Si Klegg, Book 3

  Produced by David Widger

  SI KLEGG

  SI AND SHORTY MEET MR. ROSENBAUM, THE SPY, WHO RELATES HIS ADVENTURES

  By John McElroy

  BOOK No. 3

  PUBLISHED BY THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE, WASHINGTON, D. C.

  SI AND SHORTY AS MOUNTED INFANTRY]

  (Chapter VIII.)

  PUBLISHED BY

  THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE CO.

  WASHINGTON, D. C.

  SECOND EDITION

  COPYRIGHT 1910

  Contents:

  PREFACECHAPTER I. OUT ON PICKETCHAPTER II. ROSENBAUM, THE SPYCHAPTER III. THE DEACON GOES HOMECHAPTER IV. A SPY'S EXPERIENCESCHAPTER V. THE BOYS GO SPYINGCHAPTER VI. LETTER FROM HOMECHAPTER VII. CORN PONE AND BUTTERMILKCHAPTER VIII. A PERIOD OF SELF-DISGUSTCHAPTER IX. SHORTY GETS A LETTERCHAPTER X. TRADING WITH THE REBSCHAPTER XI. SHORTY'S CORRESPONDENTCHAPTER XII. THE BAN ON WET GOODSCHAPTER XIII. THE JEW SPY WRITESCHAPTER XIV. SHORTY HAS AN ADVENTURE WITH SICHAPTER XV. SHORTY NEARLY GOT MARRIEDCHAPTER XVI. AN UNEXPECTED MARRIAGECHAPTER XVII. GATHERING INFORMATIONCHAPTER XVIII. THE JEW SPY AGAIN

  PREFACE

  "Si Klegg, of the 200th Ind., and Shorty, his Partner," were born yearsago in the brain of John McElroy, Editor of The National Tribune.

  These sketches are the original ones published in The National Tribune,revised and enlarged somewhat by the author. How true they are to natureevery veteran can abundantly testify from his own service. Really, onlythe name of the regiment was invented. There is no doubt that there wereseveral men of the name of Josiah Klegg in the Union Army, and who didvaliant service for the Government. They had experiences akin to, ifnot identical with, those narrated here, and substantially every manwho faithfully and bravely carried a musket in defense of the bestGovernment on earth had sometimes, if not often, experiences of whichthose of Si Klegg are a strong reminder.

  The Publishers.

  THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED

  TO THE RANK AND FILE

  OF THE GRANDEST ARMY EVER MUSTERED FOR WAR.

  CHAPTER I. OUT ON PICKET

  THE BOYS SHOW THE DEACON A NEW WRINKLE IN THE CULINARY ART.

  SOME days later, Si had charge of a picket-post on the Readyville Pike,near Cripple Deer Creek. The Deacon went with them, at their request,which accorded with his own inclinations, The weather was getting warmerevery day, which made him fidgety to get back to his own fields, thoughSi insisted that they were still under a foot of snow in Indiana. Buthe had heard so much about picket duty that, next to battle, it was thething he most wanted to see. Abraham Lincoln was left behind to care forthe "house." He had been a disappointment so far, having developed nostrong qualities, except for eating and sleeping, of which he could dounlimited quantities.

  "No use o' takin' him out on picket," observed Shorty, "unless we kingit a wagon to go along and haul rations for him. I understand now whythese rebels are so poor; the niggers eat up everything they kin raise.I'm afraid, Deacon, he'll make the Wabash Valley look sick when you turnhim loose in it."

  "I guess my farm kin stand him," said the Deacon proudly. "It stood Siwhen he was a growin' boy, though he used, to strain it sometimes."

  They found a comfortable fence-corner facing{16} south for their "tent,"which they constructed by making a roof of cedar boughs resting on arail running from one angle to another. They laid more boughs down inthe corner, and on this placed their blankets, making a bed which theDeacon pronounced very inviting and comfortable. They built a fire infront, for warmth and for cooking, and so set up housekeeping in a veryneat and soldier-like way.

  MR. KLEGG ENJOYS SOLID COMFORT. 16]

  The afternoon passed without special incident. Shorty came in with acouple of chickens, but the{17} Deacon had learned enough to repressany questions as to where and how he got them. He soon became moreinterested in his preparations for cooking them. He had built a big firein a hole in the ground, and piled a quantity of dry cedar on this. Thenhe cut off the heads and legs of the chickens, and, getting some mudfrom the side of the road, proceeded to cover each, feathers and all,with a coating nearly an inch thick.

  "What in the world do you mean by that, Shorty?" asked the Deacon insurprise.

  "He's all right. Pap," assured Si. "He'll show you a new wrinkle inchicken-fixin' that you kin teach mother when you go home. She knowsmore about cookin' than any other woman in the world, but I'll bet she'snot up to this dodge."

  The fire had by this time burned down to a heap of glowing embers. Theboys scraped a hole in these, laid on it their two balls of mud, thencarefully covered them with live coals and piled on a little more wood.

  "I'll say right now," said the Deacon, "that I don't think much o' thatway. Why didn't you take their feathers off and clean out their innards?Seems to me that's a nasty way."

  "Wait and see," said Shorty sententiously.

  Si had mixed some meal into a dough in the half-canteens he andShorty carried in their haversacks. He spread this out on a piece ofsheet-iron, and propped it up before the fire. In a little while it wasnicely browned over, when Si removed it from the sheet-iron, turnedit over, and browned the other side. He repeated this until he hada sufficiency of{18} "hoe cakes" for their supper. A kettle of good,strong coffee had been boiling on the other side of the fire while thiswas going on. Then they carefully raked the embers off, and rolled outtwo balls of hard-baked clay. Waiting for these to cool a little, theybroke them. The skin and feathers came off with the pieces and revealeddeliciously savory, sweet meat, roasted just to a turn. The intestineshad shriveled up with the heat into little, hard balls, which werethrown away.

  "Yum--yum--yum," said Shorty, tearing one of the chickens in two, andhanding a piece to the Deacon, while Si gave him a sweet, crisp hoe cakeand a cup of strong coffee. "Now, this's what you might call livin'.Never beat that cookin' in any house that had a roof. Only do that whenyou've stars in the roof of your kitchen."

  "It certainly is splendid," admitted the Deacon. "I don't think Mariacould've done better."

  It was yet light when they finished their supper, filled their pipes,and adjusted themselves for a comfortable smoke. One of the men cameback and said:

  "Corporal, there's a rebel on horseback down the road a little ways whoseems to be spying on us. We've noticed him for some little time. Hedon't come up in good range, and we haven't fired at him, hopin' he'dcome closer. Better come and take a look at him."

  "Don't do anything to scare him off," said Si. "Keep quiet. Me andShorty'll sneak down through the field, out of sight, and git him."

  They picked up their guns and slipped out under{19} the cover of theundergrowth to where they could walk along the fence, screened by theheavy thicket of sumach. Catching the excitement of the occasion, theDeacon followed them at a little distance.

  Without discovery Si and Shorty made their way to a covert within aneasy 50 yards of where the horseman sat rather uneasily on a fine,mettled animal. They got a good look at him. He was a young, slenderman, below medium hight, with curly, coalblack hair, short whiskers, ahooked nose, and large, full eyes. He wore a gray suit of ratherbetter make and material than was customary in the rebel army. He hada revolver in his belt and a carbine slung to his saddle, but showed noimmediate intention of using either. His right hand rested on his thigh,and his eyes were intently fixed on the distant picket-post.

  "A rebel scout," whispered Si. "Shall we knock him over, and then orderhim to surrender, or halt him first, and then shoot?"

  "He can't git away," said Shorty. "I have him kivered. You kivver hishoss's head. Then call him down."

  Si drew his sights fine on the horse's head and yelled:

  "Surrender, there, you dumbed rebel."


  "SURRENDER, THERE, YOU DUMBED REBEL." 21]

  The man gave a quick start, a swift glance at the blue uniforms, andinstantly both hands went up.

  "That is all right, boys. Don't shoot. I'm a friend," he called in astrong German accent.

  "Climb down off o' that boss, and come here, and do it mighty sudden,"called out Si, with his finger still on the trigger.{20}

  The horse became restive at the sound of strange voices, but the mansucceeded in dismounting, and taking his reins in his hand, led thehorse up to the fence.

  "Very glad to see you, boys," said he, surveying their blue garmentswith undisguised satisfaction, and putting out his other hand to shake.

  "Take off that revolver, and hand it here," ordered the wary Shorty,following the man with the muzzle of his gun. The man slipped his armthrough the reins, unbuckled his revolver, and handed it to Shorty. Sijumped over the fence and seized the carbine.

  "Who are you, and where did you come from?" asked Si, starting the manup the road toward the post.

  "What rechiment do you belong to?" asked the stranger, warily.

  "We belong to Co. Q, 200th Injianny, the best regiment in Gen.Rosecrans's army," answered Si proudly, that the captive mightunderstand where the honor of his taking belonged.

  "That is all right," said the stranger, with an air of satisfaction."The 200th Indianny is a very good regiment. I saw them whip JohnMorgan's cavalry at Green River. Clumsy farmer boys, but shoot like borndevils."

  "But who are you, and where did you come from?" repeated Si impatiently.

  "I'm all right. I'm Levi Rosenbaum of Gen. Rosecrans's secret service. Igot some news for him."

  "You have?" said Si suspiciously. "Why didn't you ride right in andtell it to him? What've you{21} bin hangin' around here all afternoon,watchin' our post for?"

  "I wasn't sure you was there. I was told that the Yankee pickets wasgoing to be pushed out to Cripple Deer Creek to-day, but I didn't knowit for sure. I was afraid that the rebels was there yet. Jim Jones, ofthe secret service, had agreed to come out this afternoon and wave aflag if it was all{22} right. I was waiting for his sign. But he isprobably drunk. He always gets so when he reaches camp."

  The Deacon joined them in the road, and gave a searching glance at theprisoner.

  "Ain't you a Jew?" he inquired presently. "Ain't your name Rosenbaum?Didn't you go through Posey County, Ind., a year or two ago, with awagon, sellin' packs o' cloth to the farmers?"

  "I'm an American citizen," said the man proudly, "the same as the restof you. My religion is Hebrew. I don't know and don't care what yourreligion is. Every man has the religion that suits him. My name isRosenbaum. I did sell cloth in Posey County, unt all over Indianny. Itwas good cloth, too, unt I sold it at a bargain."

  "It certainly was good cloth, and cheap," admitted the Deacon. "What inthe world are you doin' down here in them clothes?"

  "I'm doing just what these men are doing here in their cloze," answeredRosenbaum. "I'm trying to serve the country. I'm doing it different fromthem, because I'm built different from them. I hope I'm doing it well.But I'm awfully hungry. Got anything to eat? Just a cup of coffee and acracker? Don't care for any pork."

  "Yes, we'll give you something to eat," said Shorty. "I think there'ssome of our chicken left. You'll find that good."

  "How did you cook that?" said Rosenbaum, looking at the tempting morselsuspiciously.

  Shorty explained.{23}

  "Thanks; I can't eat it," said Rosenbaum with a sigh. "It ain't kosher."

  "What the devil's that?" asked Shorty.

  "It's my religion. I can't explain. Send for the Officer of the Guard totake me to Headquarters," answered Rosenbaum, sipping his coffee.