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  4

  _The Eleventh Ohio Cavalry_

  They had worked their way around the edge of the cornfield, and now theycould look out on a hard-surfaced road which must be the pike. Ridingalong that in good order were a company of men--thirty, Drew counted.And four of those had extra horses on leading reins. He also saw tencarbines ... and the owners of those were alert.

  "Stand where you are!" The slight man leading that skeleton troop postedahead. His shell jacket had the three yellow bars of a captain on itsstanding collar, and Drew saluted. This was the first group of fugitiveshe had seen who were more than frightened men running their horses andthemselves into exhaustion.

  "Rennie, Private, Quirk's Scouts," Drew reported himself.

  Kirby's salute was delivered with less snap but as promptly. "Kirby,Private, Gano's."

  "Captain William Campbell," the officer identified himself crisply. "Anymore of you?" He looked to Boyd and then at the cornfield beyond.

  "Barrett's a volunteer," Drew explained. This was no time to clarifyBoyd's exact status. "There're just the three of us."

  "You headin' somewheah special, Cap'n?" the Texan asked. "Or jus'travelin' for your continued health?"

  Campbell laughed. "You might call it that, Kirby. But if we sticktogether, I think all of us may stay healthy."

  Kirby turned his horse into the pike. "Sounds like a good argument tome, suh. You have any idea wheah at we are, or wheah we could beheadin'?"

  "Northwest is the best I can say. If we strike far enough to the west,we may be able to flank the troops spread out to keep us away from theriver. Best plan for now, anyway. And the more men we can pick up, thebetter."

  "Scattered some, ain't we?" Kirby assented. "You give the orders, Cap'n,suh. We ain't licked complete yet."

  There was a low growl arising from the company on the pike as theTexan's comment reached them. They might have run and gone on runningmost of that long day, but they were no longer running; they were movingin reasonable order and to some purpose, with a direction in view and aform of organization, no matter how patched together they were. Campbellspoke directly to Drew: "You know anything about this section of thecountry?"

  "Some, but it's been almost three years since I was here. I know nothin'about any Union garrison--"

  "Those we'll have to worry about as they come. But you ride advance forus now. Send in any stragglers you come across. The night is almosthere, and that's in our favor."

  So Drew and Kirby, with Boyd trailing, ranged ahead of the small troop.And pick up more stragglers they did--some twenty men in the last hourbefore twilight closed down.

  "I'm hungry," Boyd said, approaching Drew. "There're farms around. Whycan't we get something to eat?"

  "Here." Drew fumbled in the saddlebags he had transferred from Shawneeto this new mount back by the river. He handed over a piece of hardtack,flinty-surfaced and about as appetizing as a stone. "That's the bestyou'll get for a while."

  Boyd stared at it in dismay. "You can't eat a thing like this! It's apiece of rock." Indignantly he hurled it away.

  "You get down and pick that up! Now!"

  Boyd, flushed and hot-eyed, gazed at Drew for a long moment. The flushfaded and he moved uneasily in his saddle, but not out of the range ofDrew's attention. At length, unhappily, he dismounted and went to pickthe gray-white chunk out of a weed tangle. Holding it gingerly, he cameback to his horse.

  "If you don't want it--give!" Drew held out his hand.

  Boyd, realizing the other meant just what he said, fingered the hardtackand finally dropped it into that waiting palm.

  "You eat hard and you sleep on the soft side of a board--if you're luckyenough to find a board. You ride till your seat is blistered and untilyou can sleep in the saddle. You drink mud green with scum if that's allyou can find to drink, and you think it's mighty fine drinkin', too.This ain't--" Drew's thoughts flitted back to his meeting with AuntMarianna on the Lexington road--"all saber wavin' and chargin' the enemyand playin' hero to the home folks; this is sweatin' and dirt on you andyour clothes, goin' mighty hungry, and cold and wet--when it's theseason for goin' cold and wet. It's takin' a lot of the bad, with notmuch good. And if you don't cut off home now, you'll ride our way,keepin' your mouth shut and doin' as you're told!"

  Boyd swallowed visibly. "All right." But there was a firmness in thatshort answer which surprised Drew. The other sounded as if he meant it,as if he were swearing the oath of allegiance to the regiment. But_could_ he take it? A few days on the run, and Boyd would probably quit.Maybe if they got into some town and the Yankees didn't smoke them outright away, Drew could send a telegram and Boyd would be collected. Drewtried to console himself with that thought all the time another part ofhim was certain that Boyd intended to prove he could stick through allthe rigors Drew had just outlined for him.

  But in any event the boy's introduction to war was going to be asunromantic as anyone could want, short of being thrown cold anduntrained into a major battle. They must be prepared for a bad timeuntil they made it out of the Union lines and south again.

  The night closed down, dark and moonless, with a heaviness in the airwhich was oppressive. Campbell had to grant men and horses a breathingperiod. He put out pickets, leaving the rest of them to lie with theirmounts saddled and to hand. Drew loosened the girth, stripped off saddleand blanket, and wiped down the sweaty back of his new mount. But hedared not leave the gelding free. So, against all good practice, here-equipped the tired beast. No mount was going to be able to take thatkind of treatment for long. They had a half dozen spare horses, andundoubtedly they could "trade" worn-out mounts for fresh ones along theway. But such ceaseless use was cruel punishment, and no man wanted toinflict it. War was harder on horses than men. At least the men couldtake their chances and had a fraction of free will in the matter.

  Drew awoke at a tug of his sleeve, flailed out his arm, and struck home.Kirby laughed in the gray dawn.

  "Now that theah, kid, is no way to go 'round wakin' up a soldier. He maytake you for a blue belly as has come crawlin' into his dreams. It's allright, amigo--jus' time to git on the prowl again."

  Feeling as if he had been beaten, Drew slowly got to his feet. Men weremoving, falling into line. And one was arguing with Captain Campbell.

  "It could work, Cap'n," the trooper urged. "Ain't a lot of the boyswearin' Yankee truck they took outta the warehouses? Them what ain't canact like prisoners. Jus' say we're the Eleventh Ohio--they's stationednear Bardstown and it would seem right, them ridin' down to take themsome prisoners. The old man, he's got a rich farm and sets a powerfulgood table. Might even give us a right smart load of provisions into thebargain. It's worth a try, suh...."

  "Rennie!" So summoned, Drew reported to their new commander.

  "Know anything about a Thomas McKeever livin' in this section?"

  Drew's memory produced a picture of a round-faced, cheerful man wholiked to play chess and admired Lucilla's pickled watermelon rind to thepoint of begging a crock of it every time he visited Red Springs.

  "Yes, suh. He's Union--got two sons with Colonel Wolford. Owns a bigfarm and raises prime mules--"

  "You know him personally?"

  "Yes, suh. He's a friend of my grandfather; they used to visit back andforth a lot."

  "Then he'd know you." Campbell's fingernails rasped through the stubbleon his chin.

  "So Rennie heah could be one of our prisoners, suh. That theah mightconvince Mistuh McKeever we's what we say--" the trooper pressed hispoint.

  "Could be. It's gospel truth we ain't goin' to get far with our belliesflat on our backbones. And it might work. Now, all of you men,listen...." Campbell explained, gave orders, and put them through asmall drill. A dozen men without any Union uniform loot to distinguishthem were told to play the role of prisoners; the others exchanged anddrew out of saddlebags pieces of blue clothing to make their appearanceas the Eleventh Ohio.

  "They ain't gonna expect too much." The trooper who had first urged theplan was opt
imistic. "We can pass as close to militia----"

  "You hope!" Kirby was in the prisoner's section, and it was plain he didnot relish a role which meant that he had to strip himself of weapons."You--" he fixed his attention on the man to whom he must hand his Coltswhen the time came--"keep right 'longside, soldier. If I want to getthose six-guns, I want 'em fast an' I want 'em sure--not 'bout ten yardsaway wheah I can't git my hands on 'em!"

  Their gnawing hunger drove them all into agreeing to the masquerade.Drew could not recall his last really full meal. Just thinking aboutfood made a warm, sickish taste rise in his mouth. He brought out thehardtack which Boyd had so indignantly rejected the night before, andholding the chunk balanced on his saddle horn, rapped it smartly withthe butt of a revolver. It broke raggedly across, and then he was ableto crack it again between his fingers.

  "Here--" He held out a two-inch piece to Boyd, and this time there wasno refusal. The younger boy's cheek showed a swollen puff as he suckedaway at the fragment.

  Drew offered a bite to the Texan.

  "Right neighborly, amigo," Kirby observed. "'Bout this time, me, I'mready to exercise m' teeth on a stewed moccasin, Comanche at that, wereanybody to ask me to sit down an' reach for the pot."

  They rode on at a comfortable pace and for some reason met no othertravelers on the pike. Drew found his new mount had no easy shuffle likeShawnee's. The gelding was a black with three white feet and a proudlyheld head--might even be Denmark stock--but for some reason he didn'trelish moving in company. And, left without close enough supervisionfrom his rider, he tended either to trot ahead or loiter until he wasout of line. Drew was continually either reining him in or urging himon.

  "Kinda a raw one," Kirby commented critically. "He ain't norockin'-chair hoss, that's for sure. If I was you, I'd look round forsomethin' better to slap m' tree on--"

  Drew pulled rein for the tenth time, his exasperation growing. "I mightdo just that." Shawnee had been worth fifty of this temperamentalblooded hunter.

  "You take Tejano heah. He's a rough-coated ol' snorter--nothin' to makean hombre's eyes bug out--but he takes you way over yonder, an' then hebrings you back ... nothin' more you can ask."

  Drew agreed. "Lost my horse back at the river," he said briefly. "Thiswas a pickup--"

  "Tough luck!" Kirby was sincerely sympathetic. "Funny about you Kaintuckboys ... mostly you want a high-steppin' pacer with a chief's featherssproutin' outta his head. They has to have oats an' corn an' be treatedlike they was glass. I'd'ruther have me a range hoss. You can ride oneof 'em from Hell to breakfast--an' maybe a mile or two beyond--an' henever knows the difference. Work him hard all day, an' maybe the nextmornin' when you're set to fork leather again, he shows you a bellyfullof bedsprings an' you're unloaded for fair. A hoss like that has himwind an' power to burn--"

  "You raised horses before the war?"

  Kirby swallowed what must have been the last soggy crumb of hardtack."Well, we had a mind to try that. M'pa, he started him a spread downPecos way. He had him a good stud-quarter hoss--one of Steel Dust's git.Won two or three races, that stud did. Called him Kiowa. Pa made a dealwith a Mex mustanger; he got some prime stuff he caught in thePanhandle. One mare, I 'member--she was a natcherel pacer. Yeah, youmight say as how we was gittin' a start at a first-rate string. Me an'm' brothers, we was breakin' some right pretty colts..."

  His voice trailed into silence. Drew reined in the black again and askedanother question:

  "What happened ... the war?"

  "What happened? Well, you might say as how Comanches happened. Me, I wastrailin' 'long with this Mex mustanger to learn some of his tricks. WhenI came back, theah jus' warn't nothin'--nothin' a man wants to rememberafter. Someday I'm gonna hunt me Comanches. Gonna learn me some tricksin this heah war I can use in that business!" There was no change inhis expression. If anything, his drawl was a little softer and lazier,but the deadly promise in it reached Drew as clearly as if the other hadburst out with the Rebel Yell.

  "This is it!" Captain Campbell rode back along their line. It was alarger company; they had gathered in more fugitives this morning and hadno stragglers. All they lacked was adequate arms to present a ratherformidable source of trouble behind the Union lines. "We're goin' intothe McKeever place. You men--remember, you're prisoners!"

  Very reluctantly those in that unhappy role unbuckled gun belts, passingtheir side arms over to their "captors." There was a graveled drivebranching out of the pike to their right with a grove of trees archingover it, so they rode into a restful green twilight out of the punishingsun.

  Fields rippled lushly beyond that border of trees. There was acleanness, a contentment, a satisfaction about this place which was nopart of them or any men who passed so, armed, restless, tearing apartjust such peace as enfolded them here. They rode out of urgency when thegravel of that well-raked drive shifted under the hoofs of their mounts.

  "I'm sayin' one thing loud an' clear," Kirby announced to those in hisimmediate vicinity as they neared a big brick house. "I may be playin'prisoner to you boys, but I ain't settlin' for no prisoner's rations. Weall eat full plates in heah, let that be understood from the start."

  Campbell laughed. "Noted, Kirby. We'll see that you desperate Rebs getall that's comin' to you."

  "Now that, Cap'n, is jus' what I'm afraid of. We git all that's_comin'_--that sounds a right smart better!"

  "Company ahead, Cap'n!" The trooper who had suggested this action,indicated a man walking down the drive to meet their cavalcade.

  "That's Mr. McKeever." Drew identified their host for Campbell.

  But the captain was already moving ahead to meet the older man. Hetouched fingers to kepi--a neat blue kepi--in a smart salute.

  "Chivers, Captain, Eleventh Ohio, sir. We'd like to make our noon halthere if you'll grant permission."

  Thomas McKeever beamed. "No reason not, suh. Take your men over in theorchard, Captain. We can add a little something to your rations. Glad,always glad to entertain our boys." His attention wandered to the scoreof "prisoners" in the center of the troop.

  "Prisoners, Captain?"

  "Some of Morgan's horse thieves." Campbell glanced back at the shabbyexhibit. "You've heard the news, of course, sir? We smashed 'em properover at Cynthiana--"

  "You did? Now that's good hearin', Captain. It deserves a regularcelebration; it surely does. Morgan smashed! Was he taken too? Next timeI trust they'll put him in something stronger than that jail you Ohioboys had him in last time; he's a slippery one."

  "Haven't heard about that, sir. But his men are pretty well scattered.These aren't going to trouble any one for a while."

  McKeever nodded. "I've a stout barn you're welcome to use for atemporary lockup, Captain. Though I must say they don't display muchspirit, do they? Look pretty well beat."

  Drew rubbed his hand across his face, hoping the grime there--a mixtureof road dust, sweat, and powder blacking--was an effective disguise. Nouse recalling the old days for Mr. McKeever. Allowing his shoulders toslump dispiritedly as he was herded by his file guard, he rode sullenlyon to the orchard.

  They stripped their saddles and allowed the horses freedom for the firsttime in hours, an act which was against prudence but which McKeeverwould expect of Union troops. Drew lay full length under the curvinglimbs of an apple tree, his head pillowed on saddlebags.

  "Now I wonder"--Kirby dropped down, to sit with his back against thetree trunk--"why they always say a fella is dog-tired. A dog, he ain'tgot him much to do 'cept chase around on his own business.Soldier-tired--now that's another matter. How 'bout it, kid? You readyto ride right outta heah an' chase General Grant clean back to LakeErie?"

  Boyd had stretched out only a hand's length from Drew. There were darksmudges under his closed eyes, hardly to be told from the smears of dirton his round cheeks, but there. He rolled his head on a hammock of grassand scowled at Kirby.

  "General Grant can--" he added a remark which surprised Drew intoopening his eyes. Kirby shook his head reprovingly.


  "Now that ain't no way for a growin' boy to talk. An' it sits on yourtongue as easy as a fly on a mule's ear, too. What kinda company you binkeepin', kid? Rennie, this heah colt ain't got no reason to cram grammarinto a remark that way."

  Drew stretched, folded his arms under his head, and answered, in a voicehe tried to make as blighting as possible: "Thinks it makes him soundlike a man, probably. He's findin' out the army ain't quite what heexpected."

  "You shut up--!" Boyd might have added something to that, but Drew hadmoved. He leaned over the youngster, his hand hard and heavy on Boyd'sshoulder. And it was plain that, much as he wanted to, the other did notquite dare to move or shake off that grip.

  "I've had about enough," Drew said quietly. "The next town we hit you'regoin' to stay there, until someone comes from back home to collect you.Nobody knows you're with us, and you can go back to Oak Hill without anytrouble from Union troops."

  Boyd's eyes blazed. His mouth wasn't shaping a small boy's pout thistime; it was an ugly line tight against his teeth.

  "I ain't goin' home! I said you can't make me, 'less you tie me on ahorse and keep me tied all the way. And I don't think you can do that,Drew Rennie. I'd like to see you try it; I sure would!"

  "He's got you on a stand-off, I'd say," Kirby remarked. "My, ain't hethe tough one though, horns sticking up an' haired all over!Gentlemen--" he had glanced over their shoulder and was watchingwhatever was there--"company comin'. Mind your manners!"

  Drew looked around. His hand clamped tighter on Boyd, keeping him pinnedon his back. If he only had time ... but there was no way of disguisingthe younger boy. And Thomas McKeever, strolling with Captain Campbell,had already sighted them, stopped short, and now was moving swiftly intheir direction.

  "Boyd Barrett!"

  Drew had to release his hold and Boyd sat up, brushing bits of grassfrom his shirt sleeves even as he returned Mr. McKeever's stare withcomposure.

  "Yes, suh?" Boyd was on his feet now, making his manners with the speedof one harboring a guilty conscience.

  "What are you doing with this gang of cutthroats and banditti?" Mr.McKeever had an excellent voice to deliver such an inquiry; it couldrattle the unaware into confusion, and sometimes even into quickconfession, as he undoubtedly knew.

  "I'm with General Morgan, Mr. McKeever." Boyd did not appear tooruffled.

  "I refuse to believe that even that unprincipled ruffian is robbingcradles to fill up his ranks, depleted as they may be--"

  Boyd reddened. "General Morgan ain't no ... no unprincipled ruffian!"

  "Yeah," Kirby drawled. As the other two, he had risen to his feet on theapproach of the older man. "Them's pretty harsh words, suh. Cutthroatnow--I ain't never slit me a throat in all my born days. What about you,Rennie? You done any fancy work with a bowie lately?"

  Mr. McKeever favored the Texan with a passing frown; then his attentionsettled on Drew. "Rennie," he repeated, and then said the name againwith the emphasis of one making a court identification. "Drew Rennie!"

  "Yes, suh." As Boyd had done, Drew answered to the indictment of beingwhere he was and who he was.

  "I am most unhappy to see Alexander Mattock's grandson and MeredithBarrett's son in such company. Surely"--he turned to CaptainCampbell--"these boys are not your regular prisoners--"

  Campbell shook his head gravely. "Unfortunately, sir, they are indeedtroopers with Morgan. And, as such, they are subject to the rules of wargoverning prisoners--"

  "That does not prevent my seeing what I can do for both of you," theirhost said quickly. "At least, Boyd, you are young enough to be releasedby the authorities. Be sure I shall do all I can to bring that about."

  As Boyd opened his mouth to protest, Drew spoke quickly:

  "Thank you, suh. I know Cousin Merry will appreciate that."

  With a last assurance of his intention to help them, Mr. McKeever left.Boyd grinned.

  "He did help me," he observed. "He knows now I'm with Morgan, and nobodycan say that's not so!"

  Kirby laughed. "Reckon that's true, kid. You locked yourself right intothe corral along with the rest of us bad men. Look's like you've beenoutfought this time, Rennie."

  Drew threw himself back under the tree. So Boyd had won this round--theywere still in Kentucky and not too far from Oak Hill.