There was a hotel in the town, and its owner had recently, so Jack learned from a boy of about his age with whom he established friendly relations, given it the name of the Davis House, in honor of the President of the Southern Confederacy. Jack informed the soldiers of this discovery, and an examination of the front of the building showed that the former name of the hotel had been painted out to make a place for the new one.
Immediately a pot of white paint and one of black were procured, a rough staging was erected, the word “Davis” was painted out, and “Union” took its place. The proprietor protested, but his protest was of no use. He was told that the Union House would be much more popular than the Davis House could be by any possibility, and when they came around again they expected to find the new name retained. The proprietor said his neighbors would burn the building over his head if he allowed it to remain as it was, and as soon as the regiment had gone he set about changing the obnoxious appellation. But he showed some worldly wisdom in giving it a new name altogether instead of restoring what might have brought him into trouble with future visitors of the kind he had just had. He avoided both “Davis” and “Union,” and called the establishment the “Missouri Hotel,” a name at which neither side could take offense.
The boy who told Jack about the hotel also informed him where a rebel flag was concealed. It had been made by several young women whose sympathies were with the southern cause, and was intended for presentation to the captain of a company which would soon leave the county to fight on the southern side.
Jack hastened to Captain Herron, one of the officers of the regiment, and told what he had heard. The captain sent a detail of soldiers, under the guidance of Jack, who led the way to the house of one of the principal inhabitants of the place.
The sergeant in command of the squad of soldiers rapped at the door, which was opened by a servant. He asked for the lady of the house, and very soon a comely matron of forty or more stood before him.
“We beg your pardon for disturbing you,” said the sergeant; “but we want a rebel flag that we are told has been made here recently.”
“You shan't come into my house,” was the angry reply; “and we've no flag for you Yankees.”
She was about to close the door in the sergeant's face, but the latter stopped her from so doing by stepping forward and holding it open. Then he ordered his men to follow him, which they did, accompanied by Jack.
“Be kind enough to show us through the house,” said the sergeant; “we don't want to trouble you, but we must have that flag.”
“If you are after a flag you won't find any,” she answered; “and as for showing a lot of Yankees through the house, I won't.”