other refugees had begun to
show signs of returning life and energy, and as fast as they arose from
their blankets they came up to greet Marcy, who was not much surprised
to find that he could call every one of them by name. Those who had
rendered him such good service on the night those Newbern robbers raided
his mother's house made themselves known, and of course received the
hearty thanks of the boy they had saved from being hung up by the neck.
One of them remarked that he wished he and his friends had served Hanson
as they had served the robbers, and this led Marcy to believe that they
had made short work with them; but he asked no questions.

For men in their circumstances the refugees were the most jovial lot
Marcy Gray had ever seen. Having learned the art of foraging to
perfection they lived on the best the country afforded; they were so
well armed that it would not pay the authorities to try to capture them,
even if they had known right where to find them; and the secessionists
in the settlement who had property to lose would not permit the
Confederate soldiers to molest their wives and children if they could
possibly help it. But, as Hawkins said, they were becoming tired of
living in this way, and were talking seriously of taking matters into
their own hands. If the Federal garrison at Plymouth could not protect
them, they would protect themselves. That was what Marcy Gray had made
up his mind to do, and it was his intention to begin operations that
very day. As soon as breakfast was over he drew Hawkins off on one side
and took him into his confidence by unfolding the plans he had in his
head. One was to make a prisoner of his mother's overseer and take him
to Plymouth; and while there, to give the Federal commander the names of
the men who belonged to the Home Guards and tell him what they were
organized for. And lastly he would write letters to Beardsley and
Shelby, telling them that if they did not move away at once and go among
the Confederates, where they ought to have gone long ago, the men whom
they had forced to find refuge in the swamp would destroy everything
they had.

"I'm with you heart and soul, all except going among the Yankees," said
Hawkins, after Marcy had made him understand what he had on his mind.
"I'm sorter jubus that they won't let me come away when I want to. Why
couldn't we bushwhack Hanson, and not go nigh Plymouth at all?"

"Shoot him behind his back?" cried Marcy. "Look here