“Go back to him, colonel?  Why, he would hang me to the first tree.”

“Not if you tell him all about my strength and intended movements.”

“But how kin I?  I don’t know a thing.  I was brought into the camp blindfolded.”

“Still you can guess.  Suppose you tell him that I shall march to-morrow straight for his camp, and in ten days be upon him.”

“You’d be a fool, colonel, to do that, and he ’trenched so strongly, unless you had twenty thousand men.”

“I haven’t got that number.  Guess again.”

“Well, ten thousand.”

“That will do for a guess.  Now to-day I shall keep you locked up, and to-morrow you can go back to Marshall.”

At nightfall Brown went back to the rebel camp, and his report was made in accordance with Garfield’s suggestions.

The fact was, that deducting those sick and on garrison duty, Garfield’s little army amounted to but fourteen hundred in place of the ten thousand reported to the rebel commander.  This little army was set in motion the next day.  It was a toilsome and discouraging march, over roads knee-deep in mire, and the troops necessarily made but slow progress, being frequently obliged to halt.  Some days they succeeded in making but five or six miles.  On the 6th of January, however, they arrived within seven miles of Paintville.  Here while Garfield was trying to catch a few hours’ sleep, in a wretched log hut, he was roused by Jordan, the scout, who had just managed to reach the camp.

“Have you seen Craven?” asked Garfield eagerly.

“Yes; he can’t be more’n two days behind me, nohow.”

“God bless you, Jordan!  You have done us great service,” said Garfield, warmly, feeling deeply relieved by this important news.

“Thank ye, colonel.  That’s more pay ’n I expected.”

In the morning another horseman rode up to the Union camp.  He was a messenger direct from Gen. Buell.  He brought with him an intercepted letter from Marshall to his wife, revealing the important fact that the Confederate general had five thousand men—­forty-four hundred infantry and six hundred cavalry—­with twelve pieces of artillery, and that he was daily expecting an attack from a Union force of ten thousand.

It was clear that Brown had been true, and that it was from him Gen. Marshall had received this trustworthy intelligence of the strength of the Union army.

Garfield decided not to communicate the contents of this letter, lest his officers should be alarmed at the prospect of attacking a force so much superior.  He called a council, however, and put this question: 

“Shall we march at once, or wait the coming of Craven?”

All but one were in favor of waiting, but Garfield adopted the judgment of this one.

“Forward it is!” he said.  “Give the order.”

I will only state the plan of Garfield’s attack in a general way.  There were three roads that led to Marshall’s position—­one to the east, one to the west, and one between the two.  These three roads were held by strong Confederate pickets.