amigo--jus' time to git on the prowl again."

Feeling as if he had been beaten, Drew slowly got to his feet. Men were
moving, falling into line. And one was arguing with Captain Campbell.

"It could work, Cap'n," the trooper urged. "Ain't a lot of the boys
wearin' Yankee truck they took outta the warehouses? Them what ain't can
act like prisoners. Jus' say we're the Eleventh Ohio--they's stationed
near Bardstown and it would seem right, them ridin' down to take them
some prisoners. The old man, he's got a rich farm and sets a powerful
good table. Might even give us a right smart load of provisions into the
bargain. It's worth a try, suh...."

"Rennie!" So summoned, Drew reported to their new commander.

"Know anything about a Thomas McKeever livin' in this section?"

Drew's memory produced a picture of a round-faced, cheerful man who
liked to play chess and admired Lucilla's pickled watermelon rind to the
point of begging a crock of it every time he visited Red Springs.

"Yes, suh. He's Union--got two sons with Colonel Wolford. Owns a big
farm and raises prime mules--"

"You know him personally?"

"Yes, suh. He's a friend of my grandfather; they used to visit back and
forth a lot."

"Then he'd know you." Campbell's fingernails rasped through the stubble
on his chin.

"So Rennie heah could be one of our prisoners, suh. That theah might
convince Mistuh McKeever we's what we say--" the trooper pressed his
point.

"Could be. It's gospel truth we ain't goin' to get far with our bellies
flat on our backbones. And it might work. Now, all of you men,
listen...." Campbell explained, gave orders, and put them through a
small drill. A dozen men without any Union uniform loot to distinguish
them were told to play the role of prisoners; the others exchanged and
drew out of saddlebags pieces of blue clothing to make their appearance
as the Eleventh Ohio.

"They ain't gonna expect too much." The trooper who had first urged the
plan was optimistic. "We can pass as close to militia----"

"You hope!" Kirby was in the prisoner's section, and it was plain he did
not relish a role which meant that he had to strip himself of weapons.
"You--" he fixed his attention on the man to whom he must hand his Colts
when the time came--"keep right 'longside, soldier. If I want to get
those six-guns, I want 'em fast an' I want 'em sure--not 'bout ten yards
away wheah I can't git my hands on 'em!"

Their gnawing hunger drove them all int