The National tribune., 1900-08-16

L OE Err THIS WAY. SAID SHORTY
Of his mouth, and started to put them into
his tobacco pouch.
''-Throw 'em away: you won't have no
further use for EN-" said 81, making 4
motion TO knock them out of his hand
I'm goin' to bust this old yaH-gcr Of
yours so that it'll be good for nothing but
! to make horseshoe nails out of. l at first
thought I'd take it home and give it to
pap, but he's got enough old blunderbusses
around the house now"
Them bullets is Almost all solid sill
YER" walled the man, lingering them care
fully. lie me keep 'em. | missed that
witch, and could only be hit by silver
bullet. So l got all the silver l could lay
my hands on, and made three silver bui
let's. One on 'em is in the gun. | WAS
dead sho' ter git away with the injine
this time. l s'pose I'm yo' meat, and |
don't know what yo're gwine ter do with
me. l wish, though, you'd let me go
Guess your ole woman'll have to do
without the pleasure of bidding you good
by" said 81. I'VE haven't time for lit
tie ceremonies of that kind. Our train Is
waiting for US. Come along, and thank
your stars we didn't shoot you on sight,
as you've probably done some Yankee
81 stepped out into view of the engi-
neer, fired the old rife into the air as
signal Of victory, to which the engineer
replied with short, sharp toots on the
whistle.
While Shorty was leading the man
down the hill to the railroad, ST bent the
rife over a rock, and then beat the lock
out Of all possibility of being repaired for
another gun, and joined his partner at the
locomotive.
80 they got you, did they. you old
Poll-Eyil?" snid the engineer. savagely, as
Shorty marched up with his prisoner.
I've notion to jump down there and
pound the punl,in-head often you for the
way you've scratched and SCARED up my
engine with your internal pot-shots."
I'D got you to-day, too, if they hadn't
interfered," the man answered, confident
ly. I'd got something ter beat yer con
jure. I'd a put silver bullet plumb
breathes and killed her deader'n wedge"
Come, hop into the car, there" sail
81. We've no time to waste. Youth
have time to talk this over while you're
boarding at Camp Morton; that is, if the
Fool Killer don't hear about you, and get
in his work.
The train rushed on through the coun-
try, filed with memories to the toys of
the Stone River and TullahOma cam
paigns, and reached Nashville Il little after
dark. The Provost-Sergeant was on hand
when the train stopped, received the
Vaughn's Brigade men at once, and gave
81 receipt for them. But he demurred
to the bushkhacker.
II hain't anything to do with any but
regular rebel soldiers. Civilians don't be-
long to me. Whatd you bring him in for,
anyway You caught him in the act, and
had the drop on him. You had the dead
wood on him. Why didn't you finish him?
whackers now. They hain't no right to
live. We don't want 'em numbering up
the prisons, and won't have 'em. The
rebels won't exchange 'em. Hain't got
room enough here for the regular rebels.
We're catching SO many Of 'em now that
they can't build barracks enough up North
to house ''em. It'll take the whole army
to guard 'em presently"
But what're we to do with this man."
inquired 81.
"That's your business. I'd recommend
that you take him out on the commons
somewhere and shoot him. That'll be the
least trouble for everybody"
Hand him over to me-" said the engi-
neer. ''I'll give him a good larruplng Tor
soaring up my engine and let him CO."
Not on your throttle-yalve, you won't"
said the Provost Sergeant. We've got
too many of them rebel scalawags running
around loose in the city now. If You let
him loose he'll be setting fire to something
or carrying information to the guerrillas
or running stuff out to them. You take
him up to the Proyost-Marshafs office.
make your statement as to what he's been
up to, and get orders what to do with
him"
Great Scott" groaned 81, that means
staying here l don't know how long. to
tend his trial, and it'll be taken off our
leave. Why didn't We drop him in the
act?'
Great Jehosephat," echoed Shorty.
Here, you old yallerhammer, is 4 chance
for your life. Make your escape. Eun as
them old bOwlegs o your'n never run be-
FORE
But there was something in the way in
which Shorty took hold of his gun that de- |
tered the bushwhacker from moving lie |
game played on Yankee prisoners He |
stood still, his eyes bulged out in terror |
his face was an ashy white, and he was
wiping off with the tail of his coat tue |
sweat that poured out at every pore.
III report at headquarters that
you have a bushwhacker in charge. See |
that you account for him in some way" |!
said the Provost-Sergeant as he moved |
off. You'll find the Provost -AIarshal> |
Office down that street; about 10 blocks |
and two blocks to your left"
We'll, l expect we've got to take this |
galoot down to the Proves" said 81. re
sgnedly. Don't seem TO be no Other |
way. Come along, you old pennyroy.ii |
bull, you. You're more trouble than you, |
fat neck's worth. Why didn't yen go int
the regler rebel army, and be, halfway
dCcenty'
Il alters had the rheumatic SO when tt
conscripter come round that he wouldn'. |
take me" He chGckled a little. for hc
was glad OF the temporary respite from
immediate death.
At the proycst-Alarshars Office they ]