The Portland daily press., 1892-05-07

Adams, and that the people must be
warned. Indeed, he had heard the con-
spring of those desperate and irrespon-
sible men, who in 1864, under no author
ity from Richmond or any government,
planned to sweep down from Canada,
surprise the village of st. Albans, VT.
and rob it's banks.
The boy crept noiselessly back to bed,
but it was long before he slept. When
he did, the flag, the officer. the conspir-
ators and the fated banks pushed their
benign and hateful influences into his
dreams.
All the next morning Pierre was busy
helping the thrashers. Jean would have
kept him at work during the afternoon
as well, but at 4 o'clock the boy con-
trived to escape from the barn. Slip
ping away to the house he got his flag
from the loft where he had left it.
He tried to think of some way of warn
ing st. Adams before the men whe were
to leave at could reach there. Lame
as he was, it was impossible to walk the
fifteen miles in time. Bourdo, he knew,
would take the young brown mare, their
only horse. Even now he was grooming
her in the stable. Pierre was almost in
despair, when he remembered that old
Jules, their neighbor, had horse. To
be sure it was old and somewhat stiff,
but it was better than nothing. He
would at once go to Jules and ask for
the horse. But moments were precious,
and there was no time for explanations.
He knew where the animal was pas
tured and must take it without asking
Soon he had caught the old gray, slipped
a bride over its head, and scorning
saddle was bestride his steed.
Plover F1erre did not know the coun,
try well, but he was sure of the general
direction in which st. Alhans lay. AS
he galloped along, Pierre grew excited
and was filed with joyous enthusiasm.
The small figure on the gaunt gray horse
was perhaps trayesty on his vision of
the cavalry officer dashing at the head
of his troops, but the boy was satisfied.
His mission was a responsible one, and
he was working for the cause in which
he burned to distinguish himself.
He had pushed the flag under his
jacket. Now he took it out, and tied it
about him like an officers sash. The
people at the few farmhouses along the
road stared at this apparition. After he
had travelled what seemed TO him q long
distance, he got into country where
there were no farmhouses. The land
was billy, rough and used for pasturage
alone.
Pierre had no watch, but he thought
it must be nearly O'Clock. This could
not be the main road to St. Adams. He
climbed high hills and looked about, but
he could see no village spires. While
watching from one of these hills he saw
far to the westward body of horsemen
cantering along smooth road.
Pierre's heart sank within him. These
were the raiders, and he was too late.
His opportunity had come, and he had
failed! Discouraged and limp in body,
he rode sadly down to the highway
where he had seen the horsemen, and
followed it back toward his home.
AS the raiders dashed through the
outskirts of ST. Albans the people stared
in establishment at the cavalcade of
wild looking men carrying carbines,
and with pistols stuck in their belts.
Jean Bourdo, dressed as an Indian chief,
all his duh wits sharpened by excite
ment, led them on.
They rode into the midst of the town.
The villagers, unconscious of danger,
did not modest them. Bourdo pointed
out the different banks; these had closed
for the day to the public, but the book
keepers were still at their desks. The
raiders overpowered them, broke open
the safes and took what money they
could hastily gather.
In half an hour they were galloping
away. firing their pistols as they went.
One citizen who appeared at his door
step was shot and killed. But most of
the bullets were fired high in the air.
They soon passed the last house, and
rapidly moved northward over the same
road which Pierre had taken on his re-
turn home.
Jules old horse was growing more
and more lame. II was unshod, and
this long journey had made its feet ten
der. Pierre did not like to urge it too
much, and SO had to be satisfied with
slow trot. The night would now have
been quite dark had not crescent moon
shed an uncertain light on the brown
fields and fingered about the bright silk
which hung from the shoulder of a
small boy perched on a tall, gray horse.
Dark patches of woodland bordered
the road, and when Pierre was passing
one of these, which he thought not far
from home, he heard a Gathering of
hoofs behind him. He did not expect
the raiders to return so soon, but he
thought it must be they. The boy
feared to let Bourdo see him.
A wood road led into the bushes, and
Pierre, riding into this dark recess,
halted some twenty yards from the road
to let the horsemen pass. His horse was
hidden by shadows: but the little moon
slid down between the evergreens and lit
up the gay colors Of the flag.
The raiders were riding recklessly,
singing and shouting. They were hilari-
GUS with success. Two young fellows