For the very first time in his whole life Shorty had run away from a crisis. With his genuine love of fighting, he rather welcomed any awkward situation in which men were concerned. It was a challenge to him, and he would carry himself through with a mixture of brass, bravado and downright hard fighting. But he would have much more willingly faced the concentrated fire of all the batteries in Bragg's army than Maria's eyes as she raised them from that letter; and as for the comments of her sharp tongue--well, far rather give him Longstreet's demons charging out of the woods onto Snodgrass Hill. He walked out into the barn, and leaned against the fanning-mill to think it all over. His ears burned with the imagination of what Maria was saying. He was very uncomfortable over what the rest of the family were thinking and saying, particularly the view that dear old Mrs. Klegg might take. With the Deacon and Si it was wholly different. He knew that, manlike, they averaged him up, one day with another, and gave him the proper balance to his credit. But Maria--there everything turned to gall, and he hated the very name of Bad Ax, the whole State of Wisconsin and everybody in it. He would never dare go back into the house and face the family. What could he do? There was only one thing--get back to his own home, the army, as soon as possible. Little Sammy Woggles came out presently to get some wood. Shorty called him to him. There was something fascinatingly mysterious in his tones and actions to that youth, who devoured dime novels on the sly. "Sammy," said Shorty, "I'm goin' away, right off, and I don't want the people in the house to know nothin' of it. I want you to help me." "You bet I will," responded the boy, with his eyes dancing. "Goin' to run away? I'm goin to run away myself some day. I'm awful tired o' havin' to git up in the mornin', wash my face and comb my hair, and do the chores, and kneel down at family prayers, and go to Sunday, school, and stay through church, and then have to spell out a chapter in the Bible in the afternoon. I'm goin' to run away, and be a soldier, or go out on the plains and kill Injuns. I'm layin' away things now for it. See here?" And he conducted Shorty with much mystery to a place behind the haymow, where he had secreted an old single-barreled pistol and a falseface. "You little brat," said Shorty, "git all them fool notions out o' your head. This 's the best home you'll ever see, and you stay here just as long as the Lord'll let you. You're playin' in high luck to be here. Don't you ever leave, on no account." "Then why're you goin' to run away," asked the boy wonderingly. "That's my business. Something you can't understand, nohow. Now, I want you to slip around there and git my overcoat and things and bring 'em out to me, without nobody seein' you. Do it at once." [Illustration: "SAMMY," SAID SHORTY, "I'M GOIN' AWAY RIGHT OFF, AND I DON'T WANT THE PEOPLE TO KNOW NOTHIN' OF IT." 113]