The Courier of the Ozarks Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  A MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION

  In the month of May, 1862, a young Federal officer reported in St.Louis, and found himself without a command, and without a commission.This officer, Captain Lawrence Middleton, had greatly distinguishedhimself during the first year of the war on the staff of GeneralNathaniel Lyon. After the death of Lyon he was commissioned a captain byGeneral Fremont, and authorized to raise an independent company ofscouts. With this company he had rendered valiant service in thecampaign which ended with the battle of Pea Ridge.

  Many of the acts of Fremont, and a number of commissions which he hadgranted, had been repudiated by the Government, and thus Middleton hadfound himself free. But he had no intention of remaining inactive, hisheart was too much in the cause. If no other field was open, he wouldenlist as a private soldier. But there was no need of that, he was toowell known. Though young, scarcely more than eighteen, he had renderedservices and performed deeds which made his name known throughout theState. He had thwarted the machinations of Frost, Price, GovernorJackson, and other disloyal leaders in their efforts to drag Missouriout of the Union.

  While Lawrence was undecided just what to do he met Frank P. Blair, whowas overjoyed to see him. He had been Blair's private secretary duringthe troublesome months before the opening of the war, and a lieutenantin one of his regiments of Home Guards.

  Blair, who had been appointed a brigadier general in the Federal army,had been at home on business, and was about to return to his command.

  "Never better pleased to see anyone in my life," said Blair, nearlyshaking Lawrence's arm off. "Oh, I've kept track of you, you've beenkeeping up your reputation. But what are you doing in St. Louis? Ithought you were with Curtis."

  Lawrence told Blair of his predicament,--that he was now without acommand or a commission.

  "Good!" cried Blair, shaking Lawrence's hand again. "I was about towrite to Curtis to see if I could not get you away from him. I will seethat you are commissioned as captain, and I will detail you on my staff.I need just such fellows as you."

  "I couldn't ask anything better," said Lawrence, "and, General, I thankyou from the bottom of my heart. It is more than I could have possiblyhoped, more than I deserve."

  "Too modest, my boy. If you had your deserts, you would be wearing astar on your shoulder, as well as myself. I am a little selfish inasking you to go on my staff. I want you."

  So it was all arranged, and Lawrence went to see his uncle and tell himof his new position on Blair's staff. This uncle, Alfred Middleton, wasone of the wealthiest citizens of St. Louis, and an ardent secessionist.Now that Lawrence was out of the army, he was in hopes that he wouldstay out, and he showed his disappointment in his face. He had also beengreatly worried of late. His only son was with Price, and it was a sorespot with him that the Missouri Confederate troops had been orderedeast, and not been left to defend their native State.

  In fact, the Confederates of the State felt that they had been desertedby the Richmond Government, and bore Jeff Davis and his cabinet no greatlove.

  "I am sorry, Lawrence," said his uncle, sadly. "I was in hopes that aslong as you were out of the army you would stay out. Why will youpersist in fighting against those who were your friends? Your wholeinterest lies with the South."

  "Uncle, please do not let us discuss that question again," repliedLawrence. "You and I are both firm in our belief, and no amount ofdiscussion will change either."

  Mr. Middleton sighed, but did not resume the subject. That Lawrence,whom he looked upon almost as a son, should take up arms against theSouth was to him a source of endless regret.

  The next two or three days were busy ones with Lawrence. The newarrangement had one drawback, it would separate him from Dan Sherman,who had been a lieutenant in his company of scouts, and the two wereinseparable. Dan would not hear of parting from Lawrence; he would gowith him if he had to go as his servant.

  "I can never consent to that, Dan," said Lawrence. "I had rather tellBlair I have reconsidered his proposition and cannot accept."

  "You'll do no such thing," retorted Sherman. "I will try and behavemyself, but I feel that something will happen, and we will not beseparated."

  Something did happen, much quicker than either one expected. Somethingwhich entirely changed the calculations of Lawrence. It was to be somemonths before he saw service with Blair.

  Lawrence and Dan were passing a newspaper office, before which a largecrowd had gathered, reading the war bulletins. They told that Halleckwas tightening his lines around Corinth and that the place must soonfall; and that McClellan was well on his way towards Richmond.

  It was curious to watch the faces of those who read. The countenances ofthose who were for the Union would brighten when anything was postedfavorable to the Union cause, and now and then a cheer would be given.

  The iron heel of the Yankees was on St. Louis, and the Confederatesympathizers dare not be so outspoken, but when anything favorable tothe South was posted their eyes would flash, and their countenances beamwith joy.

  And thus the crowd stood and read, once friends and neighbors, but nowready to rend each other to pieces at the first opportunity.

  Lawrence mingled with the crowd, and as he read he felt a bulky envelopethrust in his hand and caught a glimpse of a dusky arm. He glanced atthe address and then turned to see who had given it to him, but couldnot. He glanced at the envelope again. Yes, it was for him. In boldletters was written, "For Captain Lawrence Middleton. Important."

  The writing was strange to Lawrence, and making his way through thecrowd he sought a private place where he could see what had somysteriously come into his possession. As he read, a look of surprisecame over his face, and then his countenance grew stern and grim.Carefully he read the document through from beginning to end. It wassigned "By One Who Knows." There was not a mark to tell who was thewriter. The writing was strong and bold, and possessed an originality ofits own, as if the writer had put much of his own character in it.Lawrence sat and pondered long. He looked the manuscript over and overagain to see if he could not discover some private mark, something thatwould identify the writer, but he found nothing.

  "Strange," he muttered, "but if Guilford Craig was alive I would swearhe was the writer of this. Who else would write me, and me alone, andgive such important information? Who else could obtain the informationcontained in this letter? Yet Guilford is dead. Benton Shelly was seento shoot him. There were those who saw him lying on the ground, still indeath, his bosom drenched in blood. But his body was not found.Guilford, Guilford, are you still alive? But why do I indulge in suchvain hope that he is alive? The proof of his death is too plain. Thisletter must have been written by another, but who? Who? And why send itto me?"

  The letter was, in fact, a full and complete _expose_ of the plans ofthe Confederates. It told of the conception of the plot; who wascarrying it out; of the hundreds who had taken the oath of allegiance inorder that they might work more securely, and that many had evenenlisted in the State militia, so that when the supreme time came theycould desert: the time set for the uprising was the last of July or elsethe first of August, by which time they hoped to have at least fortythousand men enrolled.

  "Blair and Schofield must see this, and no time lost," said Lawrence tohimself as he placed the communication carefully in his pocket.

  Blair was soon found. After carefully reading the letter he said, "I amnot surprised. I warned the Government of the folly of removing so manytroops from the State. But who could have written this?"

  "If Guilford Craig was alive there would be but one answer," repliedLawrence. "As it is, it is a mystery."

  "Let us see Schofield at once," said Blair. "There should be no timelost."

  Repairing to the headquarters of General Schofield, they were readilyadmitted. General Schofield was the chief of staff to General Lyon atthe time of the battle of Wilson Creek, and, of course, knew Lawrencewell. "Glad to see you, Captain," said the General. "Curtis has writtenme of
your good work. You are not with him now, are you?"

  "No, you know the commission I held was granted by Fremont. Theauthorities at Washington declared it illegal."

  "Ah, there was a large number of those commissions. I must see what Ican do for you."

  "I thank you, General, but General Blair has just done me the greathonor of appointing me on his staff."

  "General Blair, as well as yourself, is to be congratulated," answeredthe General.

  Blair now spoke. "General, our business with you is very important.Captain Middleton, please show the General the communication youreceived."

  Lawrence handed the General the mysterious message and Schofield read itwith a darkened brow.

  "Who wrote this?" he asked, abruptly.

  "General, I do not know."

  "Then it may be a fake, a joke. Someone may be trying to scare us."

  "General, it is no joke, the proof is too positive," replied Lawrence,earnestly.

  "That is so," answered the General. "It also confirms rumors I have beenhearing. There has been unusual activity among Southern sympathizers,all over the State, yet outside of the guerrilla bands there have beenno hostile demonstrations. This must have been written by someone deepin their counsels."

  "General, do you remember Guilford Craig?"

  "Remember him! Indeed, I do. Can I ever forget what he and you were toLyon?"

  "If Guilford Craig had not been killed at the battle of Pea Ridge Iwould be positive the communication came from him. But the handwritingbears no resemblance to his."

  "Are you certain he was killed?"

  "The proof seems positive, but his body was not found," answeredLawrence.

  Schofield sat for a moment in silence, and then suddenly said to Blair,"General Blair, I have a great favor to ask of you."

  "What is it, General? Any favor I can give you will be readily granted."

  "That you relinquish your claim on Captain Middleton, at least, untilthis crisis is over, and let me have him."

  Blair looked surprised, but no more so than Lawrence.

  "You know," continued Schofield, "there is no one who can help me morejust now than Captain Middleton. No one who understands the work beforeme better. This Guilford Craig, as you are aware, was a curiouscharacter. To no one would he report but to Captain Middleton. This_expose_, coming to Middleton, instead of to me, leads me to believethat Craig was not killed, as supposed, but in some way got off thefield, and for reasons, known only to himself, remains in hiding.Judging the future by the past, if he is alive, and has more informationto impart, it would be given only through the same source. For thesereasons I would like to attach Captain Middleton to my staff."

  "General, your reasons are good," replied Blair, "and it shall be forCaptain Middleton to decide."

  "Where I can do my country the most good, there I am willing to go,"answered Lawrence.

  So it was decided that for the summer Lawrence should remain withGeneral Schofield. The words of General Schofield had also givenLawrence hope that Guilford lived. But as weeks and months passed, andno other communication came to him, he again looked upon Guilford asdead.

  Hopeless of getting relief from the Federal Government, GeneralSchofield entered upon the gigantic task of organizing the militia ofthe State. In this Lawrence was of the greatest service, and through asystem of spies and scouts he was enabled to keep General Schofield wellinformed as to what was going on in the State.

  In helping organize the militia, Lawrence had many adventures and manyhair-breadth escapes, and by his side always rode the faithful DanSherman, and together they shared every danger.

  By the last of July, as has been stated, there were nearly one hundredthousand men arrayed against each other. It was a partisan warfare on amighty scale, and the storm was about to burst.