talking, but Tim and Red had heard enough and they started their walk around the yard. “Did you know Jones?” asked Tim.