say Mitchell is almost at Chattanooga--and
you'll never get through to Corinth."

Andrews assumed an air of contemptuous superiority.

"I happen to know more of General Mitchell's movements than you do," he
said, "And, what's more, no Confederate officer takes orders from a
railroad employee."

"I didn't mean any offense," answered the train-dispatcher.

"Then go back and see that the switches are ready for me to move on the
instant the next freight gets here," ordered the leader. The young man
walked away, with a nod of assent.

"He talks proud enough," he thought; "he must be a relation of Jefferson
Davis, from his airs."

After the dispatcher had gone, Andrews whispered to George: "We ought to
let the boys in the car know the cause of our detention--and warn them
that in case of anything going wrong in our plans they must be prepared to
fight for their lives. Could you manage to get word to them without
attracting suspicion?"

The boy made no verbal answer. But as he left the cab and vaulted to the
ground, his looks showed that he understood what was wanted, and proposed
to execute the commission. After sauntering among the men who stood near
the engine, he crossed the track of the siding, directly in front of "The
General's" headlight, and soon leaned, in a careless attitude, against the
car in which so many of his companions were waiting. He was now on the
opposite side of the track from the Kingstonians, but directly alongside
the main track, and in full view from the station.

George began, in a very low tone, to whistle a few bars from "The Blue
Bells of Scotland." It was a tune he had often indulged in during his
travels from the Union camp. As he finished there came a bark of
recognition from Waggie, and a slight stir in the car.

"Are you there, Watson?" asked the boy, under his breath. "Can you hear
me? If you can, scratch on the wall."

There was a moment's pause, and the faint sound of footsteps was heard
within the car. Then came an answering scratch.

George went on, in the same tone, as he leaned against the car, and
apparently gazed into space: "Andrews wants you--to know--that we're
waiting--till some freight trains--get in--from Chattanooga. But if
anything--should happen--before we--can get away--be ready to fight. Keep
Waggie from barking--if you can."

Another scratching showed that Watson had heard and understood. But Waggie
began to bark again. George was filled with vexation. "Wh