Issued Weekly by the Dike Book Company, 37 Vandewater Street. Subscription Five, f 5.50 per y ir. Entered at the New York Post Office as second-class matter, April. 1 Yol. HI.— No. 8. Sew York, May 23, 1896. Prisel "Cents! GENERAL DIXON'S BOY AIDE ; OR, NED TRINKNER IN THE ARMY. By LIEUT. W. ATKINSON . Author of "The Twins' Struggles," "At Bay," "Down the Mississippi," Etc. 'THEN YOU ACKNOWLEDGE YOU STOLE THE BIRDS, CHUCK"?" "NO, SAH; I HEAR MY NAME CALL', SAH, DIS YER WAY, « CHUCK, CHUCK. CHUCK, AN' WHEN I WENT IN DEY ALL COME TO DIS YER NIGGAH." GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. GEN. DTZON'S BOY AIDE; Kerf Trinhntr in the Army* BY LIEUTENANT ATKINSON. CHAPTER I. THE MOCK BATTLE. Within two months after the bombard- ment of Fort Sumter every boy in Mug- gletown had declared for one side or the other. There had been more scuffles in the school-yard, more wrestling-matches and free fights among the boys of Muggletown in a few weeks than the oldest inhabit- ant remembered in all his lifetime before. Through it all.^the lads were good-na- tured and full of honest, healthy fun. They were thorough boys. In their dealings with each other they were honorable. The Rebel boys were in a minority, so when they proposed a regular battle, which challenge the Union boys accepted, they agreed on the following terms: The Rebels were to build a fort at the top of a steep hill. This fort they were to hold against the Federal army of nearly a hundred boys, who were to march up the hill and, if possible, carry the fort by storm. They had no arms but their own arms, which Nature had given them. Those, I assure you, they knew how to use to good advantage. The Rebels numbered less than a score; but they were tough fellows, and well able to withstand a scrimmage. Baug! It was the small cannon in the fort, loaded with a blank charge of powder. It was fired by the Rebel leader, Charley Stiles, and was the signal for the Union army to begin the assault. They stood in a close column at the river-side, commanded by'as bright and plucky a lad as ever drew breath. His name was Ned Trinkner. and he had just passed his fifteenth year. Charge!'' lie shouted, and as the solid company of lads moved up the steep hill- side it would have made some old veter- an's heart good could he have locked on. Bang! It was the cannon booming a thunder- ing defiance. "Double quick, boys!" At this order from their leader, the lads bent themselves almost double to climb the steep ascent. They worked like heroes. Bang! That sounded like the cannon, and y?t it was somewhat sharper. Ah! What was that? "Halt!" i A boy in that company of one hundred lads had fallen to the ground. "Jemmy Sheldon!" muttered one of his comrades who stood over him. "Give him a chance to breathe. 1 ' said Ned Trinkner. "Stand aside!" "Unbutton his vest," said another. "Fan him with your hat." " Go fetch him a drink." "Raise his head." "Where's your ambulance, boys?" This last remark was made by a voice entirely strange to all the hoys. It was indeed a stranger: a man of per- haps forty years, who had sauntered up while the boys gathered round their fal- len comrade. "Good for you, stranger," said one of the lads. "Ned, hadn't we better harry up and make a stretcher?" " Yes," replied Ned. "Make one of some maple branches, and four of you carry poor Jemmy to Doctor Slee's. Look lively, now. Sam Richards, you take charge of Jemmy." The boys all did without a question or a murmur just as Ned commanded. They had got so well drilled that already they looked naturally to Ned as their leader. They even stood there as he had halted them, without attempting to advance higher up the hill. As to the Rebels in the fort, they sup- posed their assailants were up to some maneuvers, and silently stayed where they were. As the little cavalcade moved off with poor Jemmy Sheldon on the rude stretcher, another volley was fired from the cannon as a sort of reminder. "Great Heavens!" said Ned; "can't those fellows see there is an accident? I must go up and tell them to let ap. "Boys," he added, as he made a flag of truce by tying his handkerchief to ;v twig, '• stay here while I go up and see what caused that shock to poor Jemmv. They couldn't have loaded the cannon, surely." As Ned hurried along the stranger sauntered after him, muttering to him- self. What he said, was this: "Darned green chumps of bovs! Couldn't even tell that the kid was stone dead! He'll be a nice surprise for the doctor and for his mother, I guess! A pretty good shot— but not good enough. I tried my best, too, to pick off that young Trinkner! No matter, my time will come'" m GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. CHAPTER II. A FATAL SHOT. "What's the trouble, Ned?" asked the commander of the fort, as Trinkner ap- proached with his white flag. "Trouble enough,'' replied Ned. "Jem- my Sheldon is badly hurt." "How?" "That's what I can't just tell. We have sent him down to Doc Slee's." "Can't he tell himself what's the mat- ter?" "No. He can't speak a word. His eyes are dull and glassy, and he's pale as death. What did you fellows load your cannon with?" "Nothing." "No stones, nor gravel, nor shot of any kind?" "No, sir; simply nothing — did we, boys?'** "No!" came in chorus from the juvenile garrison. "Well, all I can say, is," muttered Ned, " that Jemmy fell as you fired the cannon the third time." "Man alive!" said Charley Stiles, "we only just fired the cannon the third time since you sent the boys away with the stretcher. "Isn't that so, boys?" „ "Yes, sir!" " Here," continued Stiles. " Come here, Ned, and examine our ammunition. See. i the cannon has just been primed again." Ned looked at the powder which was raked out of the cannon, and found it harmless enough. "Strange," he said. "And you say, Charley, that you have fired only three times altogether, this afternoon. Did you hear the report of something when I halted my boys?" " Yes — at least I thought I heard a rifle fired." "Now I come to think about it," said Ned, "the report was sharper than the cannon, and I don't remember seeing much smoke." "It's my impression," said a strange voice — the same which had suggested an ambulance — "it's my impression you fel- lows are all off the scent." " Why so?" asked Stiles. "Yes; give some reasons," added Ned Trinkner, who somehow wasn't very fav- orably impressed with the stranger. "I can 'do that, right quick, young fel- lows, /saw the flash of a rifle, and can show you just, where the man stood who fired it. See that clump of brush about thirty yards to the left? Well, right there. I was talking to the man five minutes ago. He said he was practicing overhead-shooting with a new rifle. I told him to \jt careful. But even when 1 saw your chum fall I never dreamed of his being shot. Thought he had got some cannon-smoke in his eyes and stum- bled, falling on something bard. If any- thing has happened to the boy, you can rely on me to identify the man who did the shooting." "Good Heavens!" said Ned, anxiously: "I hope nothing has happened to poor Jemmy!" "Me, too," said every one of the boys. "Hallo, there!" shouted Ned, putting his hands to his mouth. " Come up, here, all you fellowsP 1 The Union men hurried up to their leader. " 1 am afraid," said Ned, " this is a seri- ous busines, fellows. This man says he saw a man fire a rifle. Our fight is off for to-day. It's bad enough for a man to be killed in a real battle; we don't want to do anything of that kind until we have to." The boys sauntered away in twos and threes, most of them to go to Doctor Slee's to find out how badlv Sheldon was hurt, Ned felt blue enough, and shoving his bauds in his pockets started to walk to Muggletown alone. " I'm sorry for you fellows," said the stranger, edging up to Ned. "I was a boy myself once, and can feel for bovs yet." Ned made no answer. He did not like the man's style. Although he used sym- pathetic words, there was nothing sincere in the way he spoke. But the man was not to be repulsed. "Seems to me," he said, "they call you Ned. Sou can't be Ned Trinkner, the widow Trinkner's boy?" "16 it will gratify you to know — yes," said Ned. "That is, I was the widow Trinkner's son. My mother is^i Heaven, now; she died more than a year aero." "Dead! Your mother dead! Then you have neither father nor mother. At least your father deserted you when you were a baby, I believe?" "I don't know who you are, sir," ex- claimed Ned, indignantly, "to be prying into my family affairs. 'You presume a good deal when you say my father deserted us. He left us to go to California in Mil. when I was but three years old. Prob- ably some harm or accident befell him. That, however, is none of your concern. Good-day, sir." "No offense, no offense, my lad," said the stranger, as he drew back. But out of Ned's hearing, he bit his lips, ground hit-, teeth, and .muttered to himself: "None of my concern! Ha! Ha! We'll see, my young bantam! We'll see jy GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. about that, and before a great while, too!" CHAPTER III. THE BLACK SPY. Charley Stiles, the leader of the Rebel boys, and commander of the garrison, was not one of the town boys. His father was a wealthy stock raiser who owned a splendid stock-farm ten miles to the south. But Charley had been to school many years in this town, and all his chums were among the town boys. Charley's father had made him a pres- ent of a handsome, stout pony, able to carry a heavy weight and able to gallop pretty fast. Desiring to make Charley a good horse- trader as well as a horse-breeder, his father had told him to sell the pony whenever he could get a real good price for the animal. So, when the stranger, after his rebuff by Ned Trinkner, sauntered up to Char- ley and began to talk "horse," young Stiles drew rein and listened. "I'm a Tennessee man, young fellow," said the stranger. "As you seem to side with the South yourself, I don't mind telling you that I want a good, strong, and hardy pony, so I can help the cause." "Shake!" said Stiles, who was an en- thusiastic youngster and an out-and-out Confederate. " Will you sell your pony?" "Yes, at my price. I'll sell my coat or shoes for my price." "Name it." " Three hundred dollars." "Whew!" said the stranger, with a long, low whistle. " Can't you do* any better?" " No, sir? ' Strictly one price!' " "Take two hundred and fifty, will you?" "No, sir. Three hundred." " It's a big price, but if you'll throw in the saddle and bridle and give up posses- sion right here, I'll take the horse." " Sold again! It's a deal," said Stiles. In two minutes more the stranger was astride the pony, scampering along the hillside road. As for Charley Stiles, he stood sizing fondly at six fifty-dollar bills. He was much tickled, and thought how good it would be to show his father the result of his brisk deal in horseflesh. "Well," he said, "I may as well go on into Muggletown and see how Jemmy Sheldon is; then I can hire a rig to drive home. I guess I can afford it." About that moment Trinkner was pas- sing through a clump of woods, taking a short cut into town. "Mars' Ned!" Ned looked about him, but could see nothing. "Ho! Mars' Ned!" The words were uttered in a stage- whisper. Ned looked again, and this time through the bushes saw two glisten- ing eyes. " It's only dis yer niggah, Mars' Ned!" "Hello, if it isn't Chuck! What's the matter, Chuck?" asked Ned, pleasantly. " Mars' Ned, I earn' come out dar to tell yer nufink. No, doan you come in here nuther. He'll sut'ng kill me, Mars' Ned, ef he knows I tell yer. sah. I seen him do it, sah; I seen him, Mars' Ned!" " Do what, Chuck? What in the name of spring chicken and watermelon are you talking about?" The mention of Chuck's favorite viands seemed to brighten the negro's wits. " De shootin', sah. He shot poor Mars' Sheldon, so he did." "Who? For God's sake tell me all you know, Chuck. Who did it? What is his name?" " Oh, Mars' Ned, doan ask me. I doan know his name. You seen him; you talked wif him. He'll kill dis yer niggah, suah, sah, but he done de shootin', Mars' Ned!" Ned would have asked more questions, but Chuck, frightened and excited, had darted back into the woods, and Ned knew it was no use trying to catch up with him. So our young friend, down-hearted and puzzled, pursued his way into town. Half an hour later he was by the bed- side of his old chum, Jemmy Sheldon. And Ned, tender-hearted as he was brave and plucky, had a good cry over the still and cold form of his dead friend. For Jemmy Sheldon was indeed dead; shot through the heart bv a cruel rifle- ball. But who did it? Not a soul in Muggle- town knew for sure, though Ned Trink- ner at least had some very strong sus- picions. CHAPTER IY. THE COUNTERFEIT BILLS. When Ned Trinkner, with very red eyes and'a very wet handkerchief, came out of the humble residence of the Sheldons, a happy thought struck him. The Sheldons were by no means rich. On the other hand, they were decidedly poor. He would take up a subscription. GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. Ned believed in quick action. He had heard the old saying, that "a ■imble ninepence is better than a slow shilling." So he took a scrap of paper from his pocket, and with a pencil headed a list: Ned. $2.00. Almost the first fellow he met was Charley Stiles, who had just heard the sad news. " Ned, I'm awful sorry about poor Jem- my.' 1 "I know it, Charley; we are all sorry; it's a mean, dirty trick — it's murder, that's what it is." "Bjit you don't think we did it with the cannon, Ned?" "Of course not. Doctor Slee showed me the fatal wound. It was the work of a rifle-ball." "It is a mystery, Ned. Who do you suppose did* it?" "Nobody knows, Charley. But, mark my words, I will know before I am grown much older. Meantime we can't call Jemmy back to life." "That's so, and I'm sorry." "Well, see here, Charley, how much are you sorry? I am taking up a few dollars to help the Sheldons, who will feel the expense of a funeral." "If you'll walk down with me to the livery, Ned, so I can change a bill, I'll give you twenty dollars. I sold my pony after you fellows went home, and got a big price." "You're a brick, Charley." The two lads, who had been lifelong friends, though now divided in their po- litical opinions, hurried to the livery- stable. "Mr. Man," said Charley to the livery- man, who knew him well, "I want a horse and buggy to take me home. Here, I'll pay you in advance. Take the price out of this." Charley handed him one of his fifty- dollar bills. The man looked at it, rubbed it, held it up to the light, and looked at it again. " Well,", said young Stdes, "you don't think I stole it, do you?" " No, sir, I don't. But, I am curious enough to ask where you got it." "Why?" " Do you want to know?" "Certainly.'' "Well, it's a bogus bill!" " Bogus — counterfeit?" " Yes, sir; queer.' 1 '' The boy's jaw dropped very low. ' "Great Scott!" he exclaimed, "what about these?" He produced the other five bills, which he and Ned and the liveryman examined very closely. " All of a kidney," said the man, "and all bad." Charley felt like crying, but he was too much of a man. "Well," he said, grimly, "I sold my pony for a little high-priced experience instead of for currency." "But who did you sell to?" asked Ned and the liveryman together. "You know him— or, at least, you saw him, Ned. That fellow who told us about the shooting, up on the hillside." " You don't say!" muttered Ned. To himself he said, " Ah ! my fine friend, my estimate of you was good enough! You are a scoundrel of deepest dye. If you can pass bogus money and lie you can murder! I don't know why you did it, but you shot Jemmy Sheldon, and I will live to prove it." "Never mind, Charley," he said aloud. "Nothing so bad but it might have been worse! You are still better off than the Sheldons, who have lost what can nevej- be replaced." Two days later Jemmy Sheldon was buried in the Muggletown Cemetery, and the very next day the citizens of the little town were stirred up over a strange event. An army officer of high rank, direct from Washington, took up his headquar- ters at the principal hotel of Muggletown, and a score of officers of lesser rank were quartered in the same house with the great man. Interesting times were certainly ap- proaching. CHAPTER V. NED STRIKES OUT. It was the Fourth of July, although no one could have guessed it. At least not at Muggletown. Everybody was too anxious to be merry. The smell of powder, fired in dead earn- est, was too strong for folks to want to shoot fire-crackers for fun. All the men stood about the street corners waiting for news. The boys followed suit, and shuffled about the town in twos and threes. All eyes were turned on two cities — Washington and Richmond. A great council of war had ju&t been held at Washington, and the result was eagerly awaited. Muggletown was evidently considered an important point by the War Depart- ment. The officer, whom we will call General Dixon, quartered at the hotel, had taken charge of the telegraph office. 8 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. He sent and received hundreds of tele- grams each day. Hardly an hour passed but one or the other of'his aides galloped off or took the train, only to be replaced by a new arri- val with important dispatches. It was about four o'clock in the after- noon of this strange Fourth of July. Ned Trinkner was wishing it would hurrv and grow dark, so he might go to bed and forget it was the nation's birth- day. General Dixon came hurriedly from the telegraph office, and bent his steps to- ward the hotel. He was reading a document. It was a cipher telegram, sent in words that would have been worse than Greek or Hebrew to those who had not the key. The General understood it, however, and a cloud of worry and apprehension spread over his veteran brow. Suddenly he looked up and saw Ned close to his elbow. "Come with me, will you?" he said, quickly, but politely, to Ned. The lad was surprised, but promptly replied: " Yes, sir." They passed right through a large room where several officers sat, some writing, some reading, and some merely awaiting orders. "This way," said the General, passing on to his bedroom off the large room. Ned glanced about the room. It was the first time he had ever been in any kind of military quarters. Like most boys, he was interested in what he saw. flanging on the wall a handsome full- dress uniform. On a side-table the cocked hat of a Gen- eral, ornamented with plumes. In a corner of the room a sword, rich with gold and silver, and a sword-belt. Down on the floor a fine pair of boots with gold-plated spurs. Ned wondered it he would ever win his spurs, and if he would ever be entitled to carry a sword. He thought to himself that, if be ever carried a musket, he would do his best to exchange it for a sword. And Ned Trinkner was just the boy to "get there!" General Dixon seated himself at a small table whereon was a leaiher port- able desk. Many documents, maps, etc., were scat- tered about. " My lad," said the General, "knowing that I might need some outside aid, I have made it my business, daring mv stay here, to look up a reliable lad. I think you are one." "Thank you, sir; I hope so." "I understand you are strong, healthy, and not easily frightened." "• " That is all true, sir." " I know your name — it is Trinkner." "Yes, sir; Ned Trinkner;" "You have no mother nor father?'" " My mother is dead, sir; and my father is believed to have died many years ago." " No brothers nor sisters?" "No, sir." " Very well. For my purpose it is so much better. If you should be absent a long time, there is no one who would be wronged much?" "No, sir." "Would you do vour countrv a good turn?" « "Willingly." "How much would you give up for the old flag, Trinkner?" "General, 1 would give just all that any man or boy could give: I would give my life, sir, for the Stars and Stripes!" Ned's eyes flashed and he stretched him- self to his full height as he said these words. The officer threw off his hat, jumped to his feet, and enthusiastically said: " Give me your hand, boy; you'll doP Ned had many a proud moment in his life, but he never felt any prouder than he did then, when General Dixon clenched his hand so hard that it hurt him. When the General again sat down he proceeded: "Now, my lad, I understand that you know every nook and cornerof this coun- try. I want you to carry a letter for me to a point about twenty-five mfles south of here, in the mountains. I cannot send one of my officers for several reasons. One is that they are strangers, and do not know the territory well enough. An- other is, that they, being strangers, would excite suspicion. As you know, there are many friends of the South all around here, and they would closely w a tcli a stranger. "Now, the people hereabouts know you, and you know the people. You know the country, too. We have a surveyorat work over yonder in the mountains, and we want him to hurry back here, or at least send us what maps he has made, at once. " To morrow war will begin in earnest. Here is a letter which you must give to no one but the man 1 will describe. Will you undertake the task?'' " Yes. sir, that I will," replied Ned, with energy. "Very well; come here at sundown, and then I wilt give you final instruc- tions." GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. CHAPTER VI. NED'S SUCCESSFUL TRIP. About eight o'clock Ned presented himself at General Dixon's room. The General was ready for him. He handed the lad the letter, which Ned secreted inside his flannel shirt, and also whispered the password by which Ned would know his man and introduce himself. The General shook his young 1 messenger by the hand and said a cheery word or two. He also handed Ned a fine, new Colt revolver, telling him that he might possi- bly need it. Ned fctuck the weapon in his hip pocket and started out on his important errand. Ned was very much elated, as well he might be. Many a lad doubtless would have been willing to undertake that errand, for these grand United S rates are chock-full of the plucky boys who make brave men. But it was none the less to Ned Trink- ner's credit/that he did without hesita- tion what General Dixon asked of him. He was young, and he knew every inch of the narrow mountain road. His step was elastic, and after he had walked a dozen miles he was not a bit tired. . But he was hungry. For he was a growing, healthy boy, and it would be a strange thing if he were not hungry after tramping steadily for three hours. So he decided to tackle without cere- mony a huge sandwich which he had put into his coat-pocket. He did not suppose for a moment that anyone would pass along that road so late at night. Indeed, he knew very well that some- times whole weeks elapsed without a soul passing along that lonely road. But he thought it would be prudent to retreat into the woods a step or two. He did so, and sat on an old stump to eat his modest but substantial lunch. He had beemseated about two minutes when he saw a figure flit past on the road, in the same direction as he was going himself. He could hear no footsteps, for the traveler was barefooted, although he was pegging along at a good gait. But Ned knew him instantly. It was Chuck, the nigger! " Now," thought Ned to himself, " what is up?"" At first he felt like calling Chuck by name. But on second thoughts he de- cided that he would not betray his pres- ence even to Chuck, whom he knew was his friend. So Ned kept still. He finished his meal, and having given the colored man about live minutes start of him, he continued his journey. Ned reached his destination by .sunrise, and about seven o'clock had the satisfac- tion of finding his man. They exchanged the password, and Ned delivered General Dixon's letter to the surveyor. "You're a plucky fellow," said the man. "You must be tired and hungry. Down here in the woods I have a little hut. We shall find some bread and milk there." So they went down to the surveyor's shanty, where Ned breakfasted on bread and milk. "Now," said the man, who was quite young and very friendly, "you lie down here and take a sleep. I will wake you in good season, and by that time I shall have finished an important map which I wish the General to havei" Although Ned would never have con- fessed it, he was both tired and sleepy, and was soon in the land of Nod. It was getting dark when the surveyor awoke him. "Now, my lad," he said, "I've brought you a good slice of pie from the village yonder. You had better fill up on it and some of the' bread and milk. You will have to return alone. Here is a letter and a package of maps. Whatever you do, don't lose them, and give them to no- body but General Dixon. I have ex- plained in my letter why I cannot return with you." About midnight Ned was again in the loneliest part of that lonely road. It Mas very near to the place where he had eaten his lunch on the previous night. Only, this night he had no lunch to eat. He wa6 thinking of Chuck, and won- dering where that darky could have been going, and where lie was now. He was startled by the report of a rifle. A bullet whizzed right past his ear. It was so close that Ned could distinct- ly hear the buzz. It was enough to scare an older person than Ned Trinkner. But Ned put himself on the alert. He drew his revolver from his pocket and cocked the hammer. Then he stood still. A moment later a man sprung from the woods. Ned fired. Bang! He fired again. There was a sharp cry of pain from the GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. man, and Ned knew he had wounded him. So he did not fire again. But the man was not badly hurt. He jumped at Ned and dashed the pistol from the plucky boy's hand. "Keep still, or I'll finish you," he mut- tered. " No, you scoundrel, I'll not!" said Ned. The fellow swore a great oath, and tried to grab Ned by the throat. But Ned stepped aside and knocked the fellow's slouchy hat to the ground. "Ha!" shouted Ned, "you rascal, I know you! You would treat me as you did poor Jemmy Sheldon a few weeks ago!" The man growled with rage, and stood for a moment at bay. He glared at Ned, who returned his stare. " Understand me," he said, at last; " I want no nonsense. You have some papers which you will give to me, or never leave this spot alive. Give up, now!" "Never!" shouted Ned. "Lookout, then!" With that, the cowardly assassin rushed at Ned. But he had met his match. Ned was a skillful wrestler and very strong for a lad. He struggled manfully, and for two or three minutes there was no advantage to either combatant. Suddenly from the woods came a yell. "Give it to him, Mars' Ned! Go for him, sah! Knock his eye out! Stand up to him, Mars' Ned! Whoop-ee!" The would-be assassin turned and ran like the wind. A momeut later Chuck stood beside Ned. "Well," said the astonished and some- what exhausted Ned, "what do you do here?" "Mars' Ned, I just done thought, sah, you'd git inter trouble, sah. So I fol- lered yer an' follered yer 'till dis yer present moment, sah!" "Yes, but you didn't help me very much, Chuck. You let me do all the fighting, you old coward, you!" "Now, Mars' Ned, didn't I just yell an' holler, sah? I'se 'fraid ter show myself ter dat ar man, 'case he kill me, suah. But I holler and scare him, didn't I sah?" " Yes, you certainly hollered consider- ably, and I suppose you scared the scoun- drel, as he took to his heels. Come along, Chuck, we'll travel home together. By the way, you lost me last night, didn't you?" "Yes, sah, right here." " You old goose, I was sitting behind a tree and saw you go past. But I'm glad of your company, now, anyhow. Only, Chuck " "Yes, sah?" "Y"ou had better keep your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise. We don't want everybody to know about this trip." " Suah, sah." Ned had passed through a tight pRce. It was a close call, but hereached home safely, and placed the letter and maps in the hands of General Dixon. He not only received that officer's thanks. He was substantially paid from Uncle Sam's treasury with fifty dollars in gold. But Ned found Muggletown topsy-turvy with excitement. CHAPTER VII. OFF FOR THE WAR. It was on the morning of the sixth day of July when Ned got back to Muggle- town. On the day previous President Lincoln had issued a proclamation calling for an army of four hundred thousand volun- teers to pat down the Rebellion. All through the length and breadth of the loyal South regiments were already being raised. Even in sleepy old Muggletown flavs were streaming, drums were rolling, horns were tooting, speeches were being made, business was suspended, and all men were wild with excitement. Ned sought his guardian, old lawver Turrell. "Squire," he said, boldly, "if they'll enlist me, I'm going to the war." "Which means, in other words," growled the Squire, "that you want to go to the devil." "No, sir, unless you call the South the devil about this time." "Confound yourimpudence,Ned Trink- ner! Do you know I'm your guardian, and that I sympathize with the South?" "Can't help it, Squire. I know I'm only a boy; but I'm a pretty good-sized boy, and I've got good marching legs and a stout arm. More than that, I've got my own notion in regard to Jeff Davis, and I'm ready to back it up, sir." "Hold your tongue, Ned!" said the lawyer, testily. " I tell you you're only a boy, with no right to any opinions. Be- side, I'm your legal guardian, and can for- bid your leaving this town without my permission. Hang it, young fellow-, if *I were twenty years younger I'd fight my- self — on the other side." "Won't you give me permisson to enlist, Squire?" GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 9 " iVb/" thundered old Turrell, stamp- ing his right foot on his favorite corn. "I'm sorry, Squire," said Ned, very humbly; "because — er— because, why, you see, Squire, I think I shall have to go without your permission." "What's that, sir?" "I think I shall go, anyhow, if they will enlist me." "Dod-blast your impudence, Ned, you've got a pilebf cheek for a boy, sir." At heart the old fellow admired Ned's sturdy independence. He was glad that the boy had come and told him his intentions. He knew very well that most lads would have sneaked off without saying a word. But he still pretended to 'be mad and angry. "Well, go then," he growled; " go and get killed! But if they bring you home a corpse, don't say a word to me, sir." Ned saw he had practically carried his point with his guardian. "Judge." he said, although lawyer Tur- rell had never occupied a seat on the judicial bench; "Judge, excuse me, but you are too old to fight." "Humph," growled old Turrell; "you'd see, if I had a good hickory stick he'-e, my lad!" " So I suppose you will stay in Muggle- town, sir," continued Ned. "I only want you to be so good as to take care of the property my mother left me just the same, whether I am here or not. Will you do that, Squire?" "And suppose you go away from here and never come back, Ned? Sou have no relatives to claim your property." " Keep it yourself, Squire, or do as you please with it." There was something glistening in the old lawyer's eyes. "You're a generous fellow, Ned. I'll take good care of your property, lad -but I could never touch a penny of it. I'm t>orry you ain't on our side, though." That night there was a big torch-light parade in Muggletown. Bands played, men shouted, and boys yelled. There was a mass-meeting and speech- making on the public square. Some army officers were there, and many well-known public men. Volunteers were enrolling their names. Ned went up and took the pen to sign his name. "Too young, boy," said a big man, gruffly. " Go home and eat more beefsteak for awhile," said another, who thought he was a joker. " You wouldn't make decent sausage for the Rebs yet." "You mean well, my lad," said a third, more kindly, "but you will have to bring a permit from yourparents." But Ned was not to bf» easily foiled. Half an hour later he presented himself again to the enrolling officers. He had a permit signed by old Isaac Turrell. He also had another paper. It was a recommendation from an officer already in charge of that district. This is what it said: Colonel Barker: The bearer has lately done the United States Army a great service. He is a plucky lad, and will make a good soldier. Do what you can for him. Ford Dixon, Brig. General. Two days afterward, when the men, known as the Kentucky Skirmishers, met for their first drill and the election of non-commissioned officers, the Colonel read General Dixon's note. . The result was that the youngest mem- ber of the regiment became at once de- cidedly popular, and was assigned to his company as Corporal Ned Trinkner. The day the regiment of recruits marched out of Muggletown on their way to the Newport Barracks, opposite Cincinnati, was a day never to be forgot- ten. The noise was deafening. The excitement was intense. But above all the din and uproar could be heard the shouts of the boys: "Gooa-by, Ned, old fellow!" "Good hick, Ned!" "Bully boy, Trinkner!" Ned waved his hat and his hand until he was tired, and shouted farewells until he was hoarse. One boy pressed through the crowd and grasped Ned's hand. It was Charley Stiles. " Good -by, old boy," he- said; "don't forget our play-battles. We may meet to fight in dead earnest, if this lasts long enough!" Ned remembered those words when next he saw Charley Stiles. CHAPTEE VIII. PROMOTED. It was the spring of 1862. The "boys" who had left the towns and hamlets of the North at the first call of the President were already veterans. Many hundreds of them were more than that. They were martyr-heroes, having laid down their lives tor rheir country's cause. On the fair fields of the sunny South 10 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDin. thousands of bones lay bleaching, and in the prison-pens of the Confederacy strong men were fast losing their strength and manliness. It was April. Just one vear from the bombardment of Fort Sumter, and yet the war had practically only just commenced. The first {rreat battle of the war had just been fought— the battle of Shiloh. The Kentucky Skirmishers had covered themselves with glory. So had the Color-Sergeant of the regi- ment. His name was Ned Trinkner. It fell to the Kentucky boys to capture a couple of huge pieces of artillery, which for hours had been pouring forth a dead- ly fusillade of shot and shell. Over and over again the brave fellows attempted to charge the battery and spike those two guns. As many times they had to retreat. It was like marching into the jaws of death. Out of nearly a thousand men who made the first charge, scarce eight hun- dred were left when they beat their first retreat. By the time they were repulsed for the third time, only half of the original num- ber remained. Not a man in the regiment was a coward. Thej T were afraid of nothing. Swords and muskets were only incen- tives to daring. And yet they were greatly discouraged. They felt that it was a hopeless task for them to attempt. If they could not force their way with a thousand fresh and eager men, how could they hope to do any good with but five hundred tired fellows? They signaled for aid. But it could not be spared. Every regiment in that army was busy. Colonel Barker, Commander of the Kentucky Skirmishers, was the bravest of the brave. There was not a weak or faltering hair in his head. All through the unsuccessful attacks he had been at the head of his men. rally- ing them by cheerful \v,ords and good example. "Lads," he said at last, " we have tried three times, and we should be justified in quitting now. But the eyes of our country are on old Kentucky. I'm for one more try, and I know you'll help me. Come along, boys!" But, even as the gallant officer spoke, the bullet from a sharp-shooter's musket, fired with unerring aim, whistled through the air. and smote the shoulder of the Colonel. He shuddered and turn pale, as his sword-arm dropped. But he smiled, sadly. "I'll have to fall out, boys; but try it again, for my sake!" To the front rushed a man on whom all eyes were turned. It was Color Sergeant Trinkner. '"Hurrah for the Colonel, boys!" he shouted. "Hurrah!" shouted five hundred throats. " And a big hurrah for Old Kentucky!" he went on. " Three cheers for the old flag!" yelled the Color-bearer as he waved to and fro the weather-worn and shot-tattered em- blem that the boys loved so well. Have you ever heard the roar of Niagara? Well, the peal upon peal of cheering could be heard far above that noise. Ned meant business. He was still the youngest soldier in that regiment, but he was also still the very bravest. "Boys!" he shouted, as he tore down the flag from its standard and wrapped its silken folds around his body, ""this flag will float on top of the hill behind those Rebel guns in ten minutes. You won't desert it? No! Hurran! Charge!" Up the steep ascent, througn clouds of powder and smoke, and through a very hailstorm of shot and shell, scrambled that handful of brave Union boys. Sergeant Trinkner carried a sword in his right hand, and in his left the. identi- cal revolver which General Dixon bad given him in Muggletown. He fought his way up inch by inch. He had the strength of a young lion, and to achieve his purpose he was fierce as a tiger. He was several yards ahead of his com- rades. One powerful man in Confederate gray tried to tear the flag from his body: but Ned put a pistol-shot through his head, and the man's gghting days were over. Another seized Ned about the waist and tried to throw him: but our young friend remembered all his old W«Y?f i .brig tricks, and used them now to good ad- vantage. He seemed possessed of the strergfh of Hercules. He threw his adversary, and the next moment was parrying a sword-thrusf from a Rebel officer. He did get one nasty cut on his fore head, and lost his hat and his sword. But he kept his word. The Union boys captured the battery, and within the time set bv Ned the silken GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 11 Stars and Stripes floated from a Rebel musket, which he stuck, bayonet down- ward, into the soft but blood y turf. Although Ned had often proven him- self brave and plucky, tills was the first opportunity he had had of distinguish- ing himself in actual battle. He received the congratulations of his comrades, and the thanks of his Colonel, who was in the hospital. . Beside that, when the dispatches of the Commanding General were sent to Wash- ington on the next morning, the name of Color-Sergeant Trinkner was speocially and honorably mentioned. And when a general order was circu- lated announcing promotions and to fill vacancies caused by death, etc, under the heading "To be Second-Lieutenants" was this name: Color Sergeant Edward Trinkner. CHAPTER IX. CHUCK'S story. But we have digressed, though no apology seems to be necessary. It would hardly have done to pass over Ned Trinkner's unsurpassed bravery at the celebrated battle of Shilob. However, the evening after the day of the battle, and before Ned knew that he was a Lieutenant, he sat with some of his comrades, resting before a camp-fire. They were all more or less tired, and were reclining in various positions of re- pose. One of their number was spinning a yarn. They were so engrossed (those who were awake) in the storj', that they hardly noticed the approach of a negro. There was nothing remarkable about the darky, who had a basket of apples, nuts and candy, which he was trying to peddle. "Got a pass?'' asked a young officer, of the negro. "Yes, sah — why, laws-a-massy, ef it ain't Mars' Ned!" The darky was evidently pleased to see a familiar face, for he dropped his basket, leaving its contents to the tender mercies of the "boys." "Hello, Chuck, old fellow, you're a regular mascot! You seem to find me out and run me down, no matter where I go. What do you know, Chuck!" "Laws, Mars' Ned, lots! Lots, sah, lots!" 1 " Well," said Ned, "I like to ran across a man who owns up to knowing some- thing; sit down. Chuck, sit down, and let's have a visit." After a few general inquiries Chuck dropped his voice somewhat, anxl was soon earnestly telling Ned of rather im- portant matters. We will not use Chuck's curious phrases nor reproduce his roundabout story. In substance it was as follows: Chuck was deeply attached to Ned Trinkner. He had taken care of Ned when our hero was a baby. Chuck's father had been slave to Ned's grandfather, and just before the old gen- tleman died he gave his faithful negro his freedom. Ned's father and mother had been ex- ceedingly good to Chuck, and so, at vari- ous times, had Ned himself. For all these reasons^ Chuck felt that he owed considerable to the Trinkner family, of which Ned was now the sole representative. But for a long time Chuck's mind had been strangely disturbed. In his wanderings since the death of Ned's mother, he had for a sbortj time been in the employ of a man engaged in various shady avocations in St. Louis and other Western cities. Chuck had soon discovered that this man was utterly devoid of principle. He also learned that the fellow had a secret of his own which lie tried to care- fully guard, but which was so graven on his mind that he raved about it in his sleep. One night Chuck overheard him. The darky learned all the particulars of a cold-blooded murder committed on the plains, A man on his way to California, some years before, had undoubtedly met with his death at the hands of Chuck's em- ployer. Alter a time the man suspected that Chuck knew something of his secret. But he never said anything to Chuck. He had his own plans, and he was evi- dently biding his time. He was peculiarly kind to the negro, and often went out of his way to be of service to Chuck. But his time came. Chuck, who was no swimmer, fell from one of the rivsr wharves of St. Louis into the then swollen waters of the Missis- sippi. His employer, standing by, jumped into the water and rescued Chuck. It was no particular effort for the man, who was a stout swimmer, but it placed Chuck under an obligation to him. just the same. And right well it served his purpose. He was no longer kind or generous. He was cold, cruel and harsh in the ex- treme. 12 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. That evening he called Chuck into his room and locked the door. "Get down on your knees," he said sternly. Chuck did so. "Take this in your hand," he con- tinued, handing Chuck a Bible. The negro obeyed. "Now," said the man, "kiss the Book and call on God to be your witness that you will never mention my name to any- one who is a stranger to me without my permission, and that you will never, so help you God, say a single word to a living soul about my affairs or my past history. Remember, I saved your life this very day! Now, swear!" Horror-struck and tremblingly the negro took the oath. He felt that he could not do otherwise. "Go," said the man; "I am through with you. You can go to the d^vil or wherever else you please. Only, bear in mind that if you ever dome a bad turn or break your oath I'll shoot you as I would a dog— and you know I'm a fine shot!" When Chuck had told Ned this much of his story he went on: "Mars' Ned, sah, I earn' nevah tell dat man's name, sah, 'cos he shoot me, suah, sah. But ef you kin guess who he am, sah, dat ain't dis yer niggah's funeral, sah! Fer instance, sah, dat ar man what shoot poor Mars' Sheldon last summer. Now he's a bad 'un, Mars' Ned. He means bad to you, sah, for suah. So look out, Mars' Ned, look out. I ain't jes' a talk- in', sah. Listen!" Here Chuck put his mouth to Ned's ear and whispered very low: "You jes' tell de Colonel, sah, dat a spy 'listed into dis yer bery regiment dis yer mawnin. You jes' help de Colonel, Mars' Ned, an' 1 guess you'll find him easy. Now, Mars' Ned, I'll have to go. Good-by, sah, and good luck. Any ap- ples or bananas, gem'men? By de way, Mars' Ned, here's a letter what I brought d'rect from Mars' Turrell at Muggle- town." CHAPTER X. A DESERTER. Ned glanced at the soiled and travel- worn letter which Chuck handed him. He supposed it was a gossipy epistle from his guardian, the old lawyer, and he knew he would enjoy reading a letter from the old town which he had not seen for almost a year. Not that he would be the first to read the letter. Dear no, not in those war times. The seal had been broken long since, and the letter had been closely read a dozen times by as many officers and sen- tries, both Federal and Confederate. In war times letters were considered pesky things, and a man who carried a letter was in great danger of being ar- rested for a spy. ' • However, this letter had at last reached its rightful owner, and now it was thrust into that owner's pocket, to be read at a more convenient season. Ned had important work on hand. A spy was in the ranks. Ned firmly believed Chuck, w r ho had no object in deceiving him. Beside, from what Chuck had said, he had good reason to believe that this spy was the scoundrel who had shot poor Jemmy Sheldon and then passed off counterfeit money on Charley Stiles; the same rascal who had at- tempted to rob him of the maps on that memorable night when he was executing a commission for General Dixon. Un- doubtedly, too, the same man had been Chuck's employer in St. Louis, forcing from the ignorant and frightened negro that oath of secrecy. A professional cut- throat, adventurer, scoundrel and spy. Ned was anxious to discover a spy, for the reason that a spy was dangerous, and should be discovered and punished in a military way. He wished particularly to discover this fellow, because he had cruelly and un- warrantedly killed his old playmate. And there was another reason. Ned could not help thinking that the man, whoever he was, had some private and peculiar grudge against himself. What the grudge might be, Ned had no reasonable idea; but he could not rid himself of the notion. He felt positive that the man could tell him something that would be of more than passing interest to him. He resolved to learn all that he could. Ned's first duty was to walk to the Colonel's quarters in the field hospital. He was admitted, and saluted his chief. "Good-evening, Lieutenant." " Sergeant, sir," corrected Ned, respect- fully. "It's all right, Lieutenant," persisted Colonel Barker, smilingly; "here is the last general order, just out. Allow me to congratulate you." "Thank you, sir. Can we be alone for a few minutes? I have important in- formation, sir." " Certainly; but if it concerns the regi- ment Major Black had better be present. I cannot attend actively to any matter for a few days, 1 fear. Just step out and fetch the Major, will you, Trinkner?" Even in the short walk from the hos GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 13 pital to Major Black's tent Ned was be- sieged with congratulations from his" brother officers, and by the men in the ranks. When he and the Colonel and Major Black were at last together, Ned told his story. "Major," said the Colonel, "attend to this matter at once. Lieutenant Trink- ner will assist you. If you discover any- thing, take everything to the General, for him to deal with." Major Black sent out a picket-guard to bring in all the recruits enlisted in the last forty-eight hours. They returned with six men. Ned eyed them all closely. " Well, Lieutenant?" said the Major. " My man is not here, sir," whispered Ned, in a disappointed tone. "Are these all the recruits?" asked the Major of the officer of the guard. " There is one missing, sir. There were seven." " Missing! What do you mean?" " Deserted since sundown, sir." "What kind of a man was he?" "Tall, with a lean, lanky appearance, but really very broad-shouldered. A clean-shaven face, with a hard look, sir." "Any special marks on him?" "A blue mark under his eye, probably caused by the discharge of some gun- powder." " The very man, Major," said Ned, with much vexation; "he ought to be cap- tured, sir." ' But although search was made, nothing was seen of the deserter. . y Ned felt very down-hear/ecj. /His vexa- tion at the loss of this j/py was greater than the pleasure he expe;f!«*nced at being promoted to be a commissioned officer. He went back to his tent aiid polled out lawyer Turrell's letter, ^aafri CHAPTER XI. NED RECEIVES A LETTER. If Ned felt vexed when he threw him- self upon his blanket in the tent, he be- came still more so as he perused the con- tents of Squire Turrell's letter. For this is what the old lawyer said: My Dear Ned: — I haven't very much news for you. You know very well that Muggletown never was much of a place for the manufacture of news. About this time it is worse than ever. All the news is right around you, and I wish you could find time to drop me a letter once in awhile. However, I have a couple of items for you. The first will, I doubt not, cause you to laugh at my expense. I am no longer a Rebel sympathizer. I cannot see the Stars and Stripes fired upon and dragged in the dust by those Confeds without my bile rising. There- fore when we met again we will drink (you naming the drinks) success to the Union armies. Now, Ned, for the other piece of news. Along about New Year a man called on me and demanded the Trinkner estates. He was a tall, spare man with long hair, tufty beard, and heavy mustache. He said he was your father. He offered to produce undeni- able proof, and wanted to make an affi- davit before a notary. Of course, Ned, I knew your father pretty well, and this fel- low certainly resembled him in many re- spects, and showed me one or two things which your father carried away with him when he started for California. On the other hand, there were many points of difference which seemed to convince me that the fellow was an impostor. At all events, I positively refused to take any action. I told him that his son, meaning you, was still alive, and that he had bet- ter look you up. He said he would do so, and would see me again. But I have not clapped eyes on him from that day to this. Have you seen anything of the man, Ned? If not, that settles the matter in my mind. 1 have good reason for thinking the fellow a dyed-in-the-wool scoundrel who tried to play a big game of bluff with me. But never fear, Ned. I'm a pretty old rooster, I know; but the "smart alecks" will have to get up be- fore daybreak to get ahead of me, all the same. I'll take good care of. your prop- erty and interests. By the way, Ned, don't you want me to .send you some money? There is a tidy sum in the bank here to your credit. Draw on me for what you need, for I know the army pay , is small enough. Hope you are well and sound in limb. Yours sincerely, Isaac Turrell. P. S. — The man had a curious blue mark under left eye. "Confound the luck," exclaimed our friend, "it seems as if that fellow is in- tent on doing me some injury, and yet I cannot catch up with him. I begin to smell a rat. I can put what I know with Chuck's story and what the Squire has told me. I will sift that fellow and his rascality through and through, if it takes every cent I have and half my lifetime. A cloud has rested on my father's mem- ory for years. I knew that what folks said about him killed my mother, al- though she never murmured. They say he deserted us. It is a lie! He met with foul play, and if not at the hands of this 14 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. CHAPTER XII. NED UNDER ORDERS AGAIN. But interested as was Ned in his own private affairs, be had very little oppor- tunity to attend to them. There was marching or fighting: to be done right along, and a good deal ot extra duty fell to our hero. He was snoring soundly, wrapped in his blanket, one night early in the fall. .Some months had passed since the appearance of Chuck in the camp, and Ne 1 had heard nothing more of the man who had done him and his friend so much wrong. He had not even received any sort of word from lawyer Turrelf. But the time had seemed to fly past, so busy was he with his military duties. As remarked, Lieutenant Ned Trinkner was snoring soundly. Suddenly his sleep was disturbed. scoundrelly cut-throat and spy, he at least knows more than he cares to ten; ' Well, here goes for a commencement. " Ned jumped up and borrowed pencil and paper. For several minutes he wrote hurriedly and earnestly. Before he turned in to sleep he had penned the following to his friend and guardian, old lawyer Turrell. Dear Friend: — I have just received your letter, which Chuck carried in his pocket for six weeks before it reached me. The man who represented himself as my father is a liar and a scoundrel. He is worse than that, as I hope to prove be- fore long. He is everything that is bad, and I have a long score to settle with him. He passed in this vicinity under the name of Jake Watson. If there is money enough to my credit, I want you to go at my expense to Pittsburg, Cin- cinnati and St. Louis. Look up a smart detective in each place, and offer a thou- sand dollars reward for the capture of this scamp Watson, alias Smith, who is trying to pass himself off as Richard Trinkner. I will swear out a warrant if necessary, or you can. If you cannot get hold of me, Charley Stiles will identify him as an outlaw of the worst kind. Glad you are well. I am doing nicely. Yours respectfully, Edward Trinkner, 2d Lieut. "B,"Co. Kentucky Skirmishers. "That last line, under my name, will tickle the old gent," said Ned, as he tnrned in to sleep. Somebody was poking him in the ribs. It was the Captain of his company, a thorough good fellow and a staunch •friend to Ned. "Hello, there, Trinkner, 1 ' he shouted; " wake up. my boy!" Ned rubbed his eyes and looked up rather sheepishly. He had been indulging in pleasant dreams of the old days of his boyhood, when he and Charley Stiles had led opposing armies to fierce but bloodless combat. " Come, get a move on you," said the Captain, as he playfully jerked Ned out of his blanket. " 1 never saw anyone like you, Ned; you are always in luck. Here's the General sent over to our Colonel for an officer and escort to carry important dispatches to General Dixon." " What then?" said Ned, wdio was slowly awaking. "What's that got to do with you waking a fellow out of a first-class snooze?" "Do? Why. man alive, you might have known that the Colonel would select you for the job! Upon my word. Ned, you're the luckiest kind of a fellow! Here have we poor no accounts got to lay around in camp or march like mule-', while you have a pleasant little ride of about sixty miles across the country. It's no wonder you get promoted. If you do this job all right 1 suppose you'll go up a peg— nerhaps two. By the way, you are acquainted with General Dixon, are you not?" v "Slightly," said Ned. " I served under him for.about forty-eight hours. I dare say, though,* he has forgotten me long ag'>." ^ "Never yo^< fear, my boy; Dixon isn't that sort o, f tered Charley. "I never thought you would whip me this way, Ned! Here, take my pistol; I dropped my sword over yonder. 1 see you are a Lieutenant, Ned, by your uniform." Captain Stiles (for such was Charley's rank in the Confederate cavalry) stood up and shouted aloud: "Boys, let up! Lieutenant Trinkner has my sword." The Rebels recognized the voice of their young leader and at once ceased the struggle. They at once signed the parole, while Ned's men broke up their carbines and swords, and stuck the captured pistols into their own belts. While the men stood around compar- ing notes, and attending to the Rebel dead and wounded, Ned and Charley had quite a talk over all that had transpired since they last saw each other. They had neither of them been to Muggletown since the opening of the war. " Charley," said Ned, " do you remem- ber what you said when you wished me good -by,' as our brvs marched out of Muggletown ?" GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 17 "No; what was it?" "You said we might meet to fight in deail earnest.'" "Well, I guess we did," said Charley, with a smile. " And it was a close call for me, Ned." " Indeed it was. I'm sorry you fellows will have to walk away from here. I shall have to comply with the rules and seize your horses." "All right, old fellow, don't apologize. It's the fortunes of war. Good-by, Ned." They shook hands silently. Ned, with his usual luck, rode away on a fine horse at the head of his little com- pany, who also bestrode, awkwardly enough, the captured animals. They even had four extra horses, which some of the men led. As for the paroled prisoners, they gazed sadly enough at their conquerors as they rode away. CHAPTER XIV. NED AND GENERAL DIXON. "Ah! Lieutenant," said General Dixon, pleasantly, as Ned presented himself at that officer's headquarters. " I am glad you got through with these papers, as they are of the utmost importance. I don't forget you did me a similar service once before, Trinkner." Although an old soldier by this time, Ned's face flushed with pleasure at these warm words of commendation. It was no small matter to be remem- bered and commended by a man as high in authority as General Dixon. "By the way," continued the General, as he scanned the dispatches brought by Ned, "the last time you did me some service you had a hard time of it? Came pretty near losing the papers and your life, too?" "Yes, sir. And the same thing hap- pened this trip. But I pulled out all right, and managed to capture a few good horses." " Good for you! Now if you will come up here this evening, when I am not quite so busy, I will tell you something that I think may interest you a good deal." You may be sure that Ned showed up at the General's headquarters, which were located in a small shanty, later in the day. . ""We will consider ourselves off duty now, Trinkner," said the General, who was one of the pleasantest of men. "I suppose if you were at home I should frown at the very notion. But as we are at the front, and you area commissioned officer, I will ask you to join me in a cigar." "Much obliged," said our young friend, with much respect. "I leave cigars for my betters. I'm only a boy, you know, sir, and smoking might stop my growth." "Well, well," laughed General Dixon, "I think I like you all the better for your sound judgment. Only, when you do indulge, my lad, tackle an honest cigar, and don't lower yourself to cigar- ettes. Now then," he continued, as he blew the first puffs of smoke away from his face, "let us leave military matters for awhile, and talk over other matters. I believe I shall have to call you Ned; it seems to come natural!" "Do so, by all means, sir," replied Ned, who saw a good deal to like in the vet- eran chief of engineers. " Very well, Ned. Two or three things have happened of late which have set me thinking about you and about a man I once ran across. Your mother is dead?" "Yes, sir." "And your father, Ned?" "i" believe he is dead, General. More than that, I believe he has been dead many years." "How many, Ned?" "Well, quite fourteen, I should judge." "So should I." "You, General — you?" "Yes, but go on. I will explain later, when you have answered my questions. Tell me, why do you think him dead?" "Well, sir, it is most of fifteen years since my father left home to go with the rest of the Forty-niners to seek wealth in California." " When did you hear from him last?" "Ah, that is my point, sir. We never heard from him; and although I was so small at the time, it is as plain as I can remember anything that my father was too kind and good to my mother and me to basely desert us." "What do you think then, Ned?" " I think that he died before he ever reached California — possibly murdered on the plains." "Ah! you think he was murdered? Why?" "I don't know, General. But I feel certain that my father met with foul play. He carried with him considerable cur- rency, for we were always pretty well off, though he wanted to be" very rich. More thaji that, I think I shall live not only to prove the truth of my suspicion, but to show up the scoundrel who slew my poor father!" "Then," said the General, "you sus- pect some one?" "Yes. That is to say I am confident there is a man alive to-day who, if he did not actually murder and rob iny father, was a party to and witness of th« d«#d." 18 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. " So do I, Ned, my boy; so do I!" "Tell me, General," said Ned, with much eagerness. "Pray te.ll uie the meaning of this? Did you ever see my father?" " Yes, boy, I did, though I assure you we were never acquainted. And, what is more, I have seen Ins murderer." . "Without doubt?" "Without the shadow of a doubt!" "Recently?" "Within three weeks. Listen." CHAPTER XV. THE GKNERAjVS STORY. "In forty-nine, Ned, I was a Colonel of Engineers, and was in charge of a large Government surveying and engi- neering party. We were out in the terri- tories, laying out roads and building bridges. " I was in charge of a large district, ex- tending into Colorado, and had several corps under me. "At first when we went out there it was rather dull, for we seldom saw any- one beside ourselves and Indians. "But when the rush for the gold-fields on the Pacific slope commenced, hardly a day passed that we did not see compa- nies "of emigrants bound West. "Especially was this the case when we all came down to work on one of the great Western trails. "One day a handsome man, riding a powerful horse, rode up to my quarters. "I saw at a glance that the man was sick. " 'Colonel, 1 he said, 'have you got a doctor in your crowd? 1 " 'Sorry, 1 I replied, 'but our surgeon is how sixty miles away 'tending a very sick man! 1 " 'Well, 1 he said, 'I'm a very sick man myself, and if I can't get some medicine, and have to sleep out on the plains To-night, I'm afraid I shall be worse than sick.' " 'Better hobble your horse right here, 1 I said. 'You can sleep in my tent to- night. What's the trouble? I have a small medicine chest, and perhaps I can doctor you. 1 " He "told me what his ailment was and I gave him a dose. " He lay down and was soon sleeping soundly. "When I awoke in the morning my guest was already up and dressed. " ' Colonel, 1 he said, briskly, ' I'm a well man. You had better quit soldiering and go into the hospital business. 1 "We both laughed, and after drinking a cup of coffee, he rose to go. "' Here, Colonel,' he said, 'I suppose you won't accept a doctor's fee; but here's a trifle which you can help some poor cuss along with some time.' " With that he took out a large roll of bills, and detached a ten dollar note for me. " I took it, as I felt it would please him better, but I remarked: " ' You ought to keep that out of sight, my friend. These are dangerous times and places,, out here.' " He laughed, loudly. "' Never fear,' he said. And the next minute he was in the saddle and off. " Exactly twenty-four hours later I saw my guest again. " He was four miles from my quarters, lying at the roadside. " He was dead. "Killed by a pistol-ball through his brain. " His pockets had all been rifled. " There was not a cent of money, nor a shred of paper of any sort, in them. "I sent out a couple of my men to bury the poor fellow, and before they buried him I thought to take — this." As bespoke, General Dixon threw upon the small table an old and faded stock- ing, upon which, in almost illegible let- ters of marking-ink were two words. Ned almost staggered from his seat as he read them. For these were the words: Richard Trixknkr. The General considerately waited for Ned to recover his composure, and then he resumed: " Remember, Ned, I only sent for this n couple cf weeks ago. My wife sent it on from Washington. I wanted to be sure of the name, and I will now tell you why. " Less than a month ago, a man pre- sented himself to me for a pass. He said he wished to pass through our lines on his way to visit his son. He said his son was Lieutenant Trinkner, of the Ken- tucky Skirmishers " "I know the scoundrel!" interrupted Ned. "Wait a moment, my boy. I told him to come up again, and then I set to think- ing. He cauie up again for his pass, and I asked him if he was Richard Trinkner. He said yes. I asked him if he ever crossed the plains. Again he answered, yes. Then I asked him if he still had a peculiar ring of emerald setting. He said yes, and actually produced the ring which had attracted" my notice on the hand of my sick guest! "I next asked him if he remembered that night in my quarters, when I d»c- GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 19 tared him. But there I proved his im- posture. He contradicted himself, and lied twenty times. 1 made up my mind that he was the murderer and robber of your father, and that, for reasons of his own, he was impersonating Richard Trinkner. I ought to base placed him under arrest there and then. But I did not; I told him to come yet again for the pass, and I have never seen him since. Now, wait Ned,' 1 continued the General. " I have just hired a new negro servant, who is inclined to be chatty when I am around. He has told me all about a man he worked for in St. Louis, and of things which his employer used to say in his sleep. The man my negro, Chuck, worked for is this self same man. Now, you say you have seen him?" "Yes, sir; at least twice. He is the rascal who tried to rob me of the papers I brought to you at Muggletown." "The dickens he is!" " The same.*' "Then it Chuck knows him, and you know him, and I know him — and we none of us know any good of him — we ought to catch him some time." "Soon, very soon, I hope, sir." "Rely on this, Ned: If we do lay hands on him again, then we will grip him pretty hard." •' Amen," said Ned, as he bowed him- self out of the room. CHAPTER XVI. THE CAPTURE. Ned spent several days of rest and recreation about General Dixon's quar- ters. He had many a chat with Chuck, the negro. He persuaded the darky to tell over again all that he remembered about the man he worked for in St. Louis. He tried 10 get him to tell his name and the name of the man he murdered in his dreams. But he was entirely unsuccessful. Chuck was obdurate. He seemed utterly frightened when he approached the subject. The fellow, whoever lie was, had evi- dently worked a spell on the ignorant colored fellow. And yet Ned was more convinced than ever that Chuck's rascal and his own scoundrel was one and the same man. However, Chuck was none the less glad to see his old master's grandson, and as he was now the Generals cook, he made things decidedly pleasant. Chuck was an expert at the culinary art, and if he was in the habit of asking no questions, so that he got plenty of tender chickens and fresh vegetables — well, that was Chuck's ownbusiness. But after a week or so of pleasant and well-earned rest, General Dixon an- nouncd to Ned that he had received special orders from Washington. He was detailed to proceed to the army of which Ned's regiment formed a part, to superintend the construction of sev- eral bridges that had been destroyed by the enemy. "It is considered tolerably safe for ine to move with about two hundred men," said the General. "lou can go along with us, Ned." " Gladly," responded our hero. "You can act as guide," continued the General. "You will be valuable, for you know the ticklish places, and can put us on oUr guard when necessary." "That, too, 1 will gladly do." In due course the little company set out. As Ned's own squad were none of them good hoi-semen, he left the horses, which lie had captured from Captain Stiles, in a safe place. He did not wish to be forced to give up his prize. The first day's march was uneventful enough. General Dixon and his staff rode their horses at a slow gate, and the men of the engineering corps had enough to do to attend to the transportation of their wagons, implements and tools. Ned's men had really the best of it. Therefore when they camped for the night in a secluded spot, it was deemed only fair that Lieutenant Trinkner's men should go on forage duty. Ned accompanied his men. After wandering slowly and carefully for about half an hour, they espied a farm-house of the better class." "This looks like a probable place for getting food of some kind," said Ned. "Let us go up and see." When they were within two hundred yards of the house, Ned was greatly sur- prised to see a girl of sixteen or seventeen years run toward him from behind some shrubbery. She was a lovely girl, aud yet Ned could see at a glance that she was in trouble. Although a stranger, Ned was gallant enough to feel sorry for her. He was an officer, and remembering that an officer should ever be a gentle- man, his first impulse was to tender her some assistance. "Pardon me," he said, touching his cap. " I see you are worried about some- thing. Can I aid you? Do not fear us." 20 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. "Oh, sir," she said, forcing back her tears, " yonder is my home, and it is in possession of four ruffians. The} 7 have bound and gagged my poor father, whom they have cast into the cellar. They have robbed him of his money and me of my trinkets. They have thrust me from the house, after threatening to take my life!" "Scandalous!" said Ned. "Who are they?" " They claim to be soldiers of the Union army. Their leader wears a blue uni- form, but the others are more like tramps. The man in uniform claims to have authority from high officials for his ac- tions. He says they are raising funds in every possible way." " Do they look like soldiers?" "No, sir; and they certainly do not be- have like any soldiers I have before seen. Men in both blue and gray have been to our house and have respectfully asked for food and lodging, which has always been gladly given." "Have you any idea what they are do- ing by this time?" asked Ned. " They have been eating and drinking, and I think they are now carousing over some old whisky which they discovered. Please, sir, rescue my poor father, who is an invalid at the best of times." Ned was much moved at the earnest re- quest of this helpless girl. He had never possessed a sister nor a "best girl," but he was none the less sympathetic, and with true manly in- stinct was ready at once to help a weaker fellow-mortal, whether man or woman. "You had better, perhaps, remain in your hiding-place," said Ned to the girl. "We will come to you soon. "Hurry, boys; we will soon fire these rascals out of here, or know the reason why! Come! "Halt!" he cried, as they reached the outside of the house. " Halt, yerself !" mocked a voice on the nside. The men were evidently getting excited and reckless with the liquor they had consumed. "Come out of that!" called Ned, sternly. " Nothing of the kind; don't have to!" was the insolent reply. " I warn you to come out of that house and to leave everything as you found it," Ned shouted through the open door. "Also release the man you have thrown into the cellar." "Go (hie) er thunder!" stuttered one fellow, who was evidently getting drunk. " Is that the way to address an officer of the United States army?" asked the first speaker. "Boys," said Ned, quietly, "gointtere, half a dozen of you, and run those felJows out." The men were only too eager to execute this order. They rushed into the room where the scoundrels were lying on the floor or lol- ling upon the chairs, and grabbed them in short order. They brought them out to the Lieuten- ant, who waited for them upon the ver- anda. He was leaning slightly upon his sword. But he almost fell when he saw the fast of the pillagers captured by his men. It was the very man he wanted ! The fellow who had done him so mi. ay wrongs. He was less affected by whisky than the other three. Ned was startled, but he quickly recoV' ered his soldierly bearing. "You scoundrel!" he said, very sternly, "you are common thieves and robbers, and worse. With no excuse or authority you desecrate a home, maltreat an old and sick man, and behave like brutes to his daughter. Soldiers? Bah! Dirty, low, thieving impostors. Sergeant, strip those three fellows 1 backs and give them ten lashes apiece with a stout switch. Then let them go, without coats or shirts, to show folks what kind of men they are. As for that other villain, who dares to wear the Federal uniform, we will take him along. I have an old score to settle with him!" The three robbers squirmed and pleaded for mercy as the switch was vigorously plied upon their backs. When the thrashing was over, however, they sneaked away. "Bind that fellow's hands behind him," said Ned, pointing to the would-be leader of the plundering gang. "Don't give him half a chance to escape. Now, wait here until I go to the cellar." Ned found the girl's father and released him, and then went to find the young lady. She was profuse in her thanks, as was the old man. She hoped they would become better acquainted in quieter and happier times, and Ned said he realty hoped so too. But Ned had no time then for social pleasures, so with his prisoner he quickly returned to the little camp where Gen- eral Dixon anxiously awaited him. CHAPTER XVII. THE CHICKEN SCRAPE. When Ned reported all that had trans- GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 21 pired to General Dixon, that officer was for making short work of the prisoner. He suggested hanging the rascal to the nearest tree, there and then. "But, no," said Ned. "I have no doubt as to his guilt in many ways. Of course I have just caught him in the act of terrifying a young lady and robbing her father; beside which he assaulted me and would have taken my life on that night long ago, had not Chuck frightened him off. Still, General, these things should not be punished with death." "My dear fellow, you know of other things he is guilty of, for which death is too good a punishment!" "Yes, sir, in my mind and in your mind we have no doubt this man murdered my poor father. But can we prove it, and should we hang or shoot the wretch until we can?" " Heavens and earth, Ned, do you want to set him free?" "No, I do not! I want to see him pun- ished. But if he is to die I want him to die by a just sentence, and not from my personal spite, sir. That would be little short of murder in me." "What would you do, then?" "I would have him taken to headquar- ters, and tried before a court-martial of unprejudiced officers." " On what charge?" "Of being a spy. You know he en- listed into our regiment not long ago. Or, if that cannot be proven, he can at least be charged with being a deserter, for he deserted the next day, or before." " Supposing you cannot sustain either charge?" « "Then I will telegraph to Muggletown to the Sheriff of our county, to come down here and arrest him on the charge of shooting my old schoolmate, Jemmy Sheldon, two or three years ago. Oh, I have lots of old scores to fall back upon; and Lawyer Turrell, of our town, would only be too willing to assist me in bring- ing the fellow to his just deserts." While the General and our friend were talking over the matter that then most interested them, they heard the sound of angry voices approaching them quite rapidly. "You're a confounded, thieving nig- ger!" / "Dat's not so, sah!" "You're an old black vagabond!" ' Doan you call a colored gen'inan no tiack vagabone, sah! I'se no thieving r'ggah, sah!" "You're a lying old chicken-thief!" I'se no sech a thing, boss, an' I'll leave it to de General or Mars' Ned." " I'll leave it to the General; and as to Master Ned, I'll raise Ned for you." The General and "Ned both smiled loudly at each other as they overheard these fragments of rather warm conversa- tion. "My cook seems to have got into trouble," said the senior officer. "Well, sir, you can trust to Chuck to wiggle himself out of a scrape He is one of the luckiest Qf darkies. Here they come." "Yes," said the General, "and I'll wager they'll both appeal to me. What shall I do!" "Give them both a hearing, sir." "But my dear Ned, such a case would tax the wisdom of a Solomon. As a man, I am decidedly in favor of standing by a good cook and spring chickens for break- fast. As an officer I shall, I fear, be com- pelled to punish the cook and give up the chickens." "Compromise, General, compromise," said Ned, who, after a profusion of hard tack and salt pork, was not quite indiff- erent to the delicate food. ♦ "How now? What's all this?" asked the General, with sternness, as Chuck and an old Tennessee farmer came tumb- ling up together. They were both so busy calling each other pet names that they neither of them noticed their close proximity to the officers until the General called to them. They looked up sheepishly, and then both commenced together. "General," yelled the old man, "this black rogue " "Mars' Ned, now is I a thieving nig- gah, sah? Is I " "Silence!" roared General Dixon. "What is all this noise and trouble about? One at a time, now. You, sir, as you are a stranger, may speak first." "General, this colored fellow, whom 1 suspect is your servant, has been robbing my poultry-yard. I caught him in the act with four chickens in his possession, I made him drop a pair of them, but be still has two — one in ' each of his coat pockets." As if to prove the old man's assertion, there was heard just then a mysterious cackling. The noise emanated from Chuck's pocket, and all eyes being turned just then in that direction, Chuck certainly became uneasy and lost his usual equa- nimity. As one little hen's head peeked over the top of one of Chuck's capacious pockets, the two officers could scarce re- press a smile. General Dixon tried to look angry and asked: " You hear these accusations, Chuck; what have you to say in reply?" 22 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. Chuck was himself again. "Idoan deny, Mars 1 General Dixon, sah, dat de ole man's chickens be in dis yer'niggah's possession, sah. But when er ole dried up Souverner liked at ar call er honest colored man er t'ievin' niggah, sah, he done tell er lie, Mars' General!" "Then von acknowledge that you stole the birds, "Chuck?" "No, sah; I 'knowledge noffin' ob de kind, sah. Here is de birds, sut'ny, but dis yer niggah didn't stole Viu." "Did you buy them, then?" "No, sah, I did not." "What then?" •• Well, Miirs' General Dixon, sah, 'twas this way: I done take er walk off yon- (i '!i, sah. an' 1 cume by er chicken-coop. F.is t'iug I know, sah, I hear my name e illen, sah, dis yer way ' Chuck, Chuck, ( Chock!' Coarse, sah, I go ter rind who' call me. I looks all eround at>' see no- body. Den 1 hear it ag'in — 'Chuck, Ohriek, Cliuck, Chuck, Chuck!' Dis yer time I knows 'twas inside de chicken- coop, so I walks right in. I say. '"What want of Chuck?' an' I gets no answer, sah. So I come right out, an' fus 1 t'ing I know I find my arms an' my pockets tilled wid chickens. Den dis yer ole mommy-man he say I take his chickens. which ain't so. Dey come to me ob deir own accord, sah, an' choose ter stay wif me. I say ter deni, 'Whose chickens are you, den?' an' dey say, 'Chuck, Chuck, Chuck!' whereby dey 'knowledge dey done b'long di§ yer niggah!" The General and Ned laughed right out at this ingenuous defense of Chuck's. "If you will allow me, General, I will try and manage this difference of opin- ion," said our hero. " By all means, Lieutenant." "Now, my man," said Ned, "I sup- pose you don't want to press this case, which you haven't yet proven. Will you sell these birds?" " Yes, I'll sell .them — at my price." " Name your price." "Six dollars each." "Nonsense!" "I mean it." "You mean six dollars to us and sixty cents to Rebels. Is that it?" " Perhaps so," said the man, sullenly. "That will do," interrupted General Dixon. "I will settle this. My good man, you have euchered yourself. As senior officer here of the United States army, I say that your chickens will be forfeited as food for the army. We don't show much favor to people like you, so yon will act wisely by making tracks. I will give you just five minutes to get; out of sight. Chuck, you can go." To tell the truth, General Dixon break- fasted heartily on the Rebel's chicken? the next morning, and Ned, who was his guest, joined in the feast. His next breakfast Ned took at his old quarters, at the officers' mess of the Ken- tucky Sirkmishers, where his old chief, Colonel Barker, presided. CHAPTER XVIII. THE COURT-MARTIAL. About the time that Ned and his friend the General reached the army, every- thing was pretty quiet. There had been no fighting for some weeks, and none was expected. The General in command of the army was away at Washington, whither he had gone to consult with the chiefs of the War Department and the President. In histibsence a General of Volunteers was in charge, but on General Dixon's arrival he resigned the nominal command in favor of that officer. This was because General Dixon, being in the regular army, outranked the Gen- eral of Volunteers. The man Watson (for such we will call him) was turned over to the proper authorities and placed in the field prison. General Dixon was himself anxious to see Watson tried, couvicted and punished, but did not feel like trying the case him- self. He knew that he was biased: and, beside, he wished to appear, if necessary, as a witness, and perhaps give some strong and damning evidence. General Dixon therefore directed Col- onel Barker of the Kentucky Skirmisher.-. to preside over a court-martial. At ten o'clock, therefore, on the day following Ned's arrival in camp the pris- oner was brought before the court-mar- tial. This court consisted of Colonel Barker, who presided, assisted by two or three of his subordinate officers. There were also present the Judge-Aci- vocate of the district and a stenographer, and also a large number of soldiers who! might be called upon to give evidence. "What offense is this man charged with?" asked the Court. "With enlisting into the regiment of Kentucky Skirmishers as a spy," replied the Judge- Advocate. "Can the case be proven?" "It can. We charge that this fellow, Watson, alias Smith, alias Trinkner, was and is a spy in the service of the Confed- erates. As a matter of fact he was taken in the act, and had he not escaped when he did, would have been shot without a GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. L'3 hearing. He escaped, however, and thereby doubly proved his guilt." "So far," said the Court, ''the prisoner has only been proven guilty of desertion, which 1 believe lie does not deny.' 1 "We are fully prepared to prove the other charge. Lieutenant Trinkner, step forward, please.'' Ned stepped up and took the oath. "Now, Lieutenant, will you please tell the Court all that you know of this man?'' Ned commenced, and told how he had first seen him when, a lad at home, he was playing at war on the hillside. He also told of the counterfeit money transaction between Watson and Charley Stiles, and then proceeded, at some length, to give an account of his own adventure on the lonely road, when he had acted as a spe- cial messenger forGeneral Dixon. Every- body listened attentively as Ned with much modesty told his story. But they were still more interested as our hero went on to speak of more recent events. He gave a thrilling account of the sur- prise which his men experienced in meet- ing the Rebel cavalry detachment, and his own hand-to-hand encounter with his former friend, Charley Stiles. "Before we go further,' 1 said Ned, "I would respectfully ask the Court to order the prisoner to write without any sort of hesitation his name — or his assumed name 5 — Watson." "The prisoner will do that," said the Court. "Give him pen and ink and a sheet of paper. Prisoner, write, and write quickly." " Also," said Ned, "will the Court have him write 'Captain Stiles 1 ?" "Ilcl*. Prisoner, do so." "And now," continued Ned, "I will read a letter which I found in the saddle- holster of Captain StilesV horse, which 1 captured and afterward rode. This is the brief communication: Captain Stiles: — Take your men to the nine acre lot north of the Salem woods, one mile east of the Rugby Creek, to-morrow at daybreak. You will easily capture a Union officer and a squad of ten men. Watson. "Will the Court read that missive, and compare the writing with what the pris- oner has just written?" Ned handed the dirty scrap of paper to Colonel Barker, who examined it closely and compared it with the writing he already held. Then he passed it to those officers who sat with him as court-martial. "Proceed," he said; "is there anything else?" " If the Court please," said the man of law, " we will examine one other witness. General Dixon, this way, sir. "Now, General,'' he went on, after ad- ministering the usual oath. • ■ "My evidence will be brief," said the General. "I have simply to say that some days ago the prisoner presented himself to me with a request for a pass. For several reasons my suspicions were aroused, so I put the man off and told him tosee me again. For reasons best known to the prisoner he never came again fur the pass." "Thank you. General; now we will call upon a reliable colored witness. We do not need him, but his evidence will corroborate Lieutenant Trinkner's some- what." By dint of much persuasion Chuck was made to take the oath. But as he did so he acted strangely, and his eyes seemed riveted on the pris- oner. Ned saw that Watson was eying Chuck with a fixed glance, his cold eyes glittering like steel. And Chuck never uttered a word. They coaxed, persuaded, threatened and teased; but all to no purpose. Chuck was dumb. He was under a spell. But not many beside Ned dreamed that the prisoner had worked the spell. "That is all," said the Judge-Advo- cate. Silence fell over the court as the Col- onel again examined the papers in his hand. You could have heard a pin drop. "Has the prisoner anything to say? Is there any reason why the Court should not pass sentence?" And there was a yet deeper silence as the prisoner, taking his eyes off Chuck for the first time, said: " May it please the Court " CHAPTER XIX. WATSON'S STORY. Every eye was turned upon the pris- oner. Every man in the large tent looked upon Watson as practically condemned already. They looked upon him, not with the common interest they would have dis- played toward a man liable to be sen- tenced to a term of years in a military prison, but as a man whose days were numbered. A man who was soon to suffer the extreme penalty of the law. For, mind you, a military sentence of death gave no time nor opportunity to the unfortunate culprit for thoughtful reflection and preparation. It meant death, and sr»eedy death. 24 GEN. DIXON'S BOT AIDE. It meant hanging, perhaps, or shoot- ing, anyhow, at sunrise the next niOrn- in '. So every eye was focused upon Watson, and every ear was bent to catch the words he was about to speak in his own defence. The man was a good talker, as every- one was forced to admit before very long. "May it please the Court," he said, 44 by your permission I should like very briefly to relate the story of a life. Some forty-eight years ago, in the North-east- ern part of old Kentucky, there was born a baby-boy. Tradition has it that he was a fine babe, and his mother loved him dearly. " So did his father. " His father lo,ved him so well and was so proud of him that in course of time he made him his heir, and when that father died, he left his boy Dick the old home- stead and other valuable property. "Dick was then a lad of twenty, and, so the neighbors said, a fine lad. Having lost the home which his father made for him (his mother was long since dead), Dick took the first steps to make a home of his own. " He met, loved, and wooed a fair Ken- tucky girl, and three years later the couple were married. " Dick's wife 'was by no means penni- less. " She joined to Dick's fortune a snug little income of her own. "They lived happily together in the little Kentucky town where they made their home, and a year after the wed- ding-day a baby-girl came to gladden their hearts. "But the baby died, and the young couple counted their first angel in heaven. "Then several years passed quietly, when the smoothness of their lives was broken by the advent of a son. " If the mother loved that little child the father worshiped it. "Mother and father vied with each other in trying to make his young life a happy one. "They thought they succeeded, and as a consequence all three were perfectly happy. " But perfect happiness is ever liable to be rudely destroyed. " Reverses came to the young father, and before he knew it, he had lost every penny of his fortune. "But he was a proud man. He would not touch his wife's property. "'No,' he said, frequently; 'keep it wife, for yourself. You will then always have something, and when our little Ned grows up you will be able to do some- thing; for him.' "When little Ned was scarce three years old, the memorable year of forty- nine arrived, and the gold fever broke out. "Ned's father thought he might re- trieve his fallen fortunes in a short space of time. "So, bidding wife and child a tender farewell, lie gathered what was left of hife money, and started across the plains to California. "It was a sad parting, gentlemen," said the prisoner, with a quiver in his voice. "Wife and husband bade each other a long good-by; they never saw each other more, and perchance never will. Long before little Ned's father returned, the wife had gone to join her baby-girl up yonder." Here the pleading prisoner paused, quite overcome. As the finger of his right hand pointed upward he wiped a tear from his eye with the back of his other brown hand. There were few dry eyea in that court. At last Colonel Barker motioned him to proceed. " When that young man left his home, gentlemen, he left all that was good and pure and holy for him. He left behind him all the gentle and restraining influ- ences of his youth and early manhood. "When he got across the Mississippi River he took his first downward step. " He gambled, and won. "He gambled again, and lost. " Then he drank. "Then he sunk to all the depths of degradation known to humanity. "In one of his drunken spells he fell among thieves, who robbed him and drugged him, and after half killing him left hiin for dead. "The once happy Dick thought the world was against him, so he soured on the world. "He seemed possessed of a devil. "He forgot all about home, and wife, and child. " His heart was a stone. "Earth was hell to him, and he pro^ ceeded, as quickly as he could, to make it a hell for all around him. " But the end of the spell had to come. " It was after many years. "But it came. "Then, repentant and sorrowful, he bent his steps to the Kentucky home, only to find it broken up. "The wife of his youth was dead. " His boy did not remember or recog- nize him. " The unhappy father cursed his fate, and swore at his ill-fortune. "All his good resolutions were forgot- ten. GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 25 " He went back to all his evil practices and took up again his life of sin. "He even attacked his own boy, and right near his old home tried to palm off some the queer. In fact he did so in trade for a horse. " Many other wicknesses and crimes did did this man commit, and narrowly es- caped capture, imprisonment and death. " But once more, with a stronger and deeper yearning than ever, returned the love for his boy— the boy of himself and his early love. " He felt that he must find his boy and be reconciled to him. " He resorted to all sorts of expedients to reach and watch that boy of his, who had now become an officer in the Union army. "He enlisted and deserted — but before God, gentlemen, not as a spy! " He did ask officers for passes to carry him through the lines — but never as a spy! " He used false names — but not to play traitor! "I stand before this Court, the man of whom I have myself been speaking — Dick — unfortunate, miserable, and un- happy, but more sinned against than sinning. But I am no traitor; no spy! "I am Richard Trinkner! It is my blood which flows through the veins of yonder gallant young warrior! My heart is true to the North and the old flag! "I own I am weak; that the demon drink is often my master — but that is the worst; that is the worst!" For a second there was silence. The scene was intensely dramatic as the prisoner fell upon his knees, and ex- tending his hands toward Lieutenant Trinkner, burst into a fit of passionate weeping. " Oh, Ned, my son! My own boy, take your wretched father's outstretched hand and say a word for him! Oh, my God! my God!" And now all eyes turned upon our hero. But Ned stood motionless and pale as a statue. He was terribly moved, and the strain upon his nerves was fearful. It was a painful moment for the entire assembly. CHAPTER XX. THE SPY SENTENCED TO DEATH. Ned was dumfounded. He knew not what to think. The words — eloquent words — of the prisoner had created a marked impression upon him, as they had, indeed, upon all who heard them uttered. It seemed hard to think that the touch- ing story related by the prisoner could be false. And yet Ned knew it to be so. So did General Dixon. The rest of the Court, including the members of the court-martial, began to think there was some terrible mistake. But although deeply moved and almost nonplussed, Ned felt no tenderness to- ward the man who said he was his father. Even as the prisoner knelt before him with extended arms, Ned felt no inclina- tion to take the outstretched hands in v his own. The sobs of the wretched man pained him, but they touched no responsive chord' in Ned's heart. Yet, for the moment, our hero felt that he might be running a risk of doing some injustice. Colonel Barker broke the silence. "Lieutenant Trinkner," he said, "it seems as if the statement we have heard should call for some reply from you. It is strange if there is not some way for you to surely ascertain if this man's story is true. What have you to say, Lieuten- ant?" "Sir," said Ned, hoarsely, averting his eyes from the kneeling prisoner, "that this man is not my father I am certain. But if the Court pleases, I would like to have this case adjourned until to-mor- row. At all events, I would ask to have sentence deferred." " It is unnecessary," said General Dixon, who had by this time gotten over the temporary excitement caused by the prisoner's impassioned speech of defense. "If the Court will permit, I will take the stand again." Briefly, concisely but with much clear- ness, the General told the story of his sick visitor on the plains in '49. He related, as we have already heard him tell it to Ned, the particulars of that night and morning, and of the subsequent finding of the body of the murdered Richard Trinkner. Although a man of few words, the intense earnestness of General Dixon told as much upon his audience as the speech of the prisoner had previously done. On one man, at least, they had a fearful effect. The man Watson, almost uncon- sciously, slowly, inch by inch, arose from his kneeling position. He straightened right up, and, before he knew it, was bending forward, drinking in every sylla- ble uttered by the witness. His eyes protruded from their sockets and his jaw dropped listlessly. His fin- gers were clutched tightly, starting the blood from the palms of his hands. His I whole appearance was haggard in the ex- 26 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE., treme, the expression on his face being the hopeless gaze of a man who saw fast approaching the day of doom. ■•There," said the General, as he handed Colonel Barker an old stocking with a name marked on it in faded let- ters, "there, sir, in the sock which I took from off the murdered man, is the proof of Richard Trinkner's death. And, there, gentleman, stands not only Richard Trinkner's impersonator, but Richard T r i n kn e r's murderer!" 1 With a wild look upon his distorted features, the prisoner gasped, with the awt'utness of despair: •■ It is a lie. a damnable lie!" "Liar yourself!" said a voice, familiar at least to Ned. "Let me in, sergeant; let me in, sir, I say! I demand to be admitted!" All these words were uttered by the same person, who was struggling with the sergeant of the guard at the door for ad- mission. "Order!" cried the Clerk. " What is it?" asked Colonel Barker. "An old man, sir; a civilian; says he must be admitted."' "Of course, of course!" shouted the man, who was trying to push his way past the sergeant. "I have important evidence. I demand to be sworn!" "Admit him, sergeant," said the Col- onel. "Thank you, your honor. How do, Ned?" said "the old man as he entered, followed by a much younger man, who was a stranger to Ned. It was Squire Turrell of Muggletown! " May it please the Court," he went on, 'it seems to me I have arrived in the nick of time. Swear me, your honor." The old lawyer was not used to practic- ing before a court martial, and addressed the president, Colonel Barker, as if he were a civil magistrate. The customary oath was administered. "Your honor," said Mr. Turrell, "I was in the entrance and heard every word of the prisoner's hypocritical story. It is not his first piece of hypocrisy by any means. 'Let me relate, in a few words, a story. " In Cairo, Illinois, some forty-five years ago, there was born a boy. He was a bad one from the start, and when only fifteen years of age, he was given the option of leaving the town or receiving, a coat of tar and feathers. He shipped as a deck-hand on an Ohio River packet. He could not behave himself there, a?nd the Captain put him ashore one night, not far from Muggletown, Kentucky. There Richard Trinkner, only a year or two older than himself, befriended him, and tried to make a man of him. But he failed, and for all his kindness the Cairo boy rewarded him by robbing him, at the end of two years, of his money. It is needless to say the robber jumped the town. The boy went West to St. Louis, and from petty robbery went to greater wickedness. Finally Ids only safety lay in the plains, away from police and law. For ten years he roamed the plains, and during the excitement of '49 Ue robbed and murdered to his heart's content. •■ At the close of '49 he was in Memphis, Tennessee, where he was arrested foi horse- stealing. From his person the Chief of Police took many trinkets, and among them were these two articles. They are a ring and watch. Both were the prop- erty of my old and murdered friend, Dick Trinkner. This rascal's name was Jo Smith, alias Hank Watson, alias half a dozen other fictitious names. That is all, your honor. This man I have brought with me would like to be sworn." The stranger took the stand. "Your name?" asked the Court. "James Mildmay." " Occupation?" " Court stenograper." " Residence?" "Chicago." "Let us bear what you have to say." "Only this, sir. In '491 was clerk toth« Chief of Police at Memphis, Tennessee. One day a tall, wiry, evil-looking man was arrested for horse-stealing. He was' brought to the Chiefs office, and by the. Chief's direction his pockets were emp- tied. Among other things yonder watch and ring were taken, and laid aside to be claimed. After awhile I bought them of the city. The prisoner is the man who was arrested at Memphis, and who after- ward broke jail. He was known to be a desperate character, and gave his name as "Watson. That is all." "How came you to be here, Mr. Mild- may." " I was looked up by a detective in the employ of Mr. Turrell." " Thank you." Once more there was absolute silence in court. The pen of the clerk could be heard. and the rustle of papers in the hands o\ Colonel Barker. Colonel Barker's lips moved. "Prisoner at the bar. You are ad judged a murderer and a spy. The mur- der is only proven in evidence to refute your own false defense. That you had reasons of your own for acting the part of a spy is not to the point. The punish ment reserved for a spy is death by hang ing. The sentence of" the Court, there- fore, is, that you be taken from hern GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 27 under guard to the prison; from thence, at sunrise to-morrow morning:, yon shall be taken from the prison to a suitable plaee of execution, and there be hanged by the neck until you are dead." The drama in Ned Trinkner's life, in which the prisoner Watson had played so important and tragical a part, was well nigh over. The true fate of our hero's unfortunate father was satisfactorily proven, and the fate of his murderer was now assured. A terrible load with its consequent strain was removed from Ned's mind, and after all the stirring events of the day he slept soundly. It was, as it seemed, in the dead of night when Ned was rudely awakened. It was still dark, though, as a matter of fact, it was about four o'clock in the morning. The noise that awoke Ned was the explosion of a monster shelL Every man in that camp of the ten thousand men awoke and turned out. But there was perfect order, and every movement was made with military pre- cision. A fire was blazing away to the left of the camp. It was the location of the prison. The prison was afire! '•Stand by! Ready!" was the order which ran all through the camp. Everyone knew that the shell had been fired by the enemy. "Captain Wilson, take your company and extinguish the fire. Also secure the prisoners." It was Colonel Barker who gave the orders. Captain Wilson's company included Lieutenant Triukner. They hurried to the blazing prison, which was a small, wooden structure. ^ When they reached it the building was almost burned out, and what was not burned was shattered by the explosion. As well as they could they subdued the flames, and then a fearful sight met their gaze. Beneath the charred embers and black- ened logs and boards was a human body. It was mutilated beyond description. It was torn to shreds by fragments of the iron shell. And this ragged, bleeding body was burned to a crisp. It was the prisoner, Watson. Verily, vengeance had overtaken him, for a more fearful death than hanging was his. Ned turned away, sick and sorrowful. But he had other work before him, now. CHAPTER XXI. V K J) I H BATTLE. But there was no time nor opportunity just then to waste on sentiment. Something sterner than sentiment now stared Ned and his comrades in the face. The solitary shell which burst in their midst with such telling effect was only a forerunner of more deadly missives. And this "the boys " knew full well. The enemy had surprised them. For many weeks this army had done practically nothing. % But it was only the calm before the threatening storm. Hostilities had now reopened and a battle was imminent. It was only a small army, being but a portion of the Army of the Tennessee. The Commanders had no notion that the enemy was at all near them. It was a genuine surprise. This shot meant business. Experienced officers knew that the Rebels would never have fired the firs: shot unless they were in great strengh and meant to follow it up. In the cold gray dawn of morning all was bustle and commotion. Tents were struck and piled into bag- gage-wagons. Provisions and spare ammunition fol- lowed suit. With an escort, all these things were sent to the rear. Bugles called the men to various posi- tions and to various duties. Horses neighed, swords clanked, and the tramp of many feet sounded through the morning air. Above everything could be heard the hoarse orders given by the Commanders' aids, who flitted bither and thither. Although General Dixon was the senior officer, anil therefore in nominal com- mand of the army, he was an officer of engineers. So, with his usual wisdom, he gave way to the General of Volunteers, who had really had far more experience of actual fighting. This was General Armstrong. He hastily summoned a council of war. The result was that he speedily divided his ariiiy into three divisions. The tirst, consisting entirely of infantry and one battery of artillery, was to hold their present position. All the available cavalry was ordered to make a detour and come up behind the enemy, where they could harass them considerably. The cavalry troops were to go to the left and so reach the enemy's rear. Meanwhile the largest "division, con- 28 GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. sisting of infantry and three batteries of field artillery, was to move rapidly to the right. The object was to steal a march on the enemy, and, before they could attack the Union army's position on the river bank, open a fierce, sudden and unexpected at- tack on the Confederates. To this division was assigned the regi- ment of Kentucky Skirmishers and of course Lieutenant Trinkner was with them. Little an old warrior, Ned pricked up his ears and'smelled the battle afar off. He was eager for the conflict. This was the life that suited Ned. It was better, far better for him than hunting down criminals like the wretched Watson. After the terrible strain and excitement of the past forty-eight hours, the chance of a fierce struggle with his country's enemies seemed to him almost like recrea- tion. His fingers itched to grasp his trusty sword. He loaded up his two old friends (his trusty revolvers) and stuck them in his belt. His feet tingled, he longed to hear the order to Crash! It was another shell. Crash! Crash! Crash! Ah! The attack had begun in ear- nest. General Dixon, who was an expert judge of distance in firing, gave it as his opinion that the enemy were firing from the crest of the ridge, some three and a half miles away. They might be covering with these shells the advance of the attacking force. There was no time to lose. " Mark — time!" " March!" " Quick — march!" The orders rang down the lines through regiment after regiment like volleys of musketry. The men shouldered their muskets, bent themselves to their task, and marched like cadets on a parade-ground. Onward moved the large division. Gen- eral Armstrong himself riding at the head of the boys. But if the gallant Commander was at the head, he was pressed closely by the leading regiment, They were the hero-veterans of a dozen battles; the boys of the Kentucky Skir- mishers. Onward they pressed, panting and eager for the fray. Up, up, up! Onward and upward, climbing the steep hillside through woods and under- brush, until in the mists of the early morning they seemed to be piercing into the very clouds. Bang! Rattle! Whir! Rattle! Whiz! The Kentucky boys had pressed right into the enemy's lines, and wore met by a volley of deadly bullets. But they were ready. They fought like tigers. But they were ahead of their support. They had to fall back, but they re treated in good order. Again and again they assaulted the strong position of the Rebels. Again and again they were repulsed. All day loner, at different points of that sloping hillside, the battle raged furi- ously, and when night came neither sida had surrendered. The sun had just set behind the western hills when General Armstrong, who was himself a brave and determined fighter, again came to his tired soldiers, whower« well-nigh worn out. "Once more, boys! If we can dislodga that devilish battery of theirs which ig throwing all the deadly shells down below, we shall have them foul. Comet they think we are through!" Bravely the boys rallied around then intrepid leader, and again they fought their way through solid linas of infantry, inch by inch. They did their work well. They spiked the guns and mortars oj the Rebels' death-dealing battery. " Hurrah !" shouted General Armstrong, who was now afoot, his horse having been shot. " Hurrah!" echoed Colonel Barker and our friend Ned, who were fighting brave* ly, shoulder to shoulder. Their work completed successfully, tht commander ordered the bugler to souncj a retreat. The enemy was coming up. They had been reinforced, and theii chief had only just become aware of tha fresh assault on his battery. Down came a shower of shot! Bullets flew thick and fast. The Union boys fled as best they could down the hillside. But many fell right there. Darkness was coming on, and upon that field of slaughter, side by side, laj three men. It was a strange group. An elderly man, a veteran soldier antf General of U. S. Volunteers. A young man, a mere lad, but also an army officer. And a colored ma'i—- a middle-aged ne- gro. General Dixon, j*Ted Trickier and Chuck. GEN. DIXON'S BOY AIDE. 29 All were badly wounded, and Chuck was dying. " Ah, Mars' Ned, guess T'se gwine ter frow Lp de sponge, sah! Guess dis yer coon's a goner, Mars 1 Ned." "Cheer up. Chuck, old fellow," said Ned cheerfully, although be was in great pain. How came you here?" "Well, sab, I jes' nat'rally had to. I was a dyin' fer to grapple wid some of dese yer dirty Rebs, sah. So I fell in wid de boys, sah. But I'se a goner, suah. An I'se suffin ter 'fess, Mars' Ned." "To confess? What is it, Chuck?" " I knowed, Mars' Ned, all de time, dat Hank Watson he done murder po' Mars' Trinkner, sah. But I was terrible scart of Hank, sah, 'cause he done threaten me an' make dis yer niggah take a awful oath, sah. I'se awful sorry, sab, but now I'se 'fessed I'll die easier." "Well never mind that, Chuck. Only don't lose heart; you'll get out of this all right." But the next time Ned looked. around at his old servant and nurse, Chuck was dead. Suddenly upon the still air could be heard the clank of spurs and the heavy thud of horses' feet. "Cavalry," muttered General Arm-, strong, ominousl}\ "Rebel cavalry in force, chasing our fellows. They are coming this way. Heavens, they will gallop right over us!" Sure enough, a large troop of Confeder- ate horsemen was approaching. They were right on to them. Another minute and hoofs would be pounded into them. Ned thought a hundred things. He thought of Muggletown and his friends there. He thought how young he was and how he would like to live. He loved life and all that it contained. But he knew there was a man near him whose life just then might be worth a great deal to his country. Ned was brave. He was also quick to act. He had to be quick, or it would be too late. With an effort, wounded as he was, he threw himself upon General Armstrong, his entire length being stretched along the General's body. Clatter! Clatter! Clatter! Thud! Thud! Thud! On came the heavy cavalry, riding swiftly their cruel horses. Ned felt a ringing blowon his head and a pain in his back for just an instant. And he knew nothing more until he awoke in a quiet hospital tent in the camp of the "Union army. It was another close call for Ned, but he was alive, and while there was life there was hope. Ned was the hero of the hour. He had saved his commander's life and proven himself the bravest of the brave. He had been rescued from that field of dead and dying in the dead of night. Yes, he was alive; but not much more. His fighting days were over. He lay in the field-hospital for weeks, and then he was sent on {a. first lieuten- ant, however,) to- Washington, to be nursed in the hospital there and to be treated by skillful surgeons. His wounds and bruises were fearful, and his internal injuries were extremely severe. But he recovered enough to sit up and ride. And then he was given a year's fur- lough, and at the expense of the Govern- ment was sent to winter in the milder cli- mate of California. He sailed from New York in an English steamer for the Isthmus, which was the only way in those days for invalids to reach the Pacific Coast. It was hoped that the sea voyage and a milder climate would do our hero much good. And they did. CHAPTER XXII. CONCLUSION. The war was over. All its horror and sorrow were things of the past. Such a dreadful past, indeed, that not a whole generation of years have sufficed to blot its terrible truth from our memo- ries. Forever more must it remain a page in our National history. And yet it is not altogether a dark page. ( There was and always will be a good deal of luster to it. It is illuminated with the bravery, hardihood and patriotism ot men and boys. It is brightened by the love and self- sacrificing devotion of noble women. These things have provided the dark cloud with a silver lining. Such lads as our friend, Ned Trinkner, help to reconile us to the war. Such courage as his, and such devoted- ness to the sacred cause of country and the old flag, make us almost glad that the great war occurred to bring out the hir 1 den virtues of our boys. But the war was over, and after ^ winter under California skies Ned Trink- 30 GEN. DIXONo BOY AIDE. ner was once more at his old home in Muggletown, Kentucky. It seemed good for him to be home. Jj'or although there were many sad mem- ories and many missing faces even there, it all seemed so peaceful and quiet and happy. Anil every one was so glad to see our hero. Even after he had been home a week $ seemed to Ned that he could not move out of the hotel (where he made Ins head- quarters) without being grabbed by the hand and shaken. And the old folks were proud to have one of the genuine Muggletown boys, horn and raised in their midst, back among them, a real live officer. " How do, Lieutenant!' 1 '"Morning, Lieutenant!" "Mr. Jones, this here is Lieutenant Trinkner, one of our boys, sir!"'" "Ah, glad to meet you, Lieutenant!" That was about the way it sounded to Fed all the time when he set his foot outside his room door. It was a lovely day in May. Ned had been home two or three weeks, and was more his own self than he had been since his accident- on the battle- held. There were great goings-on in Muggle- town. Drums were bearing. Bands were playing. Flags streamed from the church-spires and public buildings. Horns were tooting. All the stores were gayly decked in bunting. Muggletown was in its holiday attire. The citizens were going to give the veterans of their town a reception. Money was no object. Good things to eat and drink were in profusion. That day "the boys " were simply to give what they wanted "a name," and they were to have it. There Avas to be a great pow-wow on the puhlic square in the afternoon, and in the evening a magnificent banquet in the Court House. Some great men were to honor the oc- casion with their presence. Distinguished neighbors, great states- men and veteran Generals. At two o'clock the speech-making com- menced on the square. The Mayor of Muggletown presided, and made a speech of welcome to "the boys" who had come back from the war. He was followed by the Congressman I from that district, who made a thrilling oration. Then an old friend of ours, General Dixon, took the platform. There were rounds of applause, for the General had done his country much good service. He tried to speak, but they only cheered the harder. There was momentary quiet, and the General seized the opportunity. "My friends," he said, "if I cannot make a speech it is all right, for I am no speechmaker. But I am bound to say just one thing. I have a fine young friend among your citizens. He is a. gallant lad, a brave soldier, an excellent officer, and a fine fellow all around. His name is Lieu- tenant Ned Trinkner, and this roll of parchment concerns him. "Let me read it aloud to you, my friends." Strict silence was accorded as the Gen- eral read, in his loudest tones: Know all men by these present*: Our trusty friend and citizen. Edward Trink- ner, of Kentucky, and a Lieutenant of UnitedStates Volunteers, is, and is here- by appointed to be, a Captain of United States Volunteers. • Given under our hand and seal, at Washington, this tenth day of May, 18G5. Andrew Johnson, President. By the President: Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War. "Gentlemen and ladies, friends ail," continued General Dixon, "let me pre- sent to you my dear young comrade, a shining credit to vour town, Captain Ned Trinkner!" Well, the applause and yelling was sim- ply deafening, and cheer after cheer went up. Cries of "Captain Ned!" arose from all parts of the square, and our hero was obliged to make his way on to the plat- form, where he was heartily welcomed. But that was not all. Lawyer Turrell forced his way to the front, and on behalf of Ned's old friends and neighbors handed to the newly- made Captain a most magnificent dress sword. The blade was of purest Damascus steel, and the scabbard was of rich silver figured in gold. Near the hilt was a suitable inscrip- tion. Ned was much moved, so that he could not make a speech. But he managed to wave his cap and to feebly shout: GEN DIXON'S HOY AIDE. SI " Hurrah for old Kentucky and for the old flag!" Weli, it was a great day for shouting and Cheering and congratulations!. But it is doubtful if there was a hap- pier young man in the world that day than our hero, Captain Ned, or a fellow- citizen who was more glad to see him than ex-Captain Charley Stiles! The time has come for us to bid Ned farewell, which we do with some reluc- tance. Rumor has it that he settled clown a? a good and honored citizen in his native town; and there is a whisper that before many years he found the pretty girl whom he aided once, when Watson had taken possession of her fath- er's house. That, however, is only hear- say. Bat be sure of. this. As the twig is bent the tree is inclined. And if Ned Trinkner in his boyhood's days was brave, fearless, noble and honorable, there is little fear he failed to carry these traits with him into later life. Au Hevoir, Captian Ned! THE GEM LIBRARY Contains the best stories that can be procured. It is Original; full of Thrill- ing Adventures and Stirring Scenes. It contains Detective Stories, War Stories, Frontier Stories, Indian Stories — all by the best American authors. EVERY BOOK IS COMPLETE. CATALOGUE. ,-,.* i EARLE LYNDON, THE SHADOW ; or, Trailing the King of the Smugglers. By Bail Brocade. . , . THE SILENT AVENGER ; or, The Fate of the Crooked Nine. By M. Y. Hand. ,,.. JERRY, THE WEASEL; or. The Boy Spy's Mission. By Louis Bernard. , , . . COOL NED, THE CYCLONE ; or, The Road Agent's Doom. By Ned Buntling. .... HUMAN WOLVES ; or, The Boy Ventriloquist. By Major Downing. .... THE TWINS' STRUGGLES ; or, On the Road to Fortune. By Lieutenant Atkinson. .... THE CREOLE'S TREACHERY; or, Titus the Scout's Faithful Servant. By T. r. Johnson. .... RICK, THE WAIF; or, The Young Fisherboy Sleuth-hound. By T. P. James. .... BURT, THE HERO ; or, Adventures of a Plucky Boy. By James Franklin File, .... CAVALRY CURT ; or, The Wizard of the Army. By G. Waldo Browne. .... SAM, THE WHARF-RAT ; or, Outwitted by a Boy. By Louis Bernard. .... LARKE, THE LAWYER SHADOW ; or, The Haunted Ranch on the Prairie. By Boa* Brocade. .... GIANT PETE, THE TRAILER : or, Saved by a Miracle. By Colonel Sort. .... UNDER TWO FLAGS ; or, His Life for His Honor. A sequel to " Cavalry Curt." £7 G. Waldo Browne. ... . ,*MOLL, THE TIGRESS ; or, Polled by a Boy Detective. By Major A. F. Grant. .... TED, THE BANTAM DETECTIVE : or, Downing the Sharpers. By George B. Lee. .... DICK, THE BOY ENGINEER ; or, On the Right Track. By W. A. Hickson. .... THROUGH THE EARTH ; or, Mystery of an Unknown World. By Carl C. Buffos* . , . . ROSS, THE MIDDY ; or, The Secret of the Cliff. By Mark Frobisher. , . . . STEEL GRIP, THE INVINCIBLE ; or, Two of the Finest. By Ned Buntling. .... DICK DANFORTHjthe Loyal Scout of Tennessee. By Major A P. Grant. .... MISSOURI BILL'S TRUST; or, The Young Reporter of 'Frisco. By T. P. James. . . . CAPTAIN JACK, THE UNION SPY ; or, fn Vicksburg and Out. By Harold T. Gray. .... SHARP HART IN ST. LOUIS; or, Playing for Big Stakes. By Major Walter Downing. . . . . GEN. DIXO>S BOY AIDE ; or, Ned Trinker in the Army. By Lieut. W. Atkinson. .... MARK LEMON, THE YOUNG ENGINEER ; or. True Yankee Grit. By T. P. Jam*s< .... FARRAGUT'S SCOUT RINGLETS; or, The Brand of the Mississippi. By Cal De Castro. , .. ; HARVEY DAYRE, THE SPY ; or, Tracked for His Life. By Major A. F. Grant. .... AT BAY IN A CAVERN ; or, After Big Game. By Lieut W. H. Atkinson. .... BRUCE HARDY ON DECK ; or, A Hero for Uncle Sam. By Morris Redwing. .... LTEUT. GEORGE TRELLEN ; or, A Tricky Union Boy. By George B. Wilson. .... THE GUNBOAT BOYS ; or, Harry and Artie Among the Guerrillas. By Arthur Rankin. .... CRAFTY JACK HARPER : or, A Scout That Is a Scout. By T. P. James. .... SLIPPERY MDLT, THE SCOUT ; or, Running the Gauntlet of Island No. 10. By Lieut. Henry Downs. ... WALTER COLLIER'S PLUCK ; or, Down the Mississippi in a Yacht. By W. H Atkinson. We will send, postage paid, any of the above books on receipt of 5 cents mch. 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