"I am coming to that presently," answered Andrews. "Buy whatever you need, and hire any sort of conveyance that you may think safe. But don't be lavish with the money I'm giving you--it may have to last a long time. It should be more than enough, but we can't tell what will happen. And now about being questioned: If you have to answer questions, say that you come from Fleming County, Kentucky; that you are on your way to join the Southern troops. I happen to know that no men from Fleming County are in the Southern army, and so there will be little risk of meeting anyone from there. And if you are asked why you don't enlist immediately, say that you want to join a regiment in Atlanta." "And if we're completely cornered?" asked one of the men. "Then enlist." "In the Southern army?" "Surely. Remember, men, that you are playing a bigger game than your own personal likes and dislikes. The idea of enlisting in the Southern army may seem terrible, but it isn't so terrible as being captured and tried as a spy. You can desert at the first chance. And remember this: upon every one of you depends the success or failure of this venture." There was a murmer of approval, then silence. Andrews continued: "Tomorrow morning General Mitchel starts on a forced march. He will surprise and capture Huntsville on Friday. Our work is to capture the train that same day, destroy communications from Atlanta and join him with all possible speed. We will try to reach him with our train. Failing that, we will desert the train and join him as best we can." Mitchel would move the next morning! Huntsville! Chattanooga! For a moment the men were silent; then came a sharp "Ah!" The long winter campaign was ended; now for action! "We will start at once," said Andrews. A crash of thunder drowned his words. "From Marietta onwards we will fight it out together." He began to distribute money to them. Several groups disappeared into the night. "Shall we go together?" asked a man at Tom's right. "My name's Shadrack." "Yes. Mine's Burns." "Mine's Wilson," said another man. "Let's make it three." "Good!" They filed past Andrews, took the handful of Confederate money he held out, and started toward the road. The rain ceased for a few seconds; then came a flash of lightning, a burst of thunder, and the rain came swirling down. In an instant, Tom and his two companions were utterly alone in the black night, headed for the Southern lines. CHAPTER THREE ARRESTED "The Union pickets are at Wartrace," said Wilson, as they plodded down the road. "We ought to pass them tonight," Tom added. "Have we any way of identifying ourselves?" "No," replied Wilson. "We'd better try to avoid them." "What I hope," remarked Shadrack, with a chuckle, "is that our pickets are sleepy--dreaming of a nice warm fire at home, instead of keeping on the alert. Whew! what a storm!"