"Look here." Tom
moved up beside him and they spread the map out on their knees. "There's a
town called Corinth." Tom pointed with a brown forefinger. "Beauregard is
there. And here is Atlanta, which is Beauregard's base of supplies. Here is
Murfreesboro where we're camped. If Beauregard's supplies were cut off
between Atlanta and Chattanooga, what would happen to Beauregard?"
"He'd been in for trouble," answered Tom.
"And Chattanooga...?"
"Chattanooga would be flying Mitchel's flag." Tom's eyes brightened, and he
turned so that he could look squarely at his cousin. "But, Bert, how were
you going to do it?"
Bert smiled wanly, and left Tom in suspense a moment before he answered.
Then he glanced balefully at his ankle. "Some of us were going into the
South, and ... well, we were simply going to do it."
"The railroad between Atlanta and Chattanooga?" asked Tom.
"You've guessed it, but, on your life, don't breathe a word of it."
Tom's eyes opened wide. "Never! And aren't they going to do it now! Just
because you're ankle is broken?"
"They'll do it, all right," answered Bert. "I'm not that important. There's
only one man who is so important that they have to have him."
"And who's that?"
"The leader--the man who planned it.
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