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Updated: June 7, 2025
He had been kneeling down examining the imprints and when he arose the colonel asked: "What is it, Whitley?" "Men have passed here, sir, and, as they couldn't have been ours, they were the enemy. The tracks lead south on the slope, and they must have been going that way to join Slade's command." "Then you think, Sergeant, we should follow this trail?"
"I mean you, Mister. The boys has had ther' eye on ye fer sometime. We know yer huntin's all a blind, an' now Bill Davis he's come in. I aint right shor' myself er I'd a kep' mum an' he'pped 'em take ye." Whitley turned pale. "Do you mean that the people here think I'm a revenue agent looking for moonshiners?" "That's about hit, Mister, an' they'll be fer takin' ye out ter night shor'."
At dinner, which was the most appetizing meal I had sat down to in many a long day, Whitley told me more about himself, sparing me, as I made sure, the necessity of further talk about my own wretched experiences. He was Southern born and bred which accounted for the old negro serving man and Springville was his first parish north of the Ohio River.
Their tents and camp furniture having been lost they had suffered much from the chilly nights in the mountains, and after they had entered the desert, from the rays of the sun. Before they could reach the Mohave river Mr. Whitley became insane from thirst and hunger, and nothing but incessant watchfulness on the part of his wife could prevent him from doing injury to himself.
Come, lads, we shall dine with these good Yankee boys and we'll make them drink toasts of their own excellent coffee to the health and safety of our common country." The group returned to a little hollow, in which Sergeant Whitley and Shepard had built a fire, and where they were already frying strips of bacon and slices of ham over the coals. Shepard and Harry shook hands.
Yet if their enemy was hidden from them they also were hidden from him. All the conditions of an old Indian battle in darkness and ambush were reproduced, and Dick was deeply grateful that he had at his elbow two redoubtable champions like Whitley and Shepard. They were peculiarly fitted for such work as that which lay before them, and he was ready and willing to take advice from either.
A mile or two further and in the swish of the storm he heard hoofbeats again. Looking forth from the bushes he saw another line of horsemen, but now they were going in the direction of Pope's army. Dick recognized these figures. Shapeless as he might appear on his horse that was Colonel Winchester, and there were the broad shoulders of Sergeant Whitley and the figures of the others.
"Well," said Whitley, with an oath, "what do you want?" "I want you to take your hand out of your pocket first," flashed Dick; "that gun won't help you any tonight," and a heavy revolver in his own hand covered Whitley's heart. His request was granted instantly. "Now walk into the other room." They passed into the stock room, which was well lighted.
Him what fed me when I war' starvin', an' gimme his last nickel when he war' hungry hisself; an' yo' want me ter kill him." He drew a long shuddering breath. "Mister, yo' shor' made 'er bad mistake this time." "I'll fix it though," cried Whitley; and with an awful oath he leaped forward, the knife uplifted.
Though the next three days were full of hopes and despairings for me I shall pass over them lightly. Each day, though he did not tell me in detail what he was doing, I knew that Whitley was trying his best to find a place for me; and I knew, too, that he was meeting with no success.
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