Civil War 10: The Rebel Spy by J. T. Edson

Author:J. T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing
Published: 2018-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Nine - A Dress for an Engineer’s Wife

While the two cavalrymen fell behind, they still kept up the chase and in doing so attracted the attention of other soldiers. Holding the two horses to a fast gallop along the centre of a street, Dusty saw a man dart from the sidewalk in an attempt to catch hold of the reins. Taking up the carriage whip from its holder, Dusty sent the lash slicing forward. For a snap shot he aimed well and the leather curled about the man’s head, causing an immediate withdrawal.

Seeing what happened to the soldier, a second man tried a different method of halting the carriage. Racing forward, he came in behind and grabbed hold of the rear of the passengers’ seat. Only he failed to take one thing into account and his plan met with a check. Rising up before the surprised man, Belle lashed around her right fist in a punch which snapped his head to one side and caused him to lose his hold. Before the man landed on the street, Dusty started to swing the racing carriage around another corner.

Shouts rang out, whistles blew and hooves clattered as members of the Provost Marshal’s mounted patrol headed for the disturbance area. Luck favoured Belle and Dusty for none of the riders came their way. However they realised that they must leave the carriage at the first favourable opportunity. It did not come for some time and the sound of pursuit kept at about the same distance behind them. Sensing trouble, the citizens disappeared into their homes, or entered business premises, with the intention of disassociating themselves and so as to be unable to help the Yankees should they be asked.

Swinging the horses on to a street which ran behind big buildings that in time of peace housed businessmen, or supplied town homes for plantation owners, Dusty saw his chance. Nobody appeared to be watching them and their pursuers had not yet come into sight. So Dusty hauled back on the reins and slowed the carriage.

“Get out, Belle!” he snapped.

Bag in hand, the girl obeyed. She thrust open the carriage door, paused to catch her balance and leapt down. Lashing the reins on to the whip, which he had thrust back into its holder, Dusty rose on the seat. He let out another yell, which caused the horses to lunge forward into the harness once more and start running, then sprang clear. As Dusty lit down on the sidewalk, the carriage tore away along the street.

“Down there, Dusty,” Belle suggested, darting to the small Texan’s side.

Flights of steps ran down into small areas that opened into the houses’ basement kitchens and Belle led the way out of sight. No sooner had they gone than feet clattered, hooves drummed and some of their pursuers turned on to the street. Gun in hand, Dusty flattened himself by Belle against the area wall and listened to their hunters pass them.

“So far, so good,” Dusty breathed. “Only we’d best find some better place than this to hide afore they find that buggy’s empty.

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