"Stop, Gentlemen, where you are." P. 146."Stop, Gentlemen, where you are." P. 146.
Involuntarily the crowd stood still at this unexpected arrival of reinforcements, and Webster, who had recognized the voice, looked up in surprise and relief at this unlooked-for, though timely, assistance.
I had arrived just in the nick of time, and I was resolved to defend my undaunted operative to the last.
At this moment the proprietor of the hotel entered the saloon, and in a calm voice and quiet manner attempted to subdue the angry feelings of the bystanders.
"Gentlemen," said he, "there need be no trouble about this matter; Mr. Webster can fully explain his position, and I think the best plan would be for you all to repair to the office of the mayor, where any explanation can be given."
"I am perfectly willing to do that," said I; "I know this man, and will answer for him under any circumstances; we will accompany you to the office of the mayor at once, and I think I can convince him that he is no spy."
This proposition was eagerly accepted by some, and reluctantly by others, and finally the entire party marched out of the hotel on their way to the office of the chief magistrate of the city; Webster and myself walking together.
The crowd increased as we went on, and frequent calls were still made to "hang the traitor," but no further attempts were made to molest us, and we reached the office without any event of a troublesome nature occurring.
The noise of the crowd attracted the attention of the chief of police, who, during the temporary absence of the mayor, was in charge of affairs of this nature, and he came to the door to ascertain the occasion of the tumult.
As the crowd, with Webster and myself in the van, reached the steps which led up to the municipal office, I at once recognized the chief of police, having been connected with him some time before in the detection of some burglars from the city of Pittsburg, and that officer was not slow to identify me as the detective, who had frequently enabled him to secure the desperate criminals whom the law had at various times pursued.
As we reached the platform where the officer was standing, I stretched forth my hand, which the chief cordially grasped.
"Why, Mr. Pinkerton, what are you doing here?" inquired the chief, with some surprise.
"I have come to defend one of my men, whom these people insist upon hanging as a rebel spy, but who is loyal to the core," I answered, laughingly.
"I will take care of that," replied the chief, "and your word is sufficient for me," at the same time extendinghis disengaged hand and warmly greeting Webster, who stood beside me.
As the crowd noticed the evident acquaintance and good-feeling that existed between the reputed spy and their chief of police, they drew back instinctively, while some of them looked as if they were not insensible to a feeling of shame. The chief realized the state of affairs at once, and turning to the now crestfallen and subdued gathering, he addressed them:
"Gentlemen, I will be responsible for the loyalty and integrity of these gentlemen, and you will instantly disperse."
The leaders of this assault on Webster looked terribly ashamed of themselves when they found how ridiculously they had been acting, and as the door of the chief's office closed on our retreating figures, they slowly and silently retired.
In an hour afterwards, when Webster and I returned to the hotel, we found the gentlemen who a short time before were anxious to hang him, awaiting our arrival, and we received from them their heartfelt apologies for their hasty and inconsiderate conduct, all of which were received with a spirit of good nature that won the regards of all present, and when the time of our departure arrived, they accompanied us to the depot in a body, and cheered us lustily as the train slowly moved away.
Thus an adventure, which promised to be veryserious in its results, terminated in a manner satisfactory to all, and Webster and myself, instead of being lynched by a Pittsburg mob, departed in safety on our journey, and arrived in Cincinnati upon the following day, prepared to receive from General McClellan such instructions as were deemed necessary by him for the furtherance of the cause in which he was engaged.
BETRAYED BY HIS BOOTS.BETRAYED BY HIS BOOTS.
At the outbreak of the rebellion many difficulties were encountered which the people and their leaders were ill-prepared to surmount, and many expedients were resorted to in order to equip and officer the troops as they arrived. The State of Ohio, the militia of which General McClellan had been called upon to command by Governor Dennison, was no exception to this rule; but that gentleman realized the importance of calling some one to the command of the volunteers, upon whose knowledge, judgment and experience he could place implicit reliance. He therefore turned to Captain McClellan, who was a graduate of West Point, and had been a captain in the regular army, but who had for some years past been devoting himself to the management of a prominent railroad enterprise in the State.
The Governor at once sent a communication to the general government, requesting that McClellan should be restored to his old rank in the army, andthat the duty of organizing the Ohio volunteers should be assigned to him. To this request no answer was received, and it was afterwards learned that the Governor's letter, owing to the interruption of communications with Washington from all points, had not reached its destination. Failing, therefore, to receive any reply from the general government, and being thus forced to rely upon his own resources, Governor Dennison at once summoned McClellan to Columbus, where the latter applied himself earnestly to the work of organizing the numerous volunteer regiments which offered their services to the country. The State laws were changed in such a manner as to allow the Governor to select commanding officers for these volunteers outside of the members of the State militia, and very soon afterward the Ohio troops were commanded by thoroughly competent men, who had made military movements the subject of scientific study.
On the third day of May a "Department of the Ohio" was formed, consisting of the combined forces of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, and this department, by order of General Scott, was placed under the command of General McClellan.
The Ohio troops, as they arrived, were mainly located at Camp Dennison, which was situated in a valley about sixteen miles northwesterly from the city of Cincinnati. This was the largest and the chief camp in the State, and here the volunteers received thatthorough instruction and training so essential in preparing for the rigors of war.
As I have stated, my personal acquaintance with George B. McClellan had, from its earliest incipiency, been of the most agreeable and amicable nature, and when I called at his house in Ludlow street, as I did immediately upon my arrival in Cincinnati, I was received with genuine cordiality. After we were closeted together I explained fully to him the character of the business that had called me to Washington, and how the complication of affairs at the seat of government necessitated so much delay that I had found it imperative upon me to leave without arriving at any definite understanding with the President.
The General had already been advised of his elevation in rank, and among other things desired to consult with me in relation to his affairs at the War Department.
I need not stop to give the details of that interview. His object in sending for me was to secure my aid and co-operation in the organization of a secret service for his department, and finding me more than willing to do all in my power to help along the cause of the Union, he immediately laid before me all his plans.
Our business was settled. It arranged that I should assume full management and control of this new branch of the service, and that I should at once enter upon the discharge of the multifarious dutiesattending so responsible a position. The General then informed me that he would write to General Scott for permission to organize this department under his own personal supervision; and he also agreed to submit the project to Governor Dennison, of Ohio, with a request to that gentleman to solicit the co-operation of the Governors of Illinois, Indiana, Michigan and Wisconsin, in sustaining the organization.
To this arrangement I gave a ready assent, and we then entered upon the discussion of affairs requiring immediate attention. Several measures, more or less important, had suggested themselves to my mind while the General was talking, and in the course of the conversation which followed, I presented them for his consideration. It was a relief to me to find that at the outset there was no clash of opinion between us, and I felt confident that there was not likely to be any in the future.
For several days my time was principally taken up in private consultations with General McClellan, in laying out a line of operations, by which I was to assist in making arrangements for bringing my own force into active duty at the earliest possible hour. I rented a suite of rooms and fitted up an office in Cincinnati, where I called about me some of the most capable and trustworthy detectives in my employ, and impressed upon them the great importance of the tasks that were about to be imposed upon them.
The general informed me that he would like observations made within the rebel lines, and I resolved to at once send some scouts into the disaffected region lying south of us, for the purpose of obtaining information concerning the numbers, equipments, movements and intentions of the enemy, as well as to ascertain the general feeling of the Southern people in regard to the war. I fully realized the delicacy of this business, and the necessity of conducting it with the greatest care, caution and secrecy. None but good, true, reliable men could be detailed for such service, and knowing this, I made my selections accordingly; my thoughts reverting first of all to Timothy Webster.
Within six hours after the commander had expressed his wishes to me, Timothy Webster was on his way to Louisville, with instructions to proceed southward from that city to Memphis, stopping at Bowling Green and Clarkesville on the way.
In Webster's case it was not necessary to devote much time to instructions, except as to his line of travel, for he was a man who understood the whole meaning of a mission like this, and one who would perform his duty with that faithfulness and ability by which he had fairly earned the confidence I now reposed in him.
Within a few days I also sent out other scouts, singly and in pairs, on the different routes that had been carefully prepared for them, and in a short timequite a number of my best operatives were engaged upon more or less difficult and dangerous tasks, all tending to the same end.
In organizing and controlling this secret service, I endeavored to conceal my own individual identity so far as my friends and the public were concerned. The new field of usefulness into which I had ventured was designed to be a secret one in every respect, and for obvious reasons I was induced to lay aside the name of Allan Pinkerton—a name so well known that it had grown to be a sort of synonym for detective. I accordingly adopted the less suggestive one of E. J. Allen; anom de guerrewhich I retained during the entire period of my connection with the war. This precautionary measure was first proposed by the General himself, and in assenting to it I carried out his views as well as my own. This ruse to conceal my identity was a successful one. My true name was known only to General McClellan, and those of my force who were in my employ before the breaking out of the rebellion, and by them it was sacredly kept. Indeed, I doubt if McClellan has ever divulged it to this day, if I may judge by the frequent occurrence of such incidents as the following:
A short time since, while on a visit to my New York agency, I chanced to meet one of my old army friends, General Fitz-John Porter. He recognized me, gave me a hearty greeting, and proceeded to address me as Major Allen, after the custom of by-gonedays. I permitted the conversation to go on for some time, and then said:
"Are you not aware, General, that the name of E. J. Allen, which I used during the war, was a fictitious one?"
He looked at me, as if to satisfy himself that I was not jesting, and then exclaimed:
"Fictitious! You are not in earnest, Major?"
I assured him that I was never more so.
"Why, I never suspected such a thing. What, then, is your true name?"
"Allan Pinkerton," I replied.
"Allan Pinkerton!" he ejaculated.
His astonishment knew no bounds, and he declared it was the first intimation he had ever had that Allan Pinkerton and Major Allen were one and the same person.
It was on the thirteenth of May that Timothy Webster left Cincinnati on his trip southward. He arrived at Louisville, Ky., late in the night, and remained there until the following day, when he pursued his course into the heart of that self-satisfied State which only desired to be "let alone."
It is not my purpose to give in detail all the events of Webster's journey, as there was much that would only prove tedious at this late day, though at that time regarded as of the utmost importance to the country. Shrewd, wide-awake, and keen as a blood-hound on the scent, he allowed nothing to escapehim, but quietly jotted down every item of intelligence that could possibly be of advantage to the Union army, and picked up many important points, which would have escaped the notice of a man of less detective experience and ability.
He stopped a day or two at Bowling Green, Ky., and then proceeded on to Clarkesville, Tenn. He made friends of all he met, and cleverly ingratiated himself into the good graces of those whom he believed might be of service to him. He was a "Hail, fellow! well met," "A prince of good fellows," a genial, jovial, convivial spirit, with an inexhaustible fund of anecdote and amusing reminiscences, and a wonderful faculty for making everybody like him. He partook of soldiers' fare in the rebel camp, shook hands warmly with raw recruits, joked and laughed with petty officers, became familiar with colonels and captains, and talked profoundly with brigadier-generals. He was apparently an enthusiastic and determined rebel, and in a few cunningly-worded sentences he would rouse the stagnant blood of his hearers till it fairly boiled with virtuous indignation against Yankees in general, and "Abe Linkin" in particular.
Webster's talent in sustaining aroleof this kind amounted to positive genius, and it was this that forced me to admire the man as sincerely as I prized his services. Naturally, he was of a quiet, reserved disposition, seldom speaking unless spoken to, and never betraying emotion or excitement under anypressure of circumstances. His face always wore that calm, imperturbable expression denoting a well-balanced mind and a thorough self-control, while the immobile countenance and close-set lips showed that he was naturally as inscrutable as the Sphinx. Many of his associates were of the opinion that he was cold and unfeeling, butIknew there could be no greater mistake than this;Iknew that a manlier, nobler heart never existed than that which beat within the broad breast of Timothy Webster; and I knew that, reserved and modest as he was, he was never wanting in courtesy, never derelict in his duty, never behind his fellows in acts of kindness and mercy.
It was when he was detailed for such operations as the one in question that his disposition underwent a complete metamorphosis. Then his reserve vanished, and he became the chatty, entertaining boon companion, the hero of the card-table, the story-teller of the bar-room, or the lion of the social gathering, as the exigencies of the case might require. He could go into a strange place and in one day surround himself with warm friends, who would end by telling him all he desired to know. In a life-time of varied detective experience, I have never met one who could more readily and agreeably adapt himself to circumstances.
Webster represented himself as a resident of Baltimore, and gave graphic accounts of the recent troubles in that city; of the unpleasant position inwhich the "friends of the cause" were placed by the proximity and oppression of Northern troops, and of the outraged feelings of the populace when the "Lincoln hirelings" marched through the streets of the Monumental City. His eyes seemed to flash with indignation during the recital, and it would have been difficult indeed to induce his audience to believe that he was acting a part, or that his heart was not with the South.
On the morning of his departure from Clarkesville quite a number of soldiers and citizens, who had become attached to him during his brief sojourn with them, accompanied him to the depot, shook him warmly by the hand at parting, and earnestly wished him God-speed. He told them all that he hoped to see them again soon, and waved them a smiling adieu from the platform of the car, as the train whirled him away toward Memphis.
As the train stopped on the east bank of the Tennessee river, and the passengers swarmed out of the cars, Webster noticed a man take the conductor aside and engage in earnest conversation with him for a few moments. This man was a dark-complexioned, sharp-visaged, long-haired individual, clad in civilian's garb, and wearing a broad-brimmed hat. There was an air of mystery about him which attracted more than a passing glance from the scout, and caused the latter to keep an eye on him thereafter.
The passengers were obliged to cross the river in a ferry-boat. The train going south was in waiting on the other side, and its conductor stood on the bank alone, making entries in his memorandum-book. As soon as the boat touched the land the man with the long hair and broad-brimmed hat sprang ashore and approached the conductor, to whom he began to talk in the same hurried, nervous manner that he had done to the one on the other side. As the time for starting approached, the mysterious stranger and the conductor walked toward the train together, conversing excitedly as they went.
"There's something up," thought Webster, as he boarded the train. "Perhaps that fellow is on the look-out for new-comers like myself; but we'll see whether he is sharp enough to catch a weasel asleep."
For the first twenty miles after leaving the Tennessee river, the road lay through an uncultivated region of swamps and heavy timber. At every station along the route uniformed men, heavy guns, car-loads of muskets and ammunition were seen, indicating general and active preparations for war, while the secession flag was flying in the breeze, and the music of fife and drum was frequently borne to the ear. At Humboldt, where the train arrived at four o'clock in the afternoon, they were delayed for some time, and Webster improved the opportunity to look around him and to procure his dinner. The man with the broad-brimmed hat seated himself almost oppositeWebster at table, who noticed that his restless, inquisitive eyes were kept busy scrutinizing every face that came within range of his vision. He did not address himself to any one during the progress of the repast, and after hurriedly satisfying his own appetite, he walked out upon the platform of the depot, where he stood intently watching the other passengers as they returned to the train.
Webster, as he crossed the platform, instinctively felt that those searching eyes were riveted upon him as if they would pierce him through, but he did not evince the slightest degree of trepidation or uneasiness under the ordeal. Assuming an air of quiet unconsciousness, he sauntered past the man without seeming to notice him, and entered the smoking-car, coolly lighted a cigar, drew a Nashville newspaper from his pocket, and settled himself to his reading. He saw no more of the mysterious stranger during the remainder of the journey, but on alighting from the train at the Memphis depot, the first object that met his gaze was the wearer of the broad-brimmed hat.
Arriving in Memphis at nine o'clock in the evening, Webster went directly to the Worsham House, where he intended to stay while in the city. While registering his name he observed a military officer in full uniform standing at his elbow, watching him closely as he wrote. Several other new arrivals placed their signatures after Webster, and he then noticedthat the officer was engaged in making a copy of names and addresses on a piece of paper.
While watching this proceeding, his attention was distracted by some one hastily entering the hotel office. It was his mysterious fellow-traveler, who, stepping into the center of the room, glanced quickly around, apparently looking for some particular face. The search was evidently successful, for, walking up to one of the men who had just arrived on the train from the North, he tapped him on the shoulder and beckoned him.
After a few moments' conversation, during which the new-comer appeared to be both surprised and frightened, the two left the hotel together and walked up the street arm in arm.
Two citizens who were lounging near the door had been interested spectators of this incident, and Webster heard one of them inquire:
"What does that mean?"
"It means that the stranger is under arrest," replied his companion.
"Under arrest? And who is the man who arrested him?"
"Oh, he is a member of the safety committee."
"But what crime has the stranger committed, that he should thus be taken into custody?"
"Nothing, perhaps; but the fact that he is a stranger from the North, is sufficient to mark him as an object of suspicion."
"Isn't that a little severe?"
"Severe? It's a necessity in these times. For my part, I am in for hanging every Northern man who comes here, unless he can give the most satisfactory proof that he is not a spy."
The rest of the conversation did not reach Webster's ear, and, being much fatigued by his day's journey, he soon retired, to seek that much needed rest which slumber only could afford.
He rose at an early hour in the morning, feeling much refreshed. On entering the dining-room he found it crowded with guests, the majority of whom wore the uniform and shoulder-straps of Confederate officers. The conversation around the table was upon the all-absorbing theme which at that time was uppermost in every mind, and the scout was both amused and edified by what he heard. He did not long remain a silent listener, but taking his cue at the proper moment he entered easily and naturally into the conversation himself, and his pleasing address and intelligent observations commanded at once the respectful attention of those around him.
After breakfast Webster determined to ascertain whether or not he was under the surveillance of the vigilance committee, and he accordingly left the hotel, and wended his way toward the post-office.
He had not proceeded far when he noticed a man who appeared to be following him on the opposite side of the street. Desiring to satisfy himself uponthis point he walked on for several blocks, and then dropped into a saloon. Remaining there a sufficient length of time for the man to pass from view, in case he did not stop in his onward course, he emerged from the saloon and retraced his steps toward the hotel. As he did so he noticed the stranger on the other side of the street, dogging him as before. This left no doubt in his mind that he was being shadowed, and he resolved to be guarded in his movements, to refrain from writing any reports or making any notes that could possibly betray him. He returned to the office and bar-room of the Worsham Hotel, and spent an hour or two reading and smoking. While thus occupied, three military officers entered and stood near the bar engaged in animated conversation. Webster sauntered toward them, and heard one of the trio—a man whom the others addressed as "Doctor"—remark emphatically:
"Yes, gentlemen, that is a true principle. It will not do to let a man set foot on Kentucky soil until the Northern troops disregard the neutrality of that State."
Catching the drift of the conversation, Webster stepped forward and said:
"I beg pardon, sir; will you permit me to ask one question?"
The three officers turned toward him, with expressions of mild surprise in their faces, and the Doctor replied:
"Certainly, sir; certainly."
"Do you suppose," added Webster, "that Kentucky will allow the Northern army to march through the State without showing fight?"
"Not by a jug-full," was the prompt response. "The moment the Northern army crosses the Ohio river, Kentucky will rise in arms and take sides with the South."
"If she doesn't," said Webster, with much apparent warmth, "she will prove herself unworthy of the respect of any true Southern men!"
The Doctor's face brightened up, and he laid his hand approvingly on the scout's shoulder.
"May I ask where you are from?"
"I was born in Kentucky and reared in Maryland," was the quiet reply, "and I am now direct from Baltimore."
"Baltimore!" ejaculated the whole trio in chorus; and the next moment were all shaking hands in the most vigorous fashion.
"Baltimore!" repeated the Doctor, his face red with his recent exertion. "My friend, we are always glad to meet a Baltimorean, for we know there is many a true man in that city who would help us if he could. May I ask your name, sir?"
"Webster—Timothy Webster."
"A devilish good name. Mine is Burton. My friends all call me Doctor Burton. Allow me to introduce you to Colonel Dalgetty and to Captain Stanley of the Arkansas Rifles."
The introduction was cordially acknowledged on both sides, and Webster then said:
"Gentlemen, I was about to call for a drink when I heard you speak of Kentucky. I am happy to know that there is still hopes for that State. Will you drink her health with me?"
And in the clinking of the glasses, and the quaffing of their favorite beverages, the new link of friendship was forged.
RUN DOWN BY CAVALRY.RUN DOWN BY CAVALRY.
Webster's new friends were men whom he believed he could use to good advantage, and he determined to improve the chance that had thrown him in contact with them. He found them not only very well informed, but disposed to be communicative, and he therefore applied the "pumping" process with all the skill at his command. He experienced no difficulty in making this mode of operation effectual, for these officers were exceedingly willing to air their knowledge for the benefit of their Baltimore friend, and enjoyed his frequent expressions of agreeable surprise at the extent of the preparations made by the people of the South to defend their rights.
Dr. Burton was the most conspicuous one of the group, from his very pompousness. He wore a superfluity of gorgeous gold lace on his uniform, and assumed the dignity of a major-general. He was a flabby-faced, bulbous-eyed individual, with a wonderful stomach for harboring liquor, and thatunceasing flow of spirits arising from a magnified sense of his own importance. It was evident, even upon a short acquaintance, that the doctor found his chief entertainment in listening to himself talk, a species of recreation in which he indulged with great regularity, sharing the pleasure with as many others as would grant him a hearing.
In Webster he found an attentive auditor, which so flattered his vanity that he at once formed a strong attachment for my operative, and placed himself on familiar and confidential terms with him.
"Webster, we've got to do some hard fighting in these parts, and that before we are many days older," said the Doctor, with a wise shake of the head.
"I think you are right," conceded the scout. "We must fight it out. From what you have told me, however, I am sure the Lincoln troops will find you fully prepared to give them a warm reception here."
"That they will, sir; that they will!" was the emphatic rejoinder. "We have one full regiment and four or five companies besides, at Camp Rector, and General Pillow has thirty-seven hundred men at the camp in the rear of Fort Harris, which is a little above us on this side of the river. We expect to move with him, and if there is an attack made upon us every man in the town will instantly become a soldier."
"Have you arms enough for all of them?"
"Arms? Let the Yankees count on our not having arms, and they will meet with a surprise party. In two hours' notice we can have from eight to ten thousand men ready to march."
"No doubt of it, Doctor; but how do you expect to get two hours' notice?"
"Lord bless you, Webster, we have men watching the movements of the Yankees at Cairo, and the minute they make a move we are notified. Then our signal gun is fired, and every man is mustered."
"A good arrangement, truly," said the detective quietly.
"You look as if you could do some hard fighting yourself, Mr. Webster," remarked Colonel Dalgetty.
The detective smiled.
"I have been fighting against great odds for the past two months in Baltimore. The last battle I fought was to get away from there with my life."
"Yes, and we are confounded glad to receive you here," exclaimed the enthusiastic Doctor, shaking Webster by the hand for the twentieth time. "Come, gentlemen, we must have another drink. Step up and nominate your 'pizen.'"
The glasses were filled, and some one proposed the toast: "Death to the Yankees!" Under his breath, however, the detective muttered, "Confusion to the rebels!" and drained his glass. The toast was no sooner drank than Lieutenant Stanley, who was evidently beginning to feel the influence of the liquor he had drank, took off his uniform hat and put it on Webster's head.
"Now, my dear fellow, you can consider yourself perfectly at home!" P. 171."Now, my dear fellow, you can consider yourself perfectly at home!" P. 171.
"Excuse me, Mr. Webster," he said, "I merely wish to see how you look in one of our hats." Then stepping back, he added: "By the gods, nothing could be more becoming! My dear fellow, you must have one by all means, if you stay among us."
Webster endeavored laughingly to object, but they all refused to accept "no" for an answer. So, finding it impossible to resist, he went with them to a neighboring hat store.
"Fit a hat to Mr. Webster's head—a hat just like mine," said Dr. Burton, to the proprietor; then turning to the scout, he added: "We will have you a cord and tassel of blue, as that will show that you are true to the cause, although you do not belong to the military."
The hatter produced a secession chapeau of the kind and size required, and Webster at once put it on, much to the delight of the Doctor, who slapped Webster familiarly on the shoulder, with the exclamation:
"Now, my dear fellow, you can consider yourself at home!"
"Perfectly at home," echoed Colonel Dalgetty.
"Henceforward you are one of us," put in the Lieutenant.
Webster thanked them cordially for their kindness,and promised to wear it in preference to any other. As they stepped outside of the store, however, all thoughts of the new hat were temporarily driven from his mind, for, standing on the sidewalk, within a few yards of the store door, and looking directly at him, was the identical individual whom he had noticed on the train, who had arrested the Northern stranger the night before.
The gaze which this vigilant agent of the safety committee now bent upon Webster was full of dark suspicion, but after one swift glance at him the detective turned away with an air of perfect composure and unconcern, and walked off between his companions. To say that he felt some uneasiness at this evidence that he was still being closely followed, would be only to tell the truth. His first impulse was to speak to his companions about it, but a second thought decided him not to mention the matter to any one, nor to betray by word or act that he had the slightest hint of a suspicion that he was being watched.
The three officers introduced Webster to a large number of soldiers and citizens, and before the day was over he had quite an extended circle of acquaintance in Memphis. Dr. Burton, who had conceived a fancy for him, as sudden as it was pronounced, assumed a sort of paternal control over Webster, hovering about him with an air of protection and solicitude, and drawing the scout's arm through his when they walked together.
That afternoon, Webster, desiring to be alone for awhile, hired one of the hackmen at the door of the hotel to drive him three or four miles into the country. He went down the river road, and as it was a beautiful day, he enjoyed himself admiring the picturesque scenery along the way.
Just below the town, on the bank of the river, he found a small encampment of soldiers with a battery, who were on the lookout for boats coming up the river, and during his ride he saw several encampments of the same nature. After spending several hours inspecting the fortifications along the river, Webster returned to the hotel, which he reached about dark.
The next day Doctor Burton and several of his military friends sought out the detective, and urged him to go with them to Camp Rector.
"Gentlemen, I am at your service," said Webster, earnestly. "I think I would enjoy a visit to your camp to-day above all things."
They went to the levee, and at ten o'clock were on the boat, steaming up the river toward Mound City, where Camp Rector was located.
A distance of some six or seven miles, passing on their way up, various objects of interest, among them Fort Harris, which was merely an embankment thrown up, to answer the purpose. Arriving at Mound City, the party disembarked and walked to the hotel. After dinner the party visited the camp-ground, a distance of about one-fourth of a mile from the hotel,and here Dr. Burton and the other officers took much pride in showing Webster around. They talked volubly about the unexampled bravery of the Confederate soldier; had much to say on the subject of Southern chivalry as opposed to Northern braggadocio; told how well they were prepared to meet the onslaught of the enemy; and found a special delight in exhibiting to the visitor a portion of General Bragg's artillery, which they had in the camp.
After that they seated themselves around a table in one of the larger tents, to rest and enjoy the grateful shade, as it was a warm and sunny afternoon. While engaged in the most bombastic utterances of their prowess, and of the wonderful exploits that might be expected of the Southern army, their conversation was interrupted by a shadow falling across the strip of sunlight that streamed in through the opening of the tent. Every one around the table glanced up, and there at the entrance stood the man with the broad-brimmed hat! The intruder did not tarry a moment, but turned and walked away. Evidently he had stopped only to look in; but in that single instant he had shot a keen, and apparently satisfactory, glance at Timothy Webster, which was fortunately not observed by any one save the detective himself.
"That fellow is one of the safety committee," said Dr. Burton, filling his glass.
"He appears to be looking for some one," remarked Lieutenant Stanley.
"Reckon he is," answered the Doctor. "He's always looking for some one. And, by-the-bye, those chaps are doing a heap of good for the cause just now. A Northern man stands no show for his life in these parts if the safety committee spots him. They hang 'em on suspicion."
"That's right," said Webster, coolly. "I believe in hanging every Northern man that comes prowling around. They don't deserve a trial, for they have no right here anyway."
But cool and collected as Webster outwardly appeared, it must be admitted that he was inwardly ill at ease. There was now no longer the shadow of a doubt in his mind that this long-haired agent of the safety committee was following him and watching his every movement, and that any attempt on his part to return to the North would betray him and cause his arrest.
"The only reason I have not already been arrested," mused the scout, "is because they are not sure whether I came from the North or not. They merelysuspect, and are watching me to see if I undertake to return northward. Such an act would confirm their suspicions, and I would be arrested and probably put to death as a spy. It stands me in hand to give them the slip before I take the back track."
After spending a very pleasant day at the camp, he returned to Memphis on the latest boat that night, informing Dr. Burton that he was going to Chattanoogato look up a brother whom he had not seen in twelve years.
"You'll come back?" said the Doctor, as he wrung his hand.
"Oh, certainly," was the cheerful response. "I'll be with you again before long."
Colonel Gaines, of the artillery, who heard this conversation, now grasped the scout's hand.
"Webster, you'd make a good soldier," he said, bluntly. "Hang me if I wouldn't like to have you on my force."
Webster smiled good-naturedly.
"I have some family business to attend to before I could think of entering the army. After that I may remind you of your remark."
"All right," said the Colonel, "any time that you are ready, come; I will make room for you."
On his way down the river Webster found, to his relief, that the man with the broad-brimmed hat was not aboard the boats. He now had a hope of being able to give his shadow the slip by leaving Memphis on early train in the morning.
Arriving in sight of their destination, the passengers on the ferry-boat were surprised to see that the levee was crowded with people. Shortly after, they learned that this unusual gathering was caused by the capture of the steamboat "Prince of Wales" by the rebels.
Webster went to the Worsham Hotel, where hespent the night, and at five o'clock in the morning, after making a few preparations, and dispatching an early breakfast, he repaired to the depot. Arriving there he looked carefully about on all sides, but saw no one who seemed to take any interest in his movements. "So far, so good," he muttered, as he boarded the train; and the next minute he was leaving the scene of his most recent exploits with the speed of the wind.
He was himself too shrewd and cunning to feel absolutely sure that he was not followed. His own experience in the art of "shadowing" told him he had not yet escaped the vigilant eyes of the safety committee, but he resolved to elude them if it was possible to do so.
Innumerable troops were being transported at this time, and the train was crowded with soldiers. Webster amused himself by making the acquaintance of the officers, and skillfully drawing on their fund of information, until the train arrived at Grand Junction, where he decided to change cars for Jackson, Tennessee.
Accordingly, he abandoned the Chattanooga cars and boarded the north-bound train, which was in waiting at the junction, and again he was whirled away across the verdure-clad country, this time toward the "land of the free." But no sooner was the train well under way than something which came under Webster's observation removed from his mind alldoubt as to whether he would be permitted to pursue his journey unmolested. He occupied a seat in the forward part of the car, and on turning carelessly away from the window after gazing out upon the landscape for awhile, he was somewhat surprised at seeing an individual standing on the front platform of the car, looking in through the glass door.
It was a person whose face and figure had already become quite familiar to him, being no other than the man who had so persistently followed him for the past few days.
"He seems determined not to let me get away," thought the scout; but neither in his face nor manner did he betray any of the disappointment he felt.
He noticed that his pursuer was not alone this time, but was accompanied by another person—an ill-looking man of herculean proportions—with whom he conversed in an earnest, confidential way.
When the train arrived at Jackson, Webster stepped out upon the platform of the depot, and the two agents of the safety committee did the same. The conductor stood near by, and Webster spoke to him in a tone which he meant his shadows to hear, asking:
"How soon will there be a train for Humboldt?"
"In twenty minutes," replied the conductor.
"Do you know anything about the hotels there?" inquired the scout. "I've got to stop two or three days in the town, and it's a strange place to me."
The conductor recommended him to a good house convenient to the depot, and thanking him for the information, Webster turned away. He had spoken in a tone that he knew must have been distinctly heard by his enemies, and he hoped this bit of stratagem would have the desired effect.
He boarded the train for Humboldt, and the brace of shadows promptly followed him, taking seats in the same car.
While the train was speeding on its way, Webster was aroused from a reverie by the voice of a woman saying:
"Pardon me, sir; may I occupy a portion of this seat?"
He looked up; a tall, very respectable looking lady was standing in the aisle, and he saw in an instant that she was the person who had addressed him.
"Certainly, madam, certainly;" he replied; and quickly made room for her.
She sat down beside him, and then, to his great surprise, she began to talk to him in a low, earnest tone, without once turning her face toward him.
"You are going to Humboldt?" she inquired.
"I am," he answered, surprised at the question.
"You are a Northern man?"
"Madam!" A suspicion flashed, lightning-like, across his mind.
"Believe me, I am not an enemy," the lady wenton, "I have been sitting in the rear part of this car I heard two men talking, and have reason to believe they were speaking about you. They said they would stop at the same hotel with you in Humboldt, and keep a close watch over you, and if you attempt to go northward they will arrest you, take you back to Memphis, and deal with you as they would with any Northern spy. I advise you to be very careful, sir, for your life depends upon it."
The train by this time was approaching Humboldt, and the lady arose and disappeared before the astonished detective could tender his thanks for the warning. She was destined to remain an utter stranger to him for all time to come, for he never heard of her afterwards. As they entered the depot, Webster passed out at the rear end of the car, and he noticed, with a smile of satisfaction, that his attendant shadows were making their way out at the front. As he stepped from the car he noticed a pile of baggage near him, and quickly stepping behind this, he watched the movements of the two men. Apparently fully satisfied that their game would be safely bagged at the hotel, they left the depot and walked rapidly away in the direction of the public-house. His ruse worked to a charm. A violent shower happened to be passing over at this time, and it was only natural for the two "safety" men to suppose that Webster had stopped to seek shelter in the depot for a few minutes.
The express train from Memphis was soon due, and as it came dashing in "on time," Webster jumped aboard, and was on his way toward Louisville, smiling in his sleeve as he thought of those two crafty foxes, whose cunning had overreached themselves, patiently awaiting his arrival at the hotel in Humboldt.
Before crossing the Kentucky line, Webster put his rebel hat out of sight, and once more donned the one he had worn from the North.
The remainder of his journey was made without incident, and in due time he arrived in Cincinnati, and reported to me.