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Updated: May 2, 2025
"I'd like to push on," replied Tom. "What do you think, Wilson?" "Let's try to reach the railroad." "All right." Shadrack grunted his assent, and they trudged along the road, looking for an opening to the left. Presently a flash of lightning showed them a field. They climbed the fence and started across. Their feet sank in mud that seemed bottomless, and water oozed in over their shoe-tops.
The lion lay on the straw, stretched out full length, paying no attention to the crowd that passed his cage, and acting as though he wanted a hot whisky and his feet soaked in mustard water. When he was not looking I hid the package of snuff under the straw, and rattled the straw a little, and he opened his eyes and looked at me as much as to say: "You can't fool old Shadrack, for I am onto you."
"Follow me," Andrews answered. He touched his horse with his spurs. The animal was too tired to do more than quicken its step, but it carried Andrews ahead of them rapidly. "He didn't seem surprised," said Wilson. "He knew who we were when he saw us on the street, I think," answered Tom. "Good-by, warm food," wailed Shadrack, for they were passing the Widow Fry's.
Then he remembered his clothes, and he blushed. The formalities of introduction over, they turned to the dining-room, where two negro girls were already arranging breakfast. It was a feast: coffee, hot cakes, eggs ... everything that Shadrack in his wildest moments of hunger could have dreamt of. Mr.
"Almost threw me from the tender." "It bounced me five times between the walls of this car," answered Shadrack. The train came to a stop and the men streamed out through the back end of the car. Scott fairly shot up the telegraph pole. Once again the whistle of the pursuers sounded. "'Board," shouted Andrews. "Never mind about the track."
"Yep," answered Shadrack, "an' we're goin' to give 'em a good licking! That's what they need! We've seen all we want to see of Yanks." "Well, I'll tell you right now that you're going to waste yer time," replied the farmer. "An' maybe you'll waste more than that." Shadrack sat down on the floor near the fire, and Tom squatted beside him.
"So you were a-goin' to fight the Yanks, were you!" asked one of them. "We'll talk about that later," answered Tom. "'Pears to me that it ain't anything I'd want to talk about at any time if I was you," answered the other soldier. Tom, with his guards, was in the lead; then came Wilson, with Shadrack a few paces behind him. The Sergeant was with Shadrack.
The procession started again. Tom heard Wilson whisper to Shadrack: "Keep to the story!" "No talking, there!" ordered one of the horsemen. "You can do all your talking when you get to Judson." It was nearly six o'clock when they reached the little town of Judson. As they went down the main street, men and boys tagged along beside them, plying the guards with questions.
"Don't talk to me until I get through eating this hay." "Leave enough for us to sleep on," protested Wilson. "Smell this," said Tom. He opened the package of ham and bread. Shadrack moaned. Tom took out his knife and divided the food; then they had supper. "We ought to be out of this before daybreak," said Tom, throwing himself back on the hay. "I hope one of us wakes up.
Tom started back for the center of the car, found the side door and put his head out for a breath of clean air. Then he drew the door shut and made his way to the rear end again. That would keep the smoke from Shadrack as he climbed to the top of the car. Tom clung there, holding to the brake bar and the ladder, looking up. He saw Shadrack's legs disappear over the edge.
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