that either of them had ever
known. Their thoughts were lightning-like in rapidity. The rebel muzzles
were not a rod away, their aim was true, and it{102} would be madness to
risk their fire, for it meant certain death.

The slightest move toward resistance was suicide.

Si gave a deep groan, and up went his hands at the same moment with
Shorty's.

The rebels rushed out of the clump of willows behind which they had
crept up on the boys, and surrounded them. Two snatched up their guns,
and the others began pulling off their haversacks and other personal
property as their own shares of the booty. In the midst of this, Si
looked around, and saw the woman standing near calmly knitting.

"You ain't so afeared o' rheumatism all at once," he said bitterly.

"My rheumatiz has spells, young man, same ez other people's," she
answered, pulling one of the needles out, and counting the stitches with
it. "Sometimes it is better, and sometimes it is wuss. Jest now it is a
great deal better, thankee. I only wisht I could toll the whole Yankee
army to destruction ez easy ez you wuz. My, but ye walked right in,
like the fly to the spider. I never had nothin' do my rheumatiz so much
good."

And she cackled with delight. "When you git through," she continued,
addressing the leader of the rebels, "come up to the house, and I'll
have some dinner cooked for ye. I know ye're powerful tired an'
hungry. I s'pose nothin' need be cooked for them," and she pointed
her knitting-needle contemptuously at Si and Shorty. "Ole Satan will be
purvidin' fur them. I'll take these along to cook fur ye."{103}

She gathered up the dead chickens and stalked back to the house.

"Ef we're gwine t' shoot they'uns le's take they'uns over thar on the
knoll, whar they'uns won't spile nothin'," said one evil-looking man,
who had just ransacked Si's pockets and appropriated everything in them.
"Hit'd be too bad t' kill they'uns here right in sight o' the house."

"Le'me see them letters, Bushrod;" said the leader, snatching a package
of letters and Annabel's picture out of the other's hand. "Mebbe thar's
some news in them that the Captain'd like to have."

Si gnashed his teeth as he saw the cherished missives rudely torn open
and scanned, and especially when the ambrotype case was opened and
Annabel's features made the subject of coarse comment. The imminent
prospect of being murdered had a much lighter pang.

While the letters and ambrotype were being looke