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The Young Lieutenant Part 24

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"Lieutenant Somers? G.o.d be praised!" replied Hapgood, instantly recognizing his voice.

CHAPTER XVI

RETURN TO THE CAMP

The moment Somers was recognized, Hapgood and his party rushed forward, rightly judging, from the rapidity of his motions, that he was pursued.

The sharp eye of the veteran sergeant was the first to perceive the ferocious Mississippian, who, undaunted by the appearance of the Union soldiers, continued the pursuit as long as there was even a gleam of hope that he could overtake his intended victim. He was only a few paces behind the lieutenant when the latter was discovered.



Hapgood raised his musket and fired, just as the implacable pursuer abandoned the chase, and turned his steps back to the rebel line. He staggered for a few paces more, and fell just as a dozen other muskets were leveled at him. He appeared to have been hit in the leg; for he did not fall flat upon the ground, as he would if he had been struck in a vital part, but sank down to a sitting posture.

The Union men rushed up to him, and found that the supposition was correct; the ball had pa.s.sed through the fleshy part of his thigh, disabling, but not dangerously wounding him. The ruffian--we do not call him so because he was a rebel, but he was naturally and by education just what the term indicates--was as savage and implacable as before.

"Better leave me where I am, Yanks," said he; "'case, if I get well, I shall be the death of some of you. You kin shoot me through the head if you like."

"Don't consarn yourself about us, reb," replied Hapgood. "We'll take good care that you don't hurt yourself, or any one else, while you are in our hands."

"Mebbe you will, Yanks; but, just as sure as you was born, I'll hev the heart's blood of that younker as fotched Tom Myers down."

"Who's Tom Myers?" demanded the veteran.

"The man that you Yanks killed this forenoon."

"Whose heart's blood do you want?"

"That younker with the badge on his shoulder; the un I chased in."

"He didn't kill Tom Myers, or any other man."

"Show me the man, then," growled the rebel, now beginning to feel the pain of his wound.

"I'm your man. I brought Tom Myers down," replied Hapgood, anxious to remove any cause of peril from his _protege_.

"Did yer?"

"Sartin I did; saw him drop when I fired."

"Then, stranger, yer kin make up yer mind to die like a hog within ten days. I tell yer, Yank, there ain't bolts and bars enough in Yankee land to keep me away from yer. You kin shoot me if yer like now, and that's all the way yer kin save yerself."

"Well, reb, you are great at blowing; but I've seen a good many jest sich fellers as you be. I've fit with 'em, and fit agin' 'em; and I tell you, your uncle can take keer of just as many of you as can stand up between here and sundown. Put that in your hopper, reb; and the sooner you dry up, the sooner you'll come to your milk. We'll take keer on you like a Christian, though you ain't nothin' but a heathen. Here, boys, make a stretcher, and kerry him along. Take that jack-knife out of his hand fust, and keep one eye on him all the time."

Having thus delivered himself, Sergeant Hapgood hastened to the spot where Somers had seated himself on the ground to recover his wind and rest his weary limbs. The terrible excitement of the last hour seemed to fatigue him more than the previous labors of the whole day; and he was hardly in condition to march to the division headquarters, where he was to report the success of his mission.

"Oh, Tom--I mean Lieutenant Somers--I'm glad to see you!" exclaimed the veteran as he grasped both the hands of the young soldier.

"Thank you, uncle; I'm just as glad to see you as you can be to see me,"

replied Somers.

"You're all tuckered out, Somers."

"I had to run for some distance, with the odds against me; but I shall get rested in a little while."

The sergeant began to ask questions; and, as soon as he had recovered his breath, Somers gave him a brief sketch of his adventures, dwelling mainly on the last and most thrilling event of the day.

"I can hardly believe that I am alive and well after all that has happened," said he in conclusion. "That was the most bloodthirsty villain I ever encountered in the whole course of my life."

"If you say shoot him, leftenant, it shall be done quicker'n you can say Jack Roberson," added Hapgood, indignant at the conduct of the savage rebel.

"Of course, I don't say anything of that kind. It would be murder to do anything of that sort while he is our prisoner."

"He desarves hanging more'n Kyd the pirate did; and if I had my way, he'd swing afore sunrise to-morrow. He's a consarned heathen!"

"Never mind him; only keep him safe, and where he can't do any mischief; for he is wicked enough to kill the man that feeds him."

"I'm only sorry I didn't hit him a little higher up, where I hit the other feller this mornin'," added the veteran. "How do you feel now, leftenant?"

"I am improving. I shall be ready to go with you in a few moments more."

After sitting on the stump half an hour longer, he was in condition to march; but the danger was past, the tremendous excitement had subsided, and his muscles, which had been strained up to the highest tension, seemed to become soft and flaccid. The party pa.s.sed the Union pickets, and reached the headquarters of the division general, who had just finished his supper.

"Somers! by all that is great and good!" exclaimed the general, who probably never expected to see the scout again.

"I have come to make my report, sir," replied the lieutenant.

"You are all used up. You look as though you could hardly stand up."

"I am very tired, sir," added Somers languidly.

"Sit down, then. Here, Peter," he added, addressing his servant, "bring in a gla.s.s of whiskey for Lieutenant Somers."

"Thank you, general; I never drink anything stronger than coffee."

"But a little whiskey would do you good in your present condition; you need it."

"I thank you, general; I never drink whiskey, as I had occasion to say to a rebel general of division to-day."

"Eh? 'Pon my conscience! Were you asked to drink by a rebel major-general?"

demanded the officer, greatly surprised at the statement of the scout

"Not exactly, sir. About the first question he asked me was, how much whiskey I could drink without going by the board."

"Who was he? Bring coffee, Peter."

"General M----."

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