CHAPTER XIII. THE JEW SPY WRITES
SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE WITH A LONE, LORN WIDDER LADY."
"I WONDER what has become of our Jew spy, Shorty?" said Si, as he andShorty sat on the bank of Duck River and watched the rebel picketslounging under the beeches on the other side. "We hain't heard nothin'of him for more'n a month now."
"He's probably hung," answered Shorty. "He was entirely too smartto live long. A man can't go on always pokin' his finger into arattlesnake's jaw without gittin' it nipped sooner or later."
"I'm looking fur a man called Si Klegg," they heard behind them. Lookingaround they saw the tall, gaunt woman whom they had turned back fromentering the camp a few days before, under the belief that she wastrying to smuggle in whisky.
"What in the world can she want o' me?" thought Si; but he answered:
"That's my name. What'll you have?"
A flash of recognition filled at once her faded blue eyes. Withouttaking her pipe from between her yellow, snaggly teeth she delivereda volley of tobacco-juice at an unoffending morning-glory, and snappedout:
"O, y'r him, air ye? Y'r the dratted measly{180} sapsucker that bouncedme 'bout takin' likker inter camp. What bizniss wuz hit o' your'nwhether I tuk likker in or not? Jest wanted t' be smart, didn't ye? Jestwanted t' interfere with a lone, lorn widder lady makin' a honest livin'for herself and 10 children. My ole man ketched the black ager layin'out in the brush to dodge the conscripters. It went plumb to his heartan' killed him. He wa'n't no great loss, nohow, fur he'd eat more in aweek than he'd kill, ketch, or raise in a year. When his light went outI'd only one less mouth to feed, and got rid o' his jawin' an' cussin'all the time. But that hain't nothin' t' do with you. You 's jestputtin' on a lettle authority kase ye could. But all men air alikethat-a-way. Elect a man Constable, an' he wants t' put on more airs thanthe Guv-nor; marry him, an' he makes ye his slave."
"I should think it'd be a bold man that'd try to make you his slave.Madam," Si ventured.
"Y' she'd think," she retorted, with her arms akimbo. "Who axed y' t'think, young feller? What d' y' do hit with. Why d' y' strain y'rselfdoin' somethin' y' ain't used t'?"
It did Shorty so much good to see Si squelched, that he chuckled aloudand called out:
"Give it to him, old Snuff-Dipper. He's from the Wabash, an' hain't nofriends. He's bin itchin' a long time for jest such a skinnin' as you'regivin' him."
"Who air y' callin' Snuff-Dipper?" she retorted, turning angrilyon Shorty. "What've ye got t' say agin snuff-dippin', anyway,y' terbacker-chawin', likker-guzzlin', wall-oyed, splay-footed,knock-kneed{181} oaf? What air y' greasy hirelings a-comin' down heahfo', t' sass and slander Southern ladies, who air yo' superiors?"
"Give it to him, old Corncob Pipe," yelled Si "He needs lambastin'worse'n any man in the regiment. But what did you want to see me for?"
"I wanted to see yo' bekase I got a letter to yo' from a friend o' mine,who said yo' wuz gentlemen, an' rayly not Yankees at all. He said thatyo' wuz forced into the army agin yo' will."
"Gracious, what a liar that man must be," murmured Shorty to himself.
"An' yo' rayly had no heart to fight for the nigger, an' that yo'd treatme like a sister."
"A sister," Shorty exploded internally. "Think of a feller's havin' asister like that. Why, I wouldn't throw her in a soap-grease barrel."
"Who was this friend. Madam?" said Si, "and where is his letter?"
"I don't know whether to give it to yo' or not," said she. "Y're not themen at all that he ascribed to me. He said yo' wuz very good-lookin',perlite gentlemen, who couldn't do too much for a lady."
"Sorry we're not as handsome as you expected," said Si; "but mebbethat's because we're in fatigue uniforms. You ought to see my partnerthere when he's fixed up for parade. He's purtier'n a red wagon then.Let me see the letter. I can tell then whether we're the men or not."
"Kin yo' read?" she asked suspiciously.
"O, yes," answered Si laughingly at the thought almost universal inthe South that reading and writing were--like the Gift of Tongues--aspecial{182} dispensation to a few favored individuals only. "I can readand do lots o' things that common people can't. I'm seventh son of aseventh son, born with a caul on my head at the time o' the full moon.Let me see the letter."
She was not more than half convinced, but unhooked her dress and took anote from her bosom, which she stuck out toward Si, holding tightly onto one end in the meanwhile. Si read, in Levi Rosenbaum's flourishing,ornate handwriting:
"Corporal Josiah Klegg, Co. Q, 200th Indiana Volunteers, in Camp on Duck River."
"That means me," said Si, taking hold of the end of the envelope. "Thereain't but one 200th Injianny Volunteers; there's no other Co. Q, and I'mthe only Josiah Klegg."
The woman still held on to the other end of the letter.
"It comes," continued Si, "from a man a little under medium size,with black hair and eyes, dresses well, talks fast, and speaks a Dutchbrogue."
"That's him," said the woman, relinquishing the letter, and taking aseat under the shade of a young cucumber tree, where she proceeded tofill her pipe, while awaiting the reading of the missive.
Si stepped off a little ways, and Shorty looked over his shoulder as heopened the letter and read:
"Dear Boys: This will be handed you, if it reaches you at all, by Mrs. Bolster, who has more about her than you think."{183}
"I don't know about that," muttered Shorty; "the last time I had thepleasure o' meetin' the lady she had 'steen dozen bottles o' head-bustabout her."
"She's a Confederate, as far as she goes."
Si continued reading,
"which is not very far. She don't go but a little ways. A jay-bird that did not have any more brains would not build much of a nest. But she is very useful to me, and I want you to get in with her. As soon as you read this I want Si to give her that pair of horn combs I gave him. Do it at once. Sincerely your friend,
"Levi Rosenbaum."
Si knit his brows in perplexity and wonderment over this strangemessage. He looked at Shorty, but Shorty's face was as blank ofexplanation as his own. He fumbled around in his blouse pocket, drewforth the combs, and handed them to the woman. Her dull face lightedup visibly. She examined the combs carefully, as if fitting them to adescription, and, reaching in her bosom, pulled out another letter andhanded it to Si.
When this was opened Si read:
"Dear Boys: Now you will understand the comb business. I wanted to make sure that my letter reached the right men, and the combs were the only things I could think of at the moment. Mrs. B. will prize them, though she will never think of using them, either on herself or one of her shock-headed brats. I want you to play it on her as far as your consciences will allow. Pretend that you are awful sick of this Abolition war, and tired fighting for the nigger, and all that stuff. Make her the happiest{184} woman in Tennessee by giving her all the coffee you can spare. That will fetch her quicker and surer than anything else. Like most Southern women, she is a coffee-drinker first and a rebel afterward, and if some preacher would tell her that heaven is a place where she will get all the Yankee coffee she can drink, she would go to church regularly for the rest of her life. Tell her a lot of news--as much of it true as you can and think best; as much of it otherwise as you can invent. Follow her cautiously when she leaves camp. Don't let her see you do so. You will find that she will lead you to a nest of spies, and the place where all the whisky is furnished to sell in camp. I write you thus freely because I am certain that this will get in your hands. I know that your regiment is out here, because I have been watching it for a week, with reference to its being attacked. It won't be for at least awhile, for there's another hen on. But make up to the old lady as much as your consciences and stomachs will allow you. It will be for the best interests of the service.
"Sincerely yo
ur friend, Levi Rosenbaum."
"I wonder what game Levi is up to?" Si said, as he stood with the letterin his hand and looked at the woman. "I'll give her all the coffee I canand be very civil to her, but that's as far as I'll go. The old rebelcat. I'll not lie to her for 40 Levi Rosenbaums."
"Well, I will," said Shorty. "You fix her up with the coffee, and leavethe rest to me. I always had a fancy for queer animals, and run off fromhome once to travel with a menagerie. I'd like to take her up{185} Northand start a side-show with her. 'The Queen o' the Raccoon Mountains,' orthe 'Champion Snuff-Dipper o' the Sequatchie Valley.' How'd that do fora sign?"
"Well, go ahead," said Si. "But expect no help from me."
"Mr. Klegg, when I want your help in courtin' a lady I'll let you know,"said Shorty with dignity. Si went back to the tent to see aboutgetting the coffee, and Shorty approached Mrs. Bolster with an engagingexpression on his countenance. She was knocking the ashes out of herpipe.
"Let me fill your pipe up again. Madam, with something very choice,"said he, pulling out a plug of bright natural leaf. "Here's someterbacker the like o' which you never see in all your born days. It wasraised from seed stole from the private stock of the High-muk-a-muk o'Turkey, brung acrost the ocean in a silver terbacker box for the useo' President Buchanan, and planted in the new o' the moon on a pieceo' ground that never before had raised nothin' but roses andsweet-williams. My oldest brother, who is a Senator from Oshkosh, gotjust one plug of it, which he divided with me."
"O, my! is that true?" she gurgled.
"It's as true as that you are a remarkably fine lookin' woman," he saidwith unblushing countenance, as he began whittling off some of thetobacco to fill her pipe. "I was struck by your appearance as soon as Isaw you. I always was very fond of the Southern ladies."
"Sakes alive, air y'?" she asked; "then what air yo'uns down herefoutin' we'uns fur?"{186}
"That's a long story, m'm," answered Shorty. "It was a trick o' theAbolition politicians that got us into it. I'm awful sick o' the war(that we hain't gone ahead and knocked the heads offen this whole crowdinstead o' layin' 'round here in camp for months)" he added as a mentalreservation, "and wisht I was out of it (after we've hung Jeff Davis ona sour-apple tree). Then I might settle down here and marry some nicewoman. You're a widder, I believe you said."
"Yes, I'm a widder," she answered, taking her pipe from her mouth andgiving him what she intended for a languishing smile, but which Shortyafterward said reminded him of a sun-crack in a mud fence. "Yes, I'ma widder. Bin so for gwine on six months. Sakes alive, but ye dotalk nice. You air the best-lookin' Yankee I've ever seed." "Nothin'painfully bashful about her," thought Shorty. "But I must be careful notto let her get me near a Justice of the Peace. She'd marry me before Icould ketch my breath. Madam," he continued aloud.
"Yo' may call me Sophrony," she said, with another cavernous smile.
"Well, Sophrony, let me present you with half o' this plug o' famousterbacker." He drew his jackknife and sliced the plug in two. "Take it,with my warmest respects. Here comes my partner with some coffee I'vesent him for, and which I want you to have. It is not as much as I'dlike to give you, but it's all that I have. Some other day you shallhave much more."
"Law's sakes." she bubbled, as the fragrant odor{187} of the coffeereached her nose, and she hefted the package. "Yo' air jest the nicestman I ever did see in all my born days. I didn't s'pose thar wuz so nicea man, or sich a good-lookin' one, in the hull Yankee army, or inthe oonfederit either, fur that matter. But, then, yo' ain't no realblue-bellied Yankee."
"No, indeed, Sophrony. I never saw New England in all my life, nor didany o' my people. They wuz from Virginny (about 500 miles, as near as Ikin calculate)" he added to himself as a mental poultice.
"Say, Mister, why don't you leave the Yankee army?"
"Can't," said Shorty, despairingly. "If I tried to git back home theProvos 'll ketch me. If I go the other way the rebel's ketch me. I'mbetwixt the devil and the deep sea."
She sat and smoked for several minutes in semblance of deep thought,and spat with careful aim at one after another of the prominent weedsaround. Then she said:
"If yo' want t' splice with me, I kin take keer o' yo'. I've helped runoff several o' the boys who wuz sick o' this Abolition war. Thar'stwo o' them now with Bill Phillips's gang makin' it hot for the Yankeetrains and camps. They're makin' more'n they ever did soljerin', an'havin' a much better time, for they take whatever they want, no matterwho it belongs to. D' yo' know Groundhog, a teamster? He's in cahootswith us."
"Oh!" said Shorty to himself. "Here's another lay altogether. Guess it'smy duty to work it for all that it's worth."{188}
"Is it a bargain?" she said suddenly, stretching out her long, skinnyhand.
"Sophrony," said Shorty, taking her hand, "this is so sudden. I neverthought o' marryin'--at least till this cruel war is over. I don't knowwhat kind of a husband I'd make. I don't know whether I could fill theplace o' your late husband!"
"Yo're not gwine t' sneak out," she said, with a fierce flash in hergray eyes. "If yo' do I'll have yo' pizened."
"Now, who's talkin' about backin' out?" said Shorty in a fever ofplacation, for he was afraid that some of the other boys would overhearthe conversation. "Don't talk so loud. Come, let's walk on toward yourhome. We kin talk on the way."
The proposition appeared reasonable. She took the bridle of her horsein her arm, and together they walked out through the guard-line. Thesentries gave Shorty a deep, knowing wink as he passed. He went the morewillingly, as he was anxious to find out more about the woman, and theoperations of the gang with which she was connected. She had alreadysaid enough to explain several mysterious things of recent occurrence.Night came down and as her ungainliness was not thrust upon him as itwas in the broad glare of day, he felt less difficulty in professinga deep attachment for her. He even took her hand. On her part she grewmore open and communicative at every step, and Shorty had no difficultyin understanding that there was gathered around her a gang that waspracticing about everything detrimental to the army. They were by turnsspies, robbers, murderers, whisky{189} smugglers, horse-thieves, andanything else that promised a benefit to themselves. Ostensibly theywere rebels, but this did not prevent their preying upon the rebels whenoccasion offered. Some were deserters from the rebel army, some wereevading the conscript laws, two or three were deserters from our army.
Shorty and the woman had reached a point nearly a half-mile outside ofthe guard-line when he stopped and said:
"I can't go no farther now. I must go back." "Why must yo' go back?" shedemanded, with a{190} sudden angry suspicion. "I thought yo' wuz gwineright along with me."
"Why, no. I never thought o' that. I must go back and get my thingsbefore I go with you," said Shorty, as the readiest way of putting heroff.
"Plague take y'r things," she said. "Let 'em go. Yo' kin git plenty morejest as good from the next Yankee camp. Yo' slip back some night withthe boys an' git yo'r own things, if y'r so dratted stuck on 'em. Comealong now."
She took hold of his wrist with a grip like iron. Shorty had no ideathat a woman could have such strength.
"I want to go back and git my partner," said Shorty. "Me and him 've bintogether all the time we've bin in the army. He'll go along with me,I'm sure. Me and him thinks alike on everything, and what one starts theother jines in. I want to go back an' git him."
"I don't like that partner o' your'n. I don't want him. I'll be a betterpartner t' yo' than ever he was. Yo' mustn't think more o' him than yo'do o' me."
"Look here, Sophrony," said Shorty desperately, "I cannot an' willnot go with you to-night. I'm expectin' important letters from hometo-morrow, and I must go back an' git 'em. I've a thousand things todo before I go away. Have some sense. This thing's bin sprung on me sosuddenly that it ketches me unawares."
With the quickness of a flash she whipped out a long knife fromsomewhere, and raised it, and then hesitated a second.
SHE WHIPPED OUT A LONG KNIFE.
189]
"I believe yo're foolin' me, and if I wuz shore I'd{191} stick yo'. ButI'm gwine t' give yo' a chance. Yo' kin go back now, an' I'll come foryo' ter-morrer. If you go back on me hit'll be a mouty sorry day foryo'. Mind that now."
Shorty gallantly helped her mount, and then hurried back to camp.