e is
marching for there. We have had to split this freight up into two
sections--and t'other section is a few miles behind. Don't worry. It'll be
here soon. But, look here, sir! You'll never be able to reach Beauregard.
General Mitchell will get you long before you are near Corinth."

"Pooh!" replied Andrews. "Mitchell may have taken Huntsville, but he can't
stay there. Beauregard has, no doubt, sent him flying by this time. And,
anyway, I'm bound to obey orders from Richmond, come what may."

"I wish you luck, sir," said the freight conductor, who was impressed by
the authoritative bearing of Andrews, and believed the spy to be some
Confederate officer of high rank.

The leader returned to the cab. It was still surrounded by the curious
idlers.

"This is what I call pretty bad railroad management," he grumbled, loud
enough to be heard by the Kingstonians. "This line should be kept clear
when it's necessary to get army supplies quickly from place to place. What
are fifty freight trains compared to powder for the troops?"

The minutes passed slowly; it seemed as if that second freight train would
never come. At last a dull, rumbling sound on the track gave warning of
the approach of the second section. In a few moments the heavily-laden
cars, drawn by a large engine, had glided by "The General," down the main
track. The men in the cab gave unconscious sighs of relief. Now they could
move onward. But what was it that the sharp eyes of George detected? Yes,
there could be no mistake. At the end of the second freight train was
another red flag.

"Look!" he whispered. Andrews saw the flag, and turned white.

"How many more trains are we to wait for?" he said.

After regaining his composure he left the engine, to seek the conductor of
the new train. He was back again in five minutes.

"Well?" asked George.

"I find from the conductor that there's still another section behind him,"
explained Andrews. "The Confederate commander at Chattanooga fears the
approach of General Mitchell and has ordered all the rolling stock of the
railroad to be sent south to Atlanta. The new train should be here in ten
minutes."

In the meantime the people around the station had all heard of the danger
which threatened Chattanooga from the Union army. The train-dispatcher
came running over to the engine, and doffed his cap to Andrews.

"It ain't none of my business," he said, with supreme indifference to any
rules of grammar, "but they