"I know where there's all the powder you want," he said, and he told of the freight-car on the siding. Despite the broken truck it was brought down the grade to the station, and two barrels were unloaded.
"Why not blow up the bridge?" suggested Will to his grandfather in a whisper, which the Judge overheard.
"We may have to come to that," said the Judge, turning.
"We'll leave that to the last, though. Now we must throw up intrenchments, and mount our two field-pieces. What's in those crates?"
"Uniforms, by jingo!" said a man inside the car.
"Get them out," said the Judge; "our forces must be uniformed. Have those mounted scouts been sent out?" he added.
"Yes, sir," said the Mayor; "an hour ago."
In a short time the slope below Middleton presented a curious sight; four hundred men and boys dressed in new uniforms with shining brass buttons were digging a long trench that stretched from the railway track to a steep bluff on the east. The old iron guns were in a position to command the bridge and the further bank. The freight-car with over two tons of gunpowder on board was anchored firmly in the centre of the bridge.
One man was left at the bridge to fire the train of powder if the enemy advanced. About four o'clock a very respectable fortification had been made at the bottom of the hill, and the few guns were distributed along it. The little army paused to rest. The women and children had long ago been sent north across the hills. At half past four a man on horseback thundered across the bridge; he was closely followed by two others.
"The Rebs are coming!" they shouted. "Thousands of them."