The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1912-04-02
wore a high coonskin cap an

we uns are doggoned tired o sol
dierin'. an gittin' nuthin' fer It."
said In the slow Southern drawl, AN
wanter jine yer gang. pervidin' thar's
any show fer It."
How many are yer" asked one OF
the newcomers. striding forward be-
tween us and the sentry.
"A right smart heap o. bunch; bin
a pickin' o 'em up ever since we left
Charlotte" returned evasively.
reckon as how ye kin use 'em, can't
YEP"
Maybe; who did ye want ter seer"
Wal, they sed as how Teller
named Lowrie wus q runnin' this yere
gang, an If thet's Their way O. 1t, I
reckon as How it's Lowrie we're after.
BE you Lowrie?"
Nav"
The answer was SO gruff and short,
and the fellow hesitatod SO long in
adding anything to 1t, began to think
It was all off,
WAL" he consented to say at last,
ungraciously, thar's a blame pile O.
We kim In lately, an calculate we got
bout 'nough fer our business, but
reckon as how Red will use We some
whar Anyhow you uns kin come
long with me an find out, but yen
diskiver him bout ther ornerest man
list now ever We run up again. He's
plum mad. Red is. fer sartain."
He turned and strobe off, without so
much as giving us backward glance.
and, with hearty congratulatory kick
to the mule, l and my company fol-
lowed hHn. A hundred yards further
In we passed through the fringe of
trees and emerged into an open space
from whence we could see plainly the
great white house still illumined by
the flames which continued to con-
sumo the stables. Shots were fash
ing like fireflies out of the darkness
on every side OF us, the smell of burn
ing powder scented the air, and
could distinguish the black forms of
men lying prone on the grass in some
thing resembling a skirmish line.
MAXIM fight o. 1t, amt they?"
asked of our taciturn guide, as We
picked our way carefully among the
recumbent forms.
Damn 'em. yes, hell o. fight"
he admitted bitterly.
Just beyond musket-shot from the
house, and nearly opposite tho front
entrance, quite a group OF men were
standing beneath the black shadows of
a grove OF trees. In spite of the CLEAN
from the fire 1 could make little of
them, but as we approached from the
- h. %
claimed suddenly:
Who comes thar? What body O.
! men is thet?"
Its mother party O. deserters, as
wants ter jine u.s." said the guide
sourly. "They's Johnnies from Lees
army"
"Oh, they dew, dew they? Who's
Their boss O. this yere crowds"
I swung down from my seat on the
mules back. and stood facing him. as
he advanced.
1--WE uns hain't got no boss" an
swered, but they sorter fell in ahind
o me cause l wus astraddle o. this
muel Be you named Lowrie?"
II reckon; I'm Red Lowrie," proud
ly aspect, maybe, we've heerd tell
o me, an If We hev, ye know we've got
ter step damn lively whin howl
Whit wus ye in ther army?"
Corporal"
The flames of the burning barn
leaped suddenly upward, as II fed by
some fresh combustion, and flung
brighter glare over the rough faces
| clustered about US. / saw Red Low
RE plainly enough now as he peered
eagerly forward to scan my face, a
heavy-set, coarse-featured man, with
prominent nose, and thick, matted red
beard. He wore a wide-brimmed soft
army hat, under which his eyes shone
maliciously, and he grasped long
rife in one big, hairy hand. AS
| gazed at him curiously, some one
| hastily pushed a way through the
group at his back, and the next In.
slant n tall figure stood at his side. 1
recognized the newcomer at a single
| glance, and for the moment my heart
| fairly choked met was Craig.
"Lowrie," he said. pointing straight
at me, "thar's somethin' wrong yere.
That Teller thar is Captain Wayne, O.
my Oh reg ment.
/ All that occurred next was but the
/ impulse of a second. l stood with
hand resting lightly upon the mules
neck, his long head dropping sleepily
/ beside my shoulder. / saw Red Low.
| RE throw up his gun, all his evil ma
ture written In his face, his cruel eyes
Instantly aaame with anger, and, In
! spired by the desperation Of our case,
/ | stopped suddenly, and blew with all
my force into that long, pendant ear.
/ Beelzebub gave vent TO one snort OF
mingled rage and terror, and then let
/ drive, backing into that cluster OF
choice rascals like a very thunderbolt
/ or wrath, cleaving his way by every
/ lightning blow OF those nimble legs,
/ and tumbling men TO right and left.
There was a yell OF fright a wild
scramble for safety. a perfect volley
OF cursing-I saw Red Lowrie 20
tumbling backward. a heel planted
/ fairly In the pit Of his stomach. and
3 the next instant Craig, swearing like
a pirate, was damned down on top Of
him, red cash across his forehead.
II was all accomplished so speedily,
that it seemed but a medley Of heels,
Of wildly cavorting mule, Of scram-
bling, falling men.
"Firei" cried excitedly. Sock Il
into them, lads. and follow mel"