OUNTED INFANTRY 117]

The rebels looked back, held up their hands, and said imploringly:

"Don't shoot, Mister. We'uns give up. We'uns air taylored."

"Come back up here, one by one," commanded Si,{118} "and go to our rear.
Hold on to your guns. Don't throw 'em away. We ain't afraid of 'em."

One by one the rebels extricated their horses from the mire with more
or less difficulty and filed back. Si kept his gun on those in the
quagmire, while Shorty attended to the others as they came back. Co. Q
was coming to his assistance as fast as the boys could march.

What was the delight of the boys to recognize in their captives the
squad which had captured them. The sanguinary Bushrod was the first to
come back, and Si had to restrain a violent impulse to knock him off
his horse with his gun-barrel. But he decided to settle with him when
through with the present business.

By the time the rebels were all up, Co. Q had arrived on the scene. As
the prisoners were being disarmed and put under guard, Si called out to
Capt. McGillicuddy:

"Captain, one o' these men is my partickler meat. I want to 'tend to
him."

"All right. Corporal," responded the Captain, "attend to him, but don't
be too rough on him. Remember that he is an unarmed prisoner."

Si and Shorty got down off their horses, and approached Bushrod, who
turned white as death, trembled violently, and began to beg.

"Gentlemen, don't kill me," he whined. "I'm a poor man, an' have a
fambly to support. I didn't mean nothin' by what I said. I sw'ar't' Lord
A'mighty I didn't."

"Jest wanted to hear yourself talk--jest practicin' your voice," said
Shorty sarcastically, as he took the{119} man by the shoulder and pulled
him off into the bush by the roadside. "Jest wanted to skeer us, and see
how fast we could run. Pleasant little pastime, eh?" "And them things
you said about a young lady up in Injianny," said Si, clutching him by
the throat.

[Illustration: BUSHROD PRAYS FOR HIS LIFE 119]

"I want to wring your neck jest like a chicken's. What'd you do with her
picture and letters?"

Si thrust his hand unceremoniously into Bushrod's pocket and found the
ambrotype of Annabel. A brief glance showed him that it was all right,
and he gave a sigh of satisfaction, which showed some amelioration of
temper toward the captive.{120 }

"What'd you do with them letters?" Si demanded fiercely.

"Ike has 'em," said Bushrod.

"You've got my shoes on, you brindle whelp," sa