Kitty's Conquest

  CHAPTER II.

  The "Twenty minutes to Sandbrook" had become involved in difficulty.Interested in my chat with Kitty, I had failed to notice that we werestopping even longer than usual at some mysterious locality where therewas even less of any apparent reason for stopping at all. All withoutwas darkness. I pushed open the window, poked out my head, and took asurvey. All was silence save the hissing of the engine way ahead, andone or two voices in excited conversation somewhere near the baggage-carand by the fence at the roadside. Two lights, lanterns apparently, wereflitting rapidly about. I wondered at the delay, but could assign nocause in reply to the natural question Miss Kit asked as I drew in myhead.

  Mars opened his window as I closed mine, looked out a moment, then gotup, gave himself a stretch, and stalked out; this time without slammingthe door; a bang would have been too demonstrative in that oppressivesilence. In one minute he came back with a quick, nervous step, pickedup a belt and holster he had left at his seat, and, without a glance atus, turned sharply back to the door again. As he disappeared, I saw hishand working at the butt of the revolver swung at his hip. Something waswrong. I knew that the Ku-Klux had been up to mischief in that vicinity,and the thought flashed upon me that they were again at work. Lookingaround, I saw that three of our four fellow-passengers had disappeared.They were ill-favored specimens, for I remembered noticing them justbefore we stopped, and remarked that they were talking earnestly and inlow tones together at the rear end of the car. The other passenger wasan old lady, spectacled and rheumatic. Without communicating mysuspicions to my little charge, I excused myself; stepped quietly out;swung off the car, and stumbled up the track toward the lights.

  A group of six or eight men was gathered at the baggage-car. About thesame number were searching along the fence, all talking excitedly. Ihailed a brakeman and asked what was the matter.

  "Ku-Klux, sir! Tried to rob the express! There was two of them in maskjumped in with their pistols and belted the agent over the head and laidhim out; but afore they could get into the safe, the baggage-master, JimDalton, came in, and he yelled and went for 'em. We was running slow upgrade, and they jumped off; Jim and the conductor after them; that'swhy we stopped and backed down."

  "Which way did they go?" I asked.

  "Took right into the bush, I reckon. That lieutenant and another fellerhas gone in through here, and Bill here says he seen three other fellerslight out from the back car,--the one you was in, sir. That's enough tocatch them if they're on the trail."

  "Catch them!" I exclaimed. "Those three men in our car were of the samegang, if anything, and that makes five to our four."

  "Yes, by G--d!" said another of the party, a sturdy-looking planter;"and what's more, I believe they've got a ranch in hereabouts and belongto Hank Smith's gang. There ain't a meaner set of cut-throats in allDixie."

  "Then, for heaven's sake, let's go in and hunt up our party!" said I,really apprehensive as to their safety. Three or four volunteered atonce. Over the fence we went, and on into the pitchy darkness beyond.Stumbling over logs and cracking sticks and leaves, squashing throughmud-holes and marshy ground, we plunged ahead, until a minute or twobrought us panting into a comparatively open space, and there we pausedto listen. Up to this time I had heard not a sound from the pursuit, andhardly knew which way to turn. Each man held his breath and strained hisears.

  Another minute and it came,--well on to the front,--a yell, a shot,another shot, and then,--"This way!" "This way!" "Here they are!" Therest was drowned by our own rush, as we once more plunged into thethicket and on towards the shouts. All of us were armed in one way oranother,--it is rare enough that any man goes otherwise in that sectionof the country,--and to me there was a terrible excitement about thewhole affair, and my heart came bounding up to my throat with everystride.

  One or two more shots were heard, and on we kept until, just as everyman was almost breathless and used up, we were brought to a sudden stopon the steep bank of a bayou that stretched far to either side of ourpath, right and left, completely barring farther progress.

  In blank amazement, and utterly at a loss what to do, we were gazingstupidly in one another's faces, as one after another we gathered on thebrink, when there came a sudden exclamation from the midst ofus,--"Who's that?" I jumped, thanks to startled nerves, and lookedaround.

  A dark form came creeping slowly up the bank, and a weak voice said,--

  "Don't shoot, fellows. I'm all right, but they nigh onto finished me,and they've got Hank Smith away anyhow."

  We crowded around him with questions; but he was faint and sick and theblood was streaming from a cut on his forehead. A long pull at a flasktendered by some sympathetic soul in the group revived him enough totell his experience.

  "Me and the lieutenant took out through the open until we had to take tothe bush. Didn't see the conductor nor Jim anywhere, but we gained onthe Kluxers. Pretty soon we heard 'em busting through the bushes andheard 'em holler. I got blowed, but the lieutenant, he went ahead likeas though he'd done nothing but jump since he was a pup. I never seensuch a kangaroo. He got clean out of sight, and all of a sudden I heardhim holler; and then came a couple o' shots; and pretty quick I cameupon him and another cuss just more than going for one another in thebushes. The Yankee had him under, though, and had winged him on the run.When I came up he says to me, says he, 'You look out for this man now.He can't hurt you, but if he squirms, you put a hole in him. I'm goingon after the others.' So on he went, and I took a look round. I'd satdown on the cuss to make sure I had him, and my pistol at his ear. Hewas lyin' right here a-glarin' up at me, and the moment I got a good,square look at his face, d--n my eyes if it wasn't Hank Smith! Then Ibegan to feel bully; and just then I heard some other fellows runningup, and thought it was our crowd, so I yelled out that I was here andhad Hank Smith all right; and he kinder grinned; and they hollered'bully' too; and next thing I knew one of 'em ran up and fetched me awipe over the head and rolled me off down the bank, and there I've beenmud-hugging ever since.

  "I was stunned, but knew enough to lie quiet, and they got into somekind of a boat and went paddling off across the creek; but Hank wasgroaning and cussing so that I couldn't hear nothing but him. He sworeby all that was holy that he'd have that Yank's heart's-blood before themonth was out, and I tell you the lieutenant had better keep his eyepeeled or he'll do it."

  So we had lost him after all! It was too bad! and so said the conductorand baggage-master when they rejoined us a few minutes after, bringingwith them the cavalryman, all three out of breath, covered with mud andscratches, and the latter looking very white and saying but little. Inoticed that his handkerchief was bound tightly round his left hand, anddivined the cause at once. My respect for Mars was rising every minute.He took a pull at the flask, looked revived, and as we all turnedmoodily back to the train, I asked him about his hurt. "Nothing but aclip on the hand," said he; "but I suppose it bled a good deal before Inoticed it, and made me a little faint after the row was over. Isuspected those fellows who were in our car; in fact, had been sent upto Corinth to look after one or two just such specimens, and was on myway back to my troop by this train. If that man was Hank Smith, as theyseem to think, I would almost rather have lost my commission than him."Mars's teeth came together solidly as he gave vent to this sentiment,and his strides unconsciously lengthened so that I had to strike anamble to keep up.

  By this time we had worked our way back into a comparatively open spaceagain, and could see the dim lights of the train several hundred yardsoff. The rest of our little party kept crowding around us and offeringmy young hero cordial expressions of sympathy for his hurt, and, inhomely phrase, many a compliment on his plucky fight. Mars took it allin a laughing sort of way, but was evidently too disgusted at the escapeof his bird to care to talk much about anything. Nevertheless, before wegot back to the train I gave him my name, and, as an old friend of JudgeSummers's, whom I presumed he knew, trusted that I might meet himfrequently, and that we might become better acquainted
.

  "Thank you, Mr. Brandon," he answered; "I have heard the judge speak ofyou, and am sorry I did not know sooner who you were. My name isAmory."

  "Have you been long in the South?" I asked.

  "No, sir; only a month or two. In fact,"--and here something like ablush stole up to the young fellow's cheek,--"I only graduated in thislast class--'71--from the Academy, and so have seen but little of anykind of service."

  "You're soldier all over, at any rate," thought I, as I looked at theerect, graceful figure beside me; and wondered--my thoughts suddenlyreverting to Miss Kitty--how a young girl could find it in her heart tosnub such a handsome fellow as that, Yank or no Yank.

  A few strides more brought us to the train, where Amory, whose gallantryhad already been noised abroad among the passengers, was immediatelysurrounded by an excited group of non-combatants, while I jumped intoour car to see how my little _protegee_ had fared during our absence.She looked vastly relieved at my reappearance, having of course learnedthe true state of affairs soon after our sudden departure. I told herbriefly what had happened, taking rather a mischievous delight indilating upon Mars's achievement, and affecting not to notice theexpression of mingled contempt and incredulity that promptly appeared inher pretty face. Mars himself did not reappear: he had gone into thebaggage-car to bathe his hand and accept the eager attentions of one ortwo Africans, native and to the manner born, who were vying with oneanother in brushing off the dirt from his snugly-fitting uniform. He wasstill surrounded by a knot of passengers and train-hands when I wentforward to see how he was getting along, which I did when the trainstarted, but we exchanged a cordial grip of the hand; and parted withthe promise of meeting at "the judge's," or the cavalry camp, a fewmiles beyond, within the next two or three days.

  The whistle for Sandbrook was just beginning as I rejoined Miss Kitty,and, after a vigorous life of at least two minutes, wound up in a dismalwhine as we rolled in among the lights at the station. Yes, there theywere, ready and waiting for us. The genial, gray-haired old judge andMiss Pauline herself, his only and devoted daughter, in whose arms MissKit was rapturously enfolded the instant she hopped from the platform.There, too, was old Jake Biggs, whom the conductor had mentioned asmademoiselle's escort in case no one else appeared,--Jake and his booncompanion, his faithful old horse, "Bob," so named in honor of GeneralLee. Jake was an old colored servant of the Summers family, and hadfollowed his "young massa," Harrod Summers, all through the war; hadseen him rise from subaltern to colonel; had nursed him through woundsand illness; and at last when the war was over, and Harrod, who had goneforth with the enthusiasm and ardor of a boy, returned to his father'shome, old Jake contentedly followed him, and settled down in one of thefew log cabins that remained on the almost ruined estate of theSummers'. Jake was a "free nigger" now, but the world to him was wrappedup in old associations and "Mars' Harrod." No such soldier ever hadlived as his "cunnel," no such statesman as the judge; no such belle asMissy Pauline. And Jake not only would not leave them, but in a vagueand chivalric manner he stumbled about the premises, lording it over theyoung niggers and making mighty pretence at earning an independentlivelihood for himself by "doin' chores" around the neighborhood, and inhauling loads from the depot to the different plantations within a fewmiles' radius of Sandbrook. He had managed to scrape up a dilapidatedcart and harness somewhere or other, and poor old Bob furnished, greatlyto his disgust, the draft and motive power. Having been a fine andspirited saddle-horse in his younger days, Bob had naturally rebelled atthe idea of coming down to the level of the plantation mules, and hadshown something of his former self in the vigorous and determinedremonstrance which resulted on the occasion of Jake's first experimentswith the harness; but beyond a temporary dislocation of buckles, straps,and dash-board, and a volley of African anathemas and "Whoa da's" fromhis master, poor old Bob's rebellion had accomplished nothing, and hehad finally settled down into a resigned and dreamy existence, and wentplodding about the vicinity with the asthmatic cart at his heels, avictim to the vicissitudes of war.

  Jake was a pet of mine, and had amused me very much on the occasion ofmy first visit to the judge's, and that's why I tell so long a rigmaroleabout him. He stood there, a little aloof from the "quality folks,"grinning and bowing, and making huge semicircular sweeps with hisbattered old hat, in his anxiety to do proper honor to the judge'sguests.

  I had a chance to receive my especial welcome while Miss Kit was beingalmost devoured by her relatives; and presently the baggage was allpitched off; the train moved on with a parting whoop; Mars appeared atthe rear door and gave me a farewell wave of the hand; and then, leavingto Jake and Bob the responsible duty of transporting the young lady'strunks, we four--Miss Summers and Miss Kit, the judge and I--were dulyensconced in the comfortable old carriage, and went jolting offhomeward.

  Mr. Summers and I had much to talk about, and finding it impossible toget a word in edgewise with the two young ladies, who were fondling,fluttering, cooing, and chattering on the back seat in the most absorbedmanner imaginable, we gradually drifted off into our law business andlet them gossip away and exchange volleys of news and caresses.

  The judge was deeply interested in my account of the adventure with theKu-Klux, and much concerned about Amory's hurt.

  I learned from him of the desperate and lawless character of the men whowere generally believed to be the prominent members of the gang, and theperpetrators of the dastardly outrages that had been so recentlyinflicted both upon the negroes and the whites. The people wereterrified beyond expression; several had been driven from the country;several had been shot down in cold blood. A defenceless girl who hadbeen sent down from the North as teacher of the freedmen's school, hadbeen dragged from her bed at midnight and brutally whipped by somecowardly ruffians. The sheriff, who had arrested one of the suspectedparties, was threatened in an anonymous letter with death if he failedto release his prisoner within twenty-four hours. He called upon thecitizens for assistance, but none was given, for the Union people weretoo few. A dozen men in mask surrounded his house the next night; hiswife heard the strange noise, and went to the door; opened it, and wasshot dead in her tracks. The jail was forced, the prisoner released andspirited off beyond the limits of the State.

  All this was going on, when, to the great joy of peace-loving people,and undisguised anger of the unreconstructed, a troop of United Statescavalry came suddenly to the scene. Several arrests of known murderersand marauders were made; and, until that very evening, nothing more hadbeen heard of the dreaded Ku-Klux. Indeed, it was by some personsbelieved that their organization was broken up, and nothing but thepositive testimony of one of their own neighbors, the man to whom Amoryhad turned over his prisoner, would induce the citizens generally tobelieve that Hank Smith himself was concerned in the attempted robberyof the express car. The cavalry had been there just about a month whenthis affair took place.