The Irish standard., 1890-12-27


first gray dawn, my own lungs feeling
sore from sympathy with the painful
coughing l had heard all about me,
since the lights went out.
CHAPTER XII.
The prison was still so dim that fig
Gre could not be distinguished fifty feet
away, when file OF soldiers, with Black
George and Little Ross in the lead, en-
tered, each shouting out at the top OF
his voice:
''Turn out to roll call!
Howard insisted on my putting Oh the
overcoat, then he led me to the rooGn
beneath the Lower Chickamauga, along
which the prisoners, looking more bag
gard for their sleep, were forming four
deep. The men were counted and as
deception was easy with this form Of
'sroll CALL" Little Ross often had stem
Yankees more than there should be-
or "a half@lozen Yankees short" but the
counting was always kept up tia the
proper number was found.
Some time after this, all the prisoners
were driven every morning into the Up
per Potomac room and counted out ono
alta time, into the Upper Chickamauga.
At the southern ends Of all the rooms
there were sinks and spigots, but clean
liness was out of the question. The
room opening from Carey street and di-
rectly under the lower Chickamauga had
in i number Of old-fashioned kitchen
ranges and was known as s'the cook
room"
After we had wet our faces and hands
and dried them on a much soiled towel,
which thechaplain had left among other
effects, we went down to the stoves, and
as Howard had given me all ais bread
the night before, we would have gone
hungry till noon, had it not been for the
kindness of friends who shared with us
their little corn-hread and remaining
black beans.
About eleven o'clock corn bread.
beans and enough tough beef to give
few ounces to each man, were dis
tributed; during the nine weeks that
followed we did not receive any more
meat.
Still faithful to the promise had
made Carrie Brent and her brother, ]
took the first opportunity could find to
talk to Lieutenant Scott without being
overheard by the crowds about us. !
told him Franks story and asked for
his.
Howard Scott had never before been
bitter or profane in my presence, SO
that I was quite unprepared for the
vindictive wrath he showed on this oc-
casion.
s'Had captured Frank Brent, know
ing what I now do about him, I'd have
hung him to the first tree within REACH"
he Kissed.
sYou are Jealous of him because of
his devotion to Miss Vernon ! said;
'sbut you have nothing to fear there"
''No, Captain: am not jealous, but
am righteously indignant. Frank Brent
captured me in Powells Valley, and at
the time he said, so that he could not
have been guilty of John Harding's
murder This world will not be big
enough to hold him and me once this
war is over, that is, if he is not hung in
the mean time, as he deserves to be, or
if do not die in this hole"
On being pressed to give the reason for
his dislike, Howard continued:
':You know my cousin George Skill
man, who was with Brent? Well,
George was fine fellow, even if he was
in such company One day an old
scoundrel, named Mckee, who claimed
to be a Union man how / would like to
use halter on that fellow-came to us
with a letter purporting co have been
written by Cousin George, and saying
that he was lying helpless and wounded,
over in Powell's Valley. I showed the
letter to General Carter, and as the
enemy was not believed to be within
fifty miles Of the place, he told me to
take an ambulance, find my cousin, and
have him sent to our hospital at the Gap,
where he would be sure to get good care.
| started off, under the guidance Of old
Mckee, and, in reaching the valley
found myself in Frank Brent's hands.
Nv cousin had been dead for a month,
but Brent forged the letter SOFAS to trap
me. But the end is not yet" And
Howard SCOTS eyes flashed and he be-
gan biting his mustache
felt too much Inundated to tell my
friend of the part. I believed this same
old Mckee played in my capture; but l
did explain my own situation, and as
serted my belief that if Frank Brent
were hanged I should be treated in the
same way by the Confederate authors
ties.
They've condemned Sawyer and
Flynn to death, but the two mon are
here in Libby. Let them begin the re-
taliation, Captain Watts, and they'll
soon learn that that is game two can
play at"
'sBut what good will that do me after
am hanged?'' asked.
Howard put both arms around my
neck and whispered:
ssDon't lose heart, old fellow; IT they
don't hang you mighty soon I'll show
you the road out of Libby and lead you
on the trail to freedom!''
The more tried to get the Lieuten-
ant to explain the more mysterious he
became, till at length, to avoid my i'm
portunities, he called a stranger. intro
duced me and turned away.
This stranger was Colonel di Cesnola,
ssOf the Fourth New York Cavalry, q