CHAPTER XVIII
THE BATTLE OF THE RACCOON
Mrs. Atchison met the returning adventurers at the door.
"Your conduct, Jerry Dangerfield, is beyond words!" she exclaimed,seizing the girl's hands. "And so you really locked that horrid personin a real jail! Well, we shan't miss him! We have been kept up all nightby the arrival here of other prisoners--brought in like parcels from thegrocer's."
"More prisoners!" shouted Ardmore.
"Dragged here at an unearthly hour of the morning, and flung into themost impossible places by your soldiers! You can hear them yellingwithout much trouble from the drawing-room, and we had to give upbreakfast because the racket they are making was so annoying."
The captain of the battery whose guns frowned upon the terraces came upand saluted.
"Mr. Ardmore," he said, "I have been trying for several hours to seeGovernor Dangerfield, but this lady tells me that he has left Ardsley."
"That is quite true; the governor was called away last night on officialbusiness, and he will not return for an hour or two. You will kindlystate your business to me."
The captain was peevish from loss of sleep, and by no means certain thathe cared to transact business with Mr. Ardmore. He glanced at MissDangerfield, whom he had met often at Raleigh, and the governor'sdaughter met the situation promptly.
"Captain Webb, what prisoners have you taken, and why are they notgagged to prevent this hideous noise?"
Seemingly from beneath the ample porte-cochere, where this colloquyoccurred, rose yells, groans and curses, and the sound of thumps, as ofthe impact of human bodies against remote subterranean doors.
"They're trying to get loose, Miss Dangerfield, and they refuse to staytied. The fiercest row is from the fellows we chucked into the coalbins."
"It's excellent anthracite, the best I can buy; they ought to be glad itisn't soft coal," replied Ardmore defensively. "Who are they?"
"They're newspaper men, and they're most terribly enraged," answeredCaptain Webb. "We picked them up one at a time in different places onthe estate. They say they're down here looking for GovernorDangerfield."
Collins grinned his delight.
"Oh, perfect hour!" he sang. "We'll keep them until they promise to begood and print what we tell them. The little squeaky voice you hearoccasionally--hark!--that's Peck, of the Consolidated Press. He scoopedme once on a lynching, and here is where I get even with him."
"You have done well, Captain Webb," said Jerry with dignity, "and Ishall urge your promotion upon papa at the earliest moment possible. Arethese newspaper gentlemen your only prisoners?"
"No; we gathered up two other parties, and one of them is in theservants' laundry; the other, a middle-aged person, I lodged in thetower, where he can enjoy the scenery."
He pointed to the tower, from which the flag of North Carolina wavedgently in the morning breeze.
"The prisoner up there made an awful rumpus. He declares he will ruinthe whole state of North Carolina for this. Here is his card, which, ina comparatively lucid interval, he gave me to hand you at the earliestpossible moment," and Captain Webb placed a visiting card in Ardmore'shands.
A smile struggled for possession of Ardmore's countenance, but heregained control of himself promptly, and his face grew severe.
He gave the card to Jerry, who handed it to Mrs. Atchison, and that ladylaughed merrily.
"Your prisoner, Captain Webb, is George P. Billings, secretary of theBronx Loan and Trust Company of New York. What was he doing when youseized him?" demanded Ardmore.
"He was chasing the gentleman who's resting on the anthracite. He chasedhim and chased him, around a tea-house out here somewhere on the place;and finally this person in the coal hole fell, and they both rolled overtogether. The gentleman in the coal hole declares that he's Foster, thestate treasurer of North Carolina, but his face got so scratched on theshrubbery that he doesn't look in the least like Mr. Foster."
"I have sent him witch hazel and court plaster, and we can get a doctorfor his wounds, if necessary," said Mrs. Atchison.
A sergeant rushed up in hot haste with a demand from ColonelDaubenspeck, of the North Carolina First, to know when GovernorDangerfield could be seen.
"The South Carolina pickets have been withdrawn, and our officers wantorders from the governor in person," said the messenger.
"Then they shall have orders!" roared Ardmore. "If our men dare abandontheir outposts--"
He turned and rode furiously toward the border, and in his rage he hadtraversed a thousand yards before he saw that Jerry was close behindhim. As they passed the red bungalow the crack of scattering rifle-shotsreached them.
"Go back! Go back! The war's begun!" cried Ardmore; but, though hequickened the pace of his horse, Jerry clung to his side.
"If there's war, and I hope there is, I shall not shrink from the firingline, Mr. Ardmore."
As they dashed into their own lines they came upon the regimentalofficers, seated in comfortable chairs from the red bungalow, calmlyengaged in a game of cards.
"Great God, men!" blurted Ardmore, "why do you sit here when the state'shonor is threatened? Where was that firing?"
"You seem rather placid, gentlemen, to say the least," added Jerry,coldly bowing to the officers, who had risen at her approach. "Unless Iam greatly mistaken, that is the flag of South Carolina I see flauntedin yonder field." And she pointed with a gauntleted hand to a palmettoflag beyond the creek.
"It is, Miss Dangerfield," replied the colonel politely, "and you cansee their pickets occasionally, but they have been drawn back from thecreek, and I apprehend no immediate advance."
"No advance! Who are we to wait for them to offer battle? Who are we toplay bridge and wait upon the pleasure of a cowardly enemy?" and Jerrygazed upon the furious Ardmore with admiration, as he roared at theofficers, who stood holding their caps deferentially before the daughterof their commander-in-chief. Ardmore, it was clear, they did not takevery seriously, a fact which she inwardly resented.
"I don't think it would be quite fair," said the colonel mildly, "toforce issues to-day."
"Not force issues!" yelled Ardmore. "With your brave sons of our OldNorth State, not force battle! In the name of the constitution, I askyou, why not?"
"For the reason," replied the colonel, "that the South Carolina troopsate heavily of green apples last night in an orchard over there bytheir camp, and they have barely enough men to maintain their picketsthis morning. These, you can see, they have withdrawn a considerabledistance from the creek."
"Then tell me why they have been firing upon our lines? Why have theybeen permitted to shoot at our helpless and unresisting men if they arenot ready for war?"
"They were not shooting at our men, Mr. Ardmore. Their pickets are verytired from loss of sleep, and they were trying to keep awake by shootingat a buzzard that hung over a field yonder, where there is, our scoutsinform us, a dead calf lying in one of your pastures."
"They shall have better meat! Buzzards shall eat the whole state ofSouth Carolina before night! Colonel, I order you to prepare at once tomove your troops across that creek."
The colonel hesitated.
"I regret to say, sir, that we have no pontoons!"
"Pontoons! Pontoons! What, by the shade of Napoleon, do you want withpontoons when you have legs? Again, sir, I order you to advance yourmen!"
It was at this crisis that Jerry lifted her chin a trifle and calmlyaddressed the reluctant colonel.
"Colonel Daubenspeck, in my father's name, I order you to throw yourtroops across the Raccoon!"
A moment later the clear notes of the bugle rose above the splash andbubble of the creek. There was no opportunity for a grand onward sweep;it must be a scramble for the southern shore over the rocks and fallentimber in that mad torrent.
And the Raccoon is a stream from all time dedicated to noble uses anddestined to hold mighty kingdoms in leash. One might well hesitatebefore crossing this wayward Rubicon. The Mississippi is merely a
nexcuse for appropriations, the Potomac the sporting ground ofcongressmen and shad. No other known stream is so happily calculated asthe foamy Raccoon to delight at once the gods of battle and the gentlesons of song. It marks one of those impatient flings of nature in which,bored with creating orderly, broadly-flowing streams, or varying thelandscape with quiet woodlands or meadows, she abandons herself for amoment to madness and, shaking water and rock together as in a dice-box,splashes them out with joyous laughter.
Jerry Dangerfield, seated upon her horse on a slight rise under a clumpof trees a little way back from the stream, coolly munched a cracker andsipped coffee from a tincup. Ardmore, again calm, now that Daubenspeckhad been spurred to action, smoked his pipe and watched the army prepareto advance.
Beyond the creek, and somewhat removed from it on the South Carolinaside, a rifle cracked, and far against the blue arch a huge, black,languorous object, rising with a last supreme effort, as though to claimrefuge of heaven, fell clawing at space with sprawling wings, thencollapsed and pitched earthward until the trees on the farther shore hidit from sight. A feeble cheer rose in the distance.
"They sound pretty tame over there," remarked Ardmore critically."There's no ginger in that cheer."
"The ginger," suggested Colonel Daubenspeck ironically, "is probably allin their stomachs."
One gun from the battery was brought down and placed on a slighteminence to support the advance, for which all was now in readiness. Thebugle sang again, and the men of one company sprang forward and beganleaping from rock to rock, silently, steadily moving upon the farthershore. Here and there some brown khaki-clad figure slipped and splashedinto the stream with a wild confusion of brown leggings; but on theywent intrepidly. The captain, leading his men through the torrent, wasfirst to gain the southern shore. He waved his sword, and with a shouthis men clambered up the bank and formed in neat alignment. This washardly accomplished before a uniformed figure dashed from a neighboringblackberry thicket and waved a white handkerchief. He bore something inhis hand, which to Ardmore's straining vision seemed to be a smallwicker basket.
"It's a flag of truce!" exclaimed Colonel Daubenspeck, and a sigh thatexpressed incontestable relief broke from that officer.
"The cowards!" cried Ardmore. "Does that mean they won't fight?"
"It means that hostilities must cease until we have permitted the bearerof the flag to carry his message into our lines."
The man with the basket was already crossing the creek in charge of acorporal.
"I have read somewhere about being careful of the Greeks bearing gifts,"said Jerry. "There may be something annoying in that basket."
The bearer of the basket gained the North Carolina shore and stroderapidly toward Miss Dangerfield, Ardmore and Colonel Daubenspeck. Hehanded the trifle of a basket to the colonel, who gazed upon itscontents for a moment with unspeakable rage. The color mounted in hisneck almost to the point of apoplexy, and his voice bellowed forth anoath so bleak, so fraught with peril to the human race, that Jerryshuddered and turned away her head as from a blast of flame. The colonelcast the wicker basket from him with a force that nearly tore him fromhis saddle. It struck against a tree, spilling upon the earth six small,hard, bright green apples.
"My letter," said the emissary soberly, "is for Mr. Thomas Ardmore, and,unless I am mistaken, you are that gentleman."
Ardmore seized a long envelope which the man extended, tore it open, andread:
Thomas Ardmore, Esq., Acting Governor of North Carolina, In the Field:
SIR--As I understand the present unhappy differences between the states of North and South Carolina, they are due to a reluctance on the part of the governor of North Carolina to take steps toward bringing to proper punishment in North Carolina an outlaw named Appleweight. I have the honor to inform you that that person is now in jail at Kildare, Dilwell County, North Carolina, properly guarded by men who will not flinch. If necessary I will support them with every South Carolinian able to bear arms. This being the case, a _casus belli_ no longer exists, and to prevent the effusion of blood I beg you to cease your hostile demonstrations on our frontier.
Our men seized a few prisoners during the night, and I am willing to meet you to arrange an exchange on the terms proper in such cases.
I am, sir, your obedient servant,
HENRY MAINE GRISWOLD, For the Governor of South Carolina.
"The nerve of it! The sublime cheek of it!" exclaimed Ardmore, thoughthe sight of Griswold's well-known handwriting had shaken him for themoment.
"As a bluffer your little friend is quite a wonder," was Jerry's onlycomment when she had read the letter.
Ardmore promptly wrote on the back of Griswold's letter this reply:
Henry Maine Griswold, Esq., Assistant Professor of Admiralty, Camp Buzzard, S. C.:
SIR--Appleweight is under strong guard in the jail at Turner Court House, Mingo County, South Carolina. I shall take pleasure in meeting you at Ardsley at five o'clock this afternoon for the proposed exchange of prisoners. To satisfy your curiosity the man Appleweight will be produced there for your observation and identification.
I have the honor, sir, to remain, with high regard and admiration, your obliged and obedient servant,
THOMAS ARDMORE, Acting Governor of North Carolina.
"Putting 'professor' on that will make him crazy," remarked Ardmore toJerry.
The messenger departed, but recrossed the Raccoon shortly with a formalnote agreeing to an armistice until after the meeting proposed atArdsley.
"Colonel Daubenspeck, you may withdraw your men and go into camp untilfurther orders," said Jerry, and the notes of the bugle singing therecall rose sweetly upon the air.
"By George," said Ardmore, as he and Jerry rode away, "we'll throw itinto old Grissy in a way that will jar the professor. But when it comesto the exchange of prisoners, I must tell the boys to bring up that chapI locked in the corn-crib. I had clean forgotten him."
"I don't think you mentioned him, Mr. Ardmore, but I suppose he's one ofthe Appleweight ruffians."
"Undoubtedly," replied Ardmore, whose spirits had never been higher,"though the fellow was not without his pleasant humor. He insisted withgreat vigor that he is the governor of South Carolina."
"I wonder"--and Jerry spoke wistfully--"I wonder where papa is!"
"Well, he's not in the corn-crib; be sure of that."
"Papa looks every inch the statesman," replied Jerry proudly, "and inhis frock-coat no one could ever mistake him for other than the patriothe is."