But such hopes were shattered a
few minutes later when two horsemen pulled up before them. They yelled when
they saw the three prisoners.
"Good work, Alf!" said one of the men. "Three of 'em. Hello there, Yanks."
"You're a Yank yourself," answered Tom hotly.
"What's that?"
"We're no more Yanks than you are. We were on our way to enlist in the army
at Chattanooga, and this is the way we get handled."
"Don't believe 'em," said Alf. "Let's search 'em."
"Why not wait until we get back to Judson? Easier to do it there."
"All right," replied Alf. "You two ride along beside 'em. I'm done up
totin' this gun."
The procession started again. Tom heard Wilson whisper to Shadrack: "Keep
to the story!"
"No talking, there!" ordered one of the horsemen. "You can do all your
talking when you get to Judson."
It was nearly six o'clock when they reached the little town of Judson. As
they went down the main street, men and boys tagged along beside them,
plying the guards with questions. The guards waved them aside, and
answered, "Don't know if it's them or not. Picked 'em up a piece down the
road."
They stopped at a two-story frame building labeled "Hotel." One of the
guards went in, then motioned to the others to bring the prisoners.
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