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A hazardous trip.

The next morning was Sunday, and we started on, reaching Senatobia about eleven o’clock.  We went into the camp, following the directions given us, to go to the last tent in the line; but, when we reached there, the soldiers were out.  We lingered around the grounds a short time, then went back, and found them there.  We gave them the note; and, after reading it, they simply asked us where we had stopped our wagon.  I told them outside the village.  “Go there,” said one of them, “and remain until we come out to see you.”  Shortly they came out; and, after we had told them what we wanted, the distance to McGee’s, which was about nineteen miles from Senatobia, and had given them such other information as they desired, they concluded that they would go.  “We want to be back,” said I, “before daylight Monday morning, because we must not be seen on the road; for we are well known in that section, and, if discovered, would be captured and killed.”  “Well,” said one of the soldiers, “we will have to go back to camp, and arrange to be excused from roll call this evening, before we can make the trip.”  They went back to camp; and, in about ten minutes they came out again saying:  “All is right; we will go.”  We gave them each ten dollars; and promised, if they brought us out safely, to give each ten dollars more.  It was now about half-past eleven o’clock.  They had to go to camp, and slip their horses out cautiously, so as not to be seen by the captain.  In half an hour we were on our way; and, after we had ridden some two miles, we were overtaken by the two soldiers.  It was Sunday afternoon; and our having a wagon attracted much attention from the farmers as we passed along.  They looked at us so sharply that George and I felt decidedly uneasy; yet we kept up courage and pressed steadily on.  After a long and weary ride we reached old Master Jack’s a little after sundown.  The soldiers rode into the yard ahead of us, and the first person they met was a servant (Frank) at the woodpile.  They said to him:  “Go in and tell your master, Mr. McGee, to come out, we want to see him,” at the same time asking for Louis’ and George’s wives.  Young William McGee came out and the soldiers said to him:  “We want feed for seventy-five head of horses.”  McGee said:  “We have not got it.”  Just then George and I were coming up.  We drove in at the gate, through the grove, and passed the woodpile where McGee and the soldiers were talking.  McGee had just replied:  “We have not got that much feed to spare—­we are almost out.”  “Well,” said the soldiers, “we must have it,” and they followed on right after the wagons.  As we drove past them, young McGee went running into the house, saying to his mother:  “It is Louis and George, and I’ll kill one of them to-night.”  This raised quite an alarm, and the members of the family told him not to do that, as it would ruin them.  As soon as