Tom of the Raiders | Page 5

to
visit your cousin, and when you leave camp you will say that you are
returning home."
"Yes, sir."
"In the meantime, provide yourself with some rough clothes at
Shelbyville, and some heavy shoes. I will provide you with a revolver.
That will be all now."
"Yes, sir."
Tom hurried back to his cousin's tent in a daze.
The next afternoon at the general store in Shelbyville he bought a rough
suit, and a heavy pair of shoes. "Just wrap the suit up," he told the clerk,
"I'll be in for it tomorrow, or the next day. I'll wear the shoes." He
tramped back to Murfreesboro, displayed his pass to the Sentry, and
went to Bert's tent.
"The doctor has been in again," Bert told him. "He says that my ankle

will be well in a week or so."
"Good!" exclaimed Tom. "Look at my pretty little shoes." He displayed
the heavy, rough boots he had bought at Shelbyville.
"You ought not to start in those things," advised Bert. "New shoes will
cripple you. Here, we'll trade." He produced a pair which had been
worn soft in miles of marching. "And here's a waterproof cape for you."
"No, I don't want to take your things."
But Bert insisted. "I know this sort of life. You take 'em and don't
argue."
Bert had told him all that he knew of the raid, but, as he remarked,
"that's little enough." None of the men who had volunteered knew the
details of the expedition: they knew only that they were to accept
orders from an unknown man, follow him blindly and willingly into
whatever he might lead them. It was to be a raid of great importance, a
raid that might change the course of the war if it proved successful. So
great was the secrecy that no man knew who his companions were to be.
All of them, as Tom, were waiting for orders to be given without
knowing when the orders would come, nor what they would be. Tom
spent hours, when his cousin's tentmates were away, studying the map,
memorizing minute details of it.
Orders came on his third day at camp. He was clearing away the tin
plates and cups from which they had been eating dinner, when the
Captain's orderly appeared at the door of the tent. "Cap'n wants to see
you immediately."
Tom and Bert exchanged a glance; then Tom followed the messenger to
the Captain's tent.
When the messenger had been stationed to keep intruders away, the
Captain said: "You will leave tonight. Take the Wartrace road out of
Shelbyville and walk about a mile and a quarter. When you come to a
fork in the road go into the trees and wait until you're picked up. You

should be there at eight o'clock. You understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Repeat my instructions."
Tom repeated them without fault.
"Good! Wait here for a moment." The Captain left the tent. He returned
presently with the Major of the battalion and another Captain. From the
box where the documents of Company B were kept, he produced
enlistment papers. For several minutes, while Tom stood tense and
erect, the Captain wrote. The other two officers talked in an undertone.
"Sign here," said the Captain. Tom signed. The Major picked up the
paper and glanced through it.
"Hold up your right hand," said the Major. Then Tom heard the oath
which bound him to serve the United States of America honorably as a
soldier.
"I do," he replied, and let his hand drop to his side again.
The two officers signed the papers, shook hands with him, nodded to
Captain Moffat and left the tent. It all happened so quickly that Tom
could scarcely realize that he was now a soldier. When he had entered
the tent he was a civilian, bound merely by promises of service; now he
was a soldier, without a uniform, to be sure, but none the less a soldier.
His eyes dimmed and he looked away from the Captain.
Captain Moffat folded the paper, returned it to the box, and faced Tom.
He looked at him thoughtfully for a few seconds; then placed his hands
upon his shoulders.
"Private Tom Burns," he said softly. "Good luck to you. It will be
Second Lieutenant Tom Burns if this expedition is a success. Good
luck, my boy, and may God be with you." He took Tom's hand and
shook it.

And then Tom found himself walking down the street of Company B--a
soldier of Company B--and he scarcely knew that his feet were treading
ground.
There were two men in the tent, talking with Bert, and Tom waited
impatiently for them to leave.
"Tonight," he said shortly, as the tent flap dropped behind them.
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
They sat silently until Bert exclaimed,