The prisoners had been watching the Captain and his men with greatest
anxiety. They now saw Si with his squad take the 'Squire. Mrs. Bolster
and Hackberry off to one side, while the Captain placed the remainder of
the prisoners in the center of his company and started back to camp with
them.{227}

There was something in this separation that terrified even Mrs. Bolster,
who stopped railing and began to look frightened.

"What are yo'uns goin' to do with we'uns?" she inquired hoarsely of Si.

"You'll find out soon enough," said Si significantly. "Set down there
on that log and think about what you deserve. You might put in any spare
time you have in doing some big repentin'."

Hackberry began to whine and beg for mercy, but Shorty ordered him to
keep silent.

"I want you to understand," said the 'Squire, "that I'm a regerlarly
elected and qualified Magistrate o' the State o' Tennessee; that I'm
not subjeck to military laws, and if any harm comes to me you'll have to
answer for it to the State o' Tennessee."

"Blast the State o' Tennessee," said Shorty contemptuously. "When we git
through there won't be no State o' Tennessee. It'll be roasting in the
same logheap with South Caroliny and Virginny, with Jeff Davis brilin'
in the middle."

"Boys," ordered Si, "a couple of you look around the house and see if
you can't find a mattock and shovel."

Terrible fears assailed the three unhappy prisoners at this. What could
a mattock and shovel be wanted for but to dig their graves?

Shorty stepped over a little distance to a large clump of "red-sticks."
These grow in long wands of brilliant red, as straight as a corn-stalk,
and slenderer. They are much used about the farms of the South for rods
for rough measurement. He cut one off about six feet long and stripped
off its leaves.{228}

The anxious eyes of the prisoners followed every movement.

Two of the boys appeared with an old mattock and shovel.

"Guess you'd better dig right over there," said Si, indicating a little
bare knoll.

"Nothin' else's ever bin planted there. At least nothin's ever come up.
The chances are agin their comin' up if we plant 'em there."

"Stand up," said Shorty, approaching Hackberry with the bright crimson
rod in his hand. "I'm goin' to measure you for a grass-green suit
that'll last you till Gabriel blows his horn."

Hackberry gave a howl of terror. The 'Squire and Mrs. Bolster began a
clamor of protests.

"Don't fuss," said Sh