y so; all who
prefer to give up without a rush can also say so. I will do the best I can
for them."

Four voted to surrender, and went out to the besieging party, leaving
seventeen.

Quantrell, James Little, Hoy, Stephen Shores and myself held the upper
story, Jarrette, George Shepherd, Toler and others the lower.

Anxious to see who their prisoners were, the militiamen exposed themselves
imprudently, and it cost them six.

Would they permit Major Tate's family to escape? Yes. They were only too
glad, for with the family out, the ell, which was not commanded by our
fire, offered a tempting mark for the incendiary.

Hardly had the Tales left than the flames began to climb the ell.

There was another parley. Could we have twenty minutes? Ten? Five?

Back came the answer:

"You have one minute. If at its expiration you have not surrendered, not
a single man among you shall escape alive."

"Thank you," said I; "catching comes before hanging."

"Count six then and be d--d to you!" shouted back George Shepherd, who was
doing the dickering, and Quantrell said quietly, "Shotguns to the front."

There were six of these, and behind them came those with revolvers only.
Then Quantrell opened the door and leaped out. Close behind him were
Jarrette, Shepherd, Toler, Little, Hoy and myself, and behind us the
revolvers.

In less time than it takes to tell it, the rush was over. We had lost
five, Hoy being knocked down with a musket and taken prisoner, while they
had eighteen killed and twenty-nine wounded. We did not stop till we got
to the timber, but there was really no pursuit. The audacity of the thing
had given the troops a taste of something new.

They kept Hoy at Leavenworth for several months and then hanged him. This
was the inevitable end of a "guerrilla" when taken prisoner.

5. VENGEANCE INDEED

Among the Jackson county folks who insisted on their right to shelter
their friends was an old man named Blythe.

Col. Peabody at Independence had sent out a scouting party to find me or
any one else of the company they could "beat up." Blythe was not at home
when they came but his son, aged twelve, was. They took him to the barn
and tried to find out where we were, but the little fellow baffled them
until he thought he saw a chance to break through the guard, and started
for the house.

He reached it safely, seized a pistol, and made for the woods followed by
a hail of bullets. They dropp