The little man sprang into the air and came down with a whoop.
“The bloody devils!” he cried excitedly. “Ye bet I'll go.”
“Come, Sergeant, speak up; what do you men say?”
“I like not to fight mit der Yankees,” he admitted candidly, “but der vomens, py Chiminy, dot vos anoder ting. I vill go, Captain; mein Gott, yaw.”
“We 're with you, sir,” spoke voice after voice gravely around the dark circle, and then Sands added: “We'll show them thar Yanks how the Johnny Rebs kin fight, sir.”
Ten minutes later Glen, bearing his two messages to the Blue and Gray, was speeding recklessly through the black night northward, while my little squad was moving cautiously back over the road we had so lately traversed.
CHAPTER XXIX. — A MISSION FOR BEELZEBUB
AS we picked our way slowly forward through the gloom I gleaned from Caton all he knew regarding the situation before us. My own knowledge of the environments of the Minor house helped me greatly to appreciate the difficulties to be surmounted. He had succeeded in his escape by dodging among the negro cabins where the attacking line appeared weakest, but expressed the conviction that even this slight gap would be securely closed long before we reached there.