Tom of the Raiders | Page 3

And what did
you do to your ankle?"
"The Captain's coming to see me, eh? Humph! A lot of good that'll do
me. Was he talking with the doctor?"
"Yes."
"Humph!" Bert plunged into thought.
"How about the ankle?" Tom reminded him. "What did you do to it?"
"I was on a bridge detail yesterday," answered Bert gloomily. "We
were loading some pilings to be hauled up to a bridge, and I was on the
wagon, placing them as they were shoved up to me. They were all

greasy with mud, and I--well, I was thinking about some other things,
and I stepped on a slippery hunk of mud. I went down; then one of the
pilings rolled over when my foot struck it, and went on my ankle."
"Gee, that's hard luck!"
"I'd just as soon sprain a dozen ankles," answered Bert. "That isn't the
hard luck."
"What do you mean?" asked Tom.
Bert looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. "No," he said. "I
can't tell you. It's something we were planning to do, and"--he
motioned towards his ankle--"here I am. Perhaps I'll tell you later."
The flap of the tent was pushed aside and the Captain entered. He stood
for a moment looking regretfully at Bert. "I'm sorry," he said, "but the
doctor says it can't be done. Too bad!"
Bert glared at his ankle. "Well, sir, if it can't be done, it just can't."
Tom watched the two men, wondering what thoughts were in their
minds. What was this mysterious plan that was ending so badly?
The Captain spoke at last: "It's nice that you have your cousin here to
keep you company while you're waiting for your ankle to heal."
"He'll be with me longer than that, Captain. He's come to enlist."
"Good!" exclaimed Captain Moffat. He turned to Tom. "I 'll be glad to
have you, my boy!"
"And I'll be glad to be with you."
"Sir!" corrected Bert. "You'll have to learn to say 'sir' in the army."
"Yes--sir!" replied Tom.
The Captain smiled: "What's your name?"

"Burns, sir. Tom Burns."
"And how old are you!"
"Eighteen, sir."
"Young," commented the Captain, "but you look strong enough to
stand the life." He put out his hand. "I'm glad to have you. We need
men these days, and we can always handle a few recruits. You can stay
here with Corporal Brewster until you're assigned to a squad. I'll have
some bedding sent down here for you to use until you draw your kit."
He started out, then paused. "Don't be too disappointed, Brewster.
There'll be other chances."
"Keep me in mind for the first chance, Captain."
"I'll promise you that."
"Thank you, sir," said Bert. "Do you know who will take my place?"
"Not yet," replied Captain Moffat. "I'll have to select a man."
He left the tent, his heavy sword clanking as he walked. Tom resumed
his seat beside Bert.
"What is this scheme of yours, Bert?" he asked. "Can't you tell me? Is it
a secret?"
Bert considered the matter for nearly a minute, while Tom watched him
intently. "Yes, it's a secret," replied Bert; then he added, "But I'll tell
you."
"If it's a military secret, perhaps you'd better not. Of course I wouldn't
tell anyone, but...."
"No, it's all right for me to tell you." Bert put his hand into his
knapsack which lay beside his bed and pulled forth a map. "Look here."
Tom moved up beside him and they spread the map out on their knees.
"There's a town called Corinth." Tom pointed with a brown forefinger.

"Beauregard is there. And here is Atlanta, which is Beauregard's base
of supplies. Here is Murfreesboro where we're camped. If Beauregard's
supplies were cut off between Atlanta and Chattanooga, what would
happen to Beauregard?"
"He'd been in for trouble," answered Tom.
"And Chattanooga...?"
"Chattanooga would be flying Mitchel's flag." Tom's eyes brightened,
and he turned so that he could look squarely at his cousin. "But, Bert,
how were you going to do it?"
Bert smiled wanly, and left Tom in suspense a moment before he
answered. Then he glanced balefully at his ankle. "Some of us were
going into the South, and ... well, we were simply going to do it."
"The railroad between Atlanta and Chattanooga?" asked Tom.
"You've guessed it, but, on your life, don't breathe a word of it."
Tom's eyes opened wide. "Never! And aren't they going to do it now!
Just because you're ankle is broken?"
"They'll do it, all right," answered Bert. "I'm not that important. There's
only one man who is so important that they have to have him."
"And who's that?"
"The leader--the man who planned it. He knows the country." Bert
folded the map and put it back in his knapsack.