“I don’t see as we’ve much choice.”

“No, you have no choice.—­Sergeant, bring in the cords,” Jack ordered.

Barney at this came in with a clothes-line Jack had prepared from the negroes’ posts.  The arms of the three men were bound behind them, and then Jack retired with his aide to hold a council of war.  Without the negro they could never retrace their way to Dick.  But how could they carry the prisoners with them?  Manifestly it could not be done.  It was then agreed that Barney should take the prisoners, the horses, and the old man, with the younger boys, and make for the Union lines, not a mile distant.  Jack, meanwhile, with little Gabe, would go to the rescue of Dick.  If firing were heard later, Barney would understand that his friends were in peril, and, if the Union outposts were in sufficient strength, they could come to the rescue, and, perhaps, add to the captures of the night.  Barney was now serious enough.  He was reminded of no joke by the present dilemma, and remained very solemn, as Jack enlarged on the glories of the proposed campaign.  How all Acredale would applaud the intrepidity of its townsmen snatching glory from peril!  Barney consented to leave him with reluctance, suggesting that the “ould nagur” could take the prisoners “beyant.”

“Gabe has shown sense and courage, and I shall be much more likely to reach Dick and extricate him and Jones, alone, than if I had this cavalcade at my heels.”

Jack and Barney were forced to laugh at the big-eyed wonder in old Rafe’s eyes when he was informed of the imposing part he was to play in the warlike comedy.  To be guard over “white folks,” to dare to look them in the face without fear of a blow, in all his sixty years Rafael Hinton had never dreamed such a mission for a man of color.  The troopers, too tipsy and subdued to remark the sudden paucity of the force that had overcome them, were tied upon their own steeds, Barney in front of the leader, and Rafe and his son in charge of the two others.

Rafe led the way in trembling triumph.  He knew the ford, indeed, every foot of the country, and had no misgivings about reaching the Union lines.  Jack watched the squad until it disappeared in the fringe of trees, and then, turning to the tearful Gabe, said, encouragingly: 

“Now, we must do as well when we go among the Union soldiers.  You know the point in the swamp I have told about.  How long will it take us to reach that the shortest way?”

“Ef we had dad’s dugout we could save right smart.”

“You mean we could get there by water?”

“Yes, sah.  We ken go all froo de swamp in a boat.”

“Then I’m afraid it is not the place I mean, for we found as much land as water.”

“Dey ain’t no odder swamp neah heah, sah.”

“Well, we’ll try my route first.  If that misleads us, we shall try the boat.  Can you find it?”

“Suah.”

“Where is it?”