The boys capture rebels and administer the oath.

The rebel Major accepted the unexpected turn of events with soldierly philosophy.  Tuggers, captured in a blue uniform, saw the ignominious fate of a spy loom up before his eyes.  His face grew very white and set.  He sat down on a log, looked far away, and seemed oblivious to everything around him.

Jeff Hackberry and Sol Simmons were frightened into nerveless terror, and occasionally sighed and groaned audibly.  Their men huddled together like frightened sheep, and looked anxiously at every move of their captors.

’Squire Corson had ventured two or three remarks in a judicial and advisory way, but had been ordered by Capt.  McGillicuddy to sit down and keep quiet.  He took a seat on a stump, pulled a large bandana out of his beaver crowned hat, wiped his bald head, and anxiously surveyed the scene as if looking for an opportunity when the power and dignity of the State of Tennessee might be invoked to advantage.

Only Mrs. Bolster retained her aggressiveness and her tongue.  If anything, she seemed to be more savage and virulent than ever.  She was wild that she had been outwitted, and particularly by Si, whose fluent speech had returned the moment the firecrackers went oif.  She poured out volleys of scorching epithets on all the Yankees from President Lincoln down to Corp’l Si Klegg, and fervently invoked for them speedy death and eternal torment where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched.

Capt.  McGillicuddy rounded up his prisoners, took arms from those who still retained them, had Si and Shorty do what they could toward dressing the Major’s wound, and then began an examination of the house.

He found abundant evidence of all that he, Si and Shorty had believed of it.  It was a rendezvous for spies, both great and small-both those, like Mrs. Bolster, who infested our camps, and got news of whatever was going on there, and those who operated on a larger scale, passing directly from the Headquarters of the rebels to the Headquarters of ours, and to the rear, and the sources of information at Nashville and Louisville.  It was an important station on the route for smuggling gun-caps, quinine, medicines and other contraband from the North.  Quantities of these were there waiting to be forwarded.  As the source of the fighting whisky introduced into the camp of the 200th Ind. too much was known of it to require any further information.  And it was more than probable that it was the scene of darker crimes-Union soldiers lured thither under some pretext, murdered and robbed.

“How in the world am I going to break this infernal nest up?” said Capt.  McGillicuddy, with a puzzled air, after he had ordered the whisky destroyed and the other things gotten in shape to send back to camp.  “By rights, I ought to burn that house down, but that would leave all these children without shelter.  By the same token, I ought to shoot or at least send off to prison that old she-catamount, but that would mean starving the children to death.  I declare, I don’t know what to do.”

He had drawn apart a little with Si and Shorty, to whom he spoke confidentially, while casting his eyes about him as if seeking some solution of the problem.

“If you’ll allow me.  Captain,” said Shorty, “I’ve an idée.  Now that we’ve got the trap, let’s set it agin, and see if we can’t ketch some more.”

“Splendid idea.  Shorty,” said the Captain, catching on at once.

“And my idée,” said Shorty, emboldened by the reception of his first suggestion, “is that you take all the company but me and Si and four or fire of the boys back to camp, leavin’ us here until to-morrow at least.  There’ll probably some very interestin’ men happen along here to-night, not knowing what’s happened, and we’ll jest quietly yank ’em in.”

“That’s good,” assented the Captain.

“In the meantime,” continued Shorty, “you kin be considerin’ what you’ll do with the house.  It may be best to let it stand, and watch it.  That’s a good way to do with a bee-tree or a woodchuck hole.

“I believe you are right.  I’ll do as you say.  Si, you and Shorty pick out as many men as you want to stay with you.  I’ll leave one of these horses with you.  If you should happen to need any more, mount one of the boys and send him back for help.  I’ll come out with the whole company."

Shorty and Si consulted together for a few minutes, picked out their men, gave their names to the Captain, and received his assent to the selection.  Then Shorty said: 

“Captain, you don’t want to take that old woman, the ’Squire and that skunk they call Jeff Hackberry back to camp with you, do you?  Leave ’em here with us.  I’ve got a little scheme.”

“The old woman and the ’Squire you can take and welcome,” answered the Captain.  “I’ll be glad to have them oif my hands.  But Hackberry is a rebel soldier.  I don’t know about giving him up.”

“Leave him with us, then.  We’ll turn him back to you all right, and the old woman and the ’Squire, too, if you want ’em.”

“No,” said the Captain, with an impatient wave of his hand.  “Keep them, do what you please with them.  If you should accidentally kill the old woman I should not be unduly distressed.  But don’t let Hackberry get away from you.  I’ll take the rest back to camp, and I must start at once, for it’s getting late, and we didn’t bring any rations with us.  Do you suppose you can find enough around the house to keep you till morning?”

“O, yes,” said Si.  “There’s a sack of meal in there and some side-meat.  We gave the old woman a lot of coffee.  We’ll make out all right.”

The prisoners had been watching the Captain and his men with greatest anxiety.  They now saw Si with his squad take the ’Squire.  Mrs. Bolster and Hackberry off to one side, while the Captain placed the remainder of the prisoners in the center of his company and started back to camp with them.

There was something in this separation that terrified even Mrs. Bolster, who stopped railing and began to look frightened.

“What are yo’uns goin’ to do with we’uns?” she inquired hoarsely of Si.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” said Si significantly.  “Set down there on that log and think about what you deserve.  You might put in any spare time you have in doing some big repentin’.”

Hackberry began to whine and beg for mercy, but Shorty ordered him to keep silent.

“I want you to understand,” said the ’Squire, “that I’m a regerlarly elected and qualified Magistrate o’ the State o’ Tennessee; that I’m not subjeck to military laws, and if any harm comes to me you’ll have to answer for it to the State o’ Tennessee.”

“Blast the State o’ Tennessee,” said Shorty contemptuously.  “When we git through there won’t be no State o’ Tennessee.  It’ll be roasting in the same logheap with South Caroliny and Virginny, with Jeff Davis brilin’ in the middle.”

“Boys,” ordered Si, “a couple of you look around the house and see if you can’t find a mattock and shovel.”

Terrible fears assailed the three unhappy prisoners at this.  What could a mattock and shovel be wanted for but to dig their graves?

Shorty stepped over a little distance to a large clump of “red-sticks.”  These grow in long wands of brilliant red, as straight as a corn-stalk, and slenderer.  They are much used about the farms of the South for rods for rough measurement.  He cut one off about six feet long and stripped off its leaves.

The anxious eyes of the prisoners followed every movement.

Two of the boys appeared with an old mattock and shovel.

“Guess you’d better dig right over there,” said Si, indicating a little bare knoll.

“Nothin’ else’s ever bin planted there.  At least nothin’s ever come up.  The chances are agin their comin’ up if we plant ’em there.”

“Stand up,” said Shorty, approaching Hackberry with the bright crimson rod in his hand.  “I’m goin’ to measure you for a grass-green suit that’ll last you till Gabriel blows his horn.”

Hackberry gave a howl of terror.  The ’Squire and Mrs. Bolster began a clamor of protests.

“Don’t fuss,” said Shorty calmly to them, as he took Hackberry’s dimensions.  “I ain’t goin’ to show no partiality.  I’ll serve you both the same way.  Your turns ’ll come after his’n.”

The children, aware that something unusual was going on, yet unable to comprehend what it was, stood silently around, their fingers in their mouths and their vacant eyes fixed in the stolid stare of the mountaineer youth.  Even the dogs were quiet, and seemed watching the scene with more understanding than the children.

Mrs. Bolster’s mood suddenly changed from bitter vituperation.  She actually burst into tears, and began pleading for her life, and making earnest promises as to better conduct in the future.  The ’Squire and Hackberry followed suit, and blubbered like schoolboys.  Mrs. Bolster reminded Si and Shorty how she had saved them from being killed by the fierce Hackberry and the still fiercer Simmons.  This seemed to move them.  She tried a ghastly travesty of feminine blandishments by telling Shorty how handsome she had thought him, and had fallen in love with him at first sight.  Shorty gave a grimace at this.  He and Si stepped back a little for consultation.

When they came back Shorty said oracularly: 

“Our orders is strict, and we should’ve carried ’em out at once.  But, talkin’ with my partner here, we’re reminded o’ somethin’.  We believe it’s the law that when a man or woman is sentenced to death the execution kin be put off if they kin find anybody to marry ’em.  Is that good law, ’Squire?”

“H-m-m,” answered the Magistrate, resuming his judicial manner at once; “that is a general belief, and I’ve heard o’ some instances of it.  But before sayin’ positively, I should like to examine the authorities an’ hear argument.”

“Well, there hain’t goin’ to be no continuance in this case for you to look up authorities and hear arguments,” said Shorty decisively.  “We’re the higher court in this case, and we decided that the law’s good enough for it.  We’ve settled that if Mrs. Bolster ’ll marry Hackberry, and Hackberry ’ll marry Mrs. Bolster, and you’ll marry ’em both, we’ll grant a stay o’ proceedings in the matter o’ the execution o’ the sentence o’ death until we kin be advised by the higher authorities.”

“I’ll do anything.  Mister,” blubbered Hackberry.  “I’ll marry her this minnit.  Say the words, ’Squire.”

“I’ve said I’d rather die 10 times over than marry yo’, Jeff Hackberry,” murmured Mrs. Bolster.  “I’ve bin the wife o’ one ornery snipe of a whisky-sucking sand-digger, and when the Lord freed me from him I said I’d never git yoked with another.  But I s’pose I’ve got to live for my children, though the Lord knows the yaller-headed brats hain’t wuth hit.  They’re everyone of ’em their dad over agin-all Bolsters, and not wuth the powder to blow ’em to kingdom come.  I’d a heap ruther marry Jeff Hackberry to make sure o’ havin’ him shot than to save him from shootin’.”

“You hain’t no choice, Madam,” said Shorty severely.  “Law and orders is strict on that pint.”

“Well, then,” said she, “since hit’s a ch’ice betwixt death and Jeff Hackberry, I’ll take Jeff Hackberry, though I wouldn’t take him on no other terms, and I’m afeared I’m makin’ a mistake as hit is.”

“What do you say, ’Squire?” asked Shorty.

“I’ve bin studyin’ on jest whar I come in,” answered the Magistrate.  “These two save their necks by marryin’, but do you understand that the law says that the Magistrate who marries ’em gits his neck saved?”

“The court is not clear on that as a p’int o’ law,” said Shorty; “but in the present case it’ll hold that the ‘Squire who does the splicin’ gets as much of a rake-off as the rest.  This is not to be considered a precedent, however.”

“All right,” assented the ’Squire; “let the couple jine hands.”

With an air of glad relief, Hackberry sprang up and put out his hand.  Mrs. Bolster came up more slowly and reluctantly grasped his hairy fist in her large, skinny hand.  The ’Squire stood up before them in his most impressive attitude.

“Hold on,” suddenly called out Tom Welch, who was the “guard-house lawyer” of Co.  Q, and constantly drawing the “Regulations,” the “Tactics,” and the “Constitution and Laws of the United States,” in which he was sharply proficient, upon the members of the regiment.  “I raise the point that the ’Squire can’t officiate until he has taken the oath of allegiance to the United States.”

Si and Shorty looked at one another.

“That’s a good point,” said Si.  “He’s got to take the oath of allegiance.”

“Never,” shouted the ’Squire, who had begun to recover his self-confidence.  “Never, as long as I live.  I’ve sworn allegiance to the Southern Confederacy, and won’t take no other oath.”

“Grave for one!” called out Shorty to the boys with the pick and shovel, as if he were giving an order in a restaurant.  “Full size, and hurry up with it.”

He picked up his measuring rod and started to take the ’Squire’s dimensions.

The ’Squire wilted at once.  “I s’pose I’ve got to yield to force,” he muttered.  “I’ll take the oath.”

“Who knows the oath?” inquired Si.  “Do you, Tom?”

“Not exactly,” replied Tom, non-plused for once.  “But I know the oath we took when mustered in.  That ought to do.  What’s good enough for us is good enough for him.”

“Go ahead,” ordered Si.

“We ought to have a Bible by rights,” said Tom.

“Where kin we find your Bible, Mrs. Bolster, asked Si.

“We’uns air done clean out o’ Bibles,” she said, rather shamefacedly.  “Thar hain’t nary one in the house.  I allers said we orter have a Bible.  Hit looked ’spectable to have one in the house.  But Andy allers wanted every cent to guzzle on.”

“Here’s a Testament.  That’ll do,” said Tom, handing Si one which some of the boys had about him.  “Le’s make ’em all take the oath while we’re at it.”

“You’ll all raise your right hands,” said Si, opening the book.  “Place your left on this book, and repeat the words after that man there, givin’ your own names.”  Si was as solemn about it as he believed everyone should be at such a ceremony.  Hackberry and Mrs. Bolster were not sure which were their right hands, but Si finally got them started, and Tom Welch repeated slowly and impressively: 

“You do solemnly swear to support the Constitution and laws of the United States, and all laws made in pursuance thereof, against all enemies and opposers whatsoever, whether foreign or domestic, and to obey the orders of all officers duly appointed over you.  So help you God, and kiss this book.”

“And to quit liquor selling, smuggling, spying and giving aid and comfort to the enemy,” added Shorty, and this was joined to the rest of the oath.

“I ought to have added that they wash their faces once a day, and put more shortenin’ and fillin’ in Mrs. Bolster’s pies,” said Shorty in an undertone to Si.  “But I suppose we oughtn’t to ask impossible things.”

“Now go ahead with the wedding ceremony,” ordered Si.

Again the ’Squire commanded them to join hands, and after mumbling over the fateful words, pronounced Thomas Jefferson Hackberry and Mrs. Sophronia Bolster man and wife.

“Now,” said Shorty, who felt at last fully insured against a great danger, “I believe it’s the law and custom for all the witnesses to a weddin’ to see the bride and bridegroom in bed together.  You’ll go inside the house and take one of them beds, and after we’ve seen you there we’ll consider your cases further.  You’re all right, anyway, until we hear from camp to-morrow.”

Amid the grins of the rest the boys conducted the newly-weds into the house.

He and Si brought out the sack of meal, a few cooking utensils, a side of bacon, and the package of coffee, which they gave to the other boys to get supper with.  They closed the door behind them, excluding the children and dogs, and left the pair to their own reflections.

“Gentlemen, what air you gwine to do with me?” asked the ’Squire.  “I’d powerful like to git on home, if you’ve no further use for me.”

“We hain’t decided what to do with you, you old fomenter o’ rebellion,” said Si.  “We ought to shoot you for what you’ve done in stirring up these men to fight us.  We’ll settle your case to-morrow.  You’ll stay with us till then.  We’ll give you your supper, and after awhile you kin go in and sleep in that other bed, with the children.”

The ’Squire gave a dismal groan at the prospect, which was lost on the boys, who were very hungry and hurrying around helping to get supper.

They built a fine fire and cooked a bountiful meal, of which all, including the ’Squire and children, partook heartily.  A liberal portion, with big cups of strong coffee, were sent into the bridal couple.  As bed-time drew near, they sent the ’Squire and the children into the house, and divided themselves up into reliefs to watch during the night.