The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1867-06-07

Don't you remember Judge Munsons son
who went to California;
What Sam Munson 2
That's my rame.
oh, yes, said Brock, turning to Davis,
now l remember him. Yes, [ know him
very well.
do you know his people there?' asked
Davis
Iknow his father, Judge Munson, very
WE'LL
Toombs stood up and said, THAT will do,
sir, that will do, and Brock walked out Of
the room
Toombs then drew chair close to Davis,
and they conversed in whisper for some
time, when the guard escorted me to my
quarters. / fanced that | had made some
progress at this interview.
The next morning brought Mr.. Brock to
my loft, evidently sent to satisfy himself
fully that | was Sam Munson. A delicate
and difficult task was before me, and the
result to my own mind very doubtful
Brock however, was laxative, willing to
carry on the conversation, and evidently
quite sure that he was not mistaken in his
man. [ knew something of the Munsons
and localities in Knoxville, and by the aid
of Imagination could fill any pauses In
Brooks conversation eight years of alb
sence excusing all failures IN memory.
Brock asked leading questions, taking, for
illustration, You know so-and so. oh,
yes, l responded though had not the re-
hottest knowledge of the person. Then
Brock would refer to something very ludl-
crous, and | would burst into laughter, as
though at the recollection. while Block,
greatly enjoying it, would unconsclously
tell me the whole story, so that l could put
in Fl ting remark here and there, which
seemed to come naturally from recollection.
Brock went away entirely satisfied, and
reported to jeff Davis. Two days later a
commissioned officer entered the room with
a parole, pledging myself not to leave the
city of Richmond without orders from the
Provost Marshal. l signed it and was re-
leased from confinement. With the freedom
of the city, | continued my observations.
Waikiki through the streets one Sunday
morning, by high board fence covered
with posters concerning regiments being
organized and other military announcement
from which [ cleaned additional intelligence
a man came in and slapped me on the
shoulder with
Halo, Baker What are you doing
here?
he name SOunucu htIduSSiy ulluCi VIC
circumstances. | was startled, but looking
around, calmy said;
I guess you are mistaken, sir My name
is Munson.'
Amt your name Baker ?
No, sir
'Didnt you go to California in 1861.
No, sir. / have lived in California, but
| didn't go there till So.
H. = hn Icf IN WI
me in 1850, when we had the fight with the
natives|
No, sir. I guess you have mistaken the
man
well I would have sworn that you were
Baker. Didn't you have brother there 7?
L had brother there, but he came home
in So
well, said he,' turning away, it's all
looked SO much alike in my life.
In the meantime, I had obtained infor-
nation of military movements and plans.
learned where the enemy had stationed
troops. or were building Notifications, and
what thew were doing at the Tredegar
works. L had obtained the knowledge for
which came, and was anxious to return
North.
Succeeding at last in obtaining a pa IS to
Frederick sburg, Baker attempted to travel
beyond that post, but had scarcely gone two
miles from the city when he met an officer
and soldier on horseback.
The officer reigned up before me, aud in
quired Have you got a pass, sir?
Yes, sir,
Let me see it,
: With the promptness Of assurance, |
drew forth and handed him the pass from
Richmond to Fredericksburg. If able to
read, | hoped he might be satisfied with a
glance at the paper, and let me proceed.
He studied it a while, till his eyes caught
the word ,Fredricksburg,' he then said ::
Il don't think this will do, Sir!
IT'S all right
well it may be, but you'll have to go
back with me, to Fredericksburg.
My locomotion had not been observed,
and, with pititul limp, remarked that it
was hard for lame man to be compelled
to walk that distance, and that if attempt
ed it, | must necessarily defer my journey
till another day. made painful effort to
walk, and so far moved the compassion of
the officer, that he offered to take the pass
to the commanding General, and leave me
in charge Of the soldier. When he was
gone, alleT lilllc piSdSdHU COuNOTsdtlUn,
the day being warm, | proposed to my
guard that we go into the shade of the
woods Tying his horse to q small tree, he
threw himself down on the grass Half an
hour was spent in pleasant chat, and the
officer did not make his appearance.
Ugh ! said the guard, stretching, How
sleepy am, [ didn't sleep wink last
night.
This fact, with the inviting greensward
and shade, disposed him to snatch nap
and soon he was oblivious to everything
around him. 1t was no pleasure to me to
subject him to punishment or even censure
on my account, but the law of self protec-
ton necessarily overruled my regard for the
unwatchful guard, and carefully appropri-
ating his revolver, I Embossed and mounted
his horse Riding leisurly along the path
a short time. turned suddenly into the
woods but the ground was rough, and the
bushes almost inpenetrable, making prog
ress distressingly slow. AS the sun was
sinking behind the trees, having travelled
half dozen miles, emerged into clear
ing, where white haired old man, who
evidently had reached his threescore years
and ten, was making shingles.
IN;.L = cre,oo.{,1 c,l,to+;on .na,,.oJ .