ve for two
weeks.

In process of time the descriptive list and discharges of those who came
under the exemption clause of the Conscription Act were made out, but
there was so much red tape to be gone through with before all the
provisions of the Act could be carried out, that the two friends were in
a fever of suspense for fear that something might happen at the last
minute to blast their hopes. Their officers did not want to let them go,
and the slightest hitch in the proceedings would have made conscripts of
them. But in their case everything worked smoothly, and finally all they
had to do was to go to the paymaster and get their Confederate scrip.
Being provided with passes which would take them as far as the lines of
the Confederacy extended, they took leave of their friends, not without
a feeling of regret it must be confessed, and boarded the cars for Camp
Pinckney, which was located a hundred miles from New Orleans. After they
left the camp their passes would be of no use to them, for it was said
that the country between there and Mooreville, forty miles east of Baton
Rouge, was over-run with Federal cavalry. They reached the camp without
any mishap, ran the guard in order to get out of it (but that was not a
difficult thing to do, for nearly all the soldiers in camp were
conscripts who had not had time to learn their business), and before
they had gone ten miles on their way toward Mooreville, came plump upon
a small squad of Union cavalry, who covered them with their carbines and
told them to "come in out of the rain." It was hard to be "gobbled up"
within two days' walk of home, but the boys put a bold face on the
matter. The corporal and his three men seemed to be a jolly,
good-natured lot, and the ex-Confederates knew they would be sure of
kind treatment as long as they remained in their hands.

"You've got us easy enough," said Dick. "Now what are you going to do
with us?"

"Take you down to Baton Rouge and put you where you'll not have a chance
to shoot any more Yanks," replied the corporal. "Where's your
regiment?"

"We don't know; and not wishing to give you a short answer, we don't
care. We never shot any Yanks, and neither do we mean to go where they
are again if we can help it. We've got our discharges in our pockets."

"Seeing is believing. Hand 'em out."

The boys complied, and as they did so Rodney remarked that if they had
known that the corporal was as white a man as they had found him, th