"We're no more Yanks than you are. We were on our way to enlist in the army at Chattanooga, and this is the way we get handled." "Don't believe 'em," said Alf. "Let's search 'em." "Why not wait until we get back to Judson? Easier to do it there." "All right," replied Alf. "You two ride along beside 'em. I'm done up totin' this gun." The procession started again. Tom heard Wilson whisper to Shadrack: "Keep to the story!" "No talking, there!" ordered one of the horsemen. "You can do all your talking when you get to Judson." It was nearly six o'clock when they reached the little town of Judson. As they went down the main street, men and boys tagged along beside them, plying the guards with questions. The guards waved them aside, and answered, "Don't know if it's them or not. Picked 'em up a piece down the road." They stopped at a two-story frame building labeled "Hotel." One of the guards went in, then motioned to the others to bring the prisoners. Presently they found themselves in a big room, lighted by two lamps which hung from the ceiling. The air was cloudy with smoke. A dozen men sat about at the tables. Instantly there was commotion. Everyone commenced talking. "Got three of 'em!" shouted Alf. "Three of 'em, Judge." "He thinks he has," said Wilson. "You better keep your mouth shut," yelled Alf. "No use talkin' like that, Alf," said the man addressed as Judge. "Where did you find them?" "Down the Ringgold road about five miles." A murmur arose from the men. "I can tell a Yank one mile off," boasted Alf. "I can tell a fool just as far away as I can see you," interrupted Wilson. "You...." "Now, Alf, keep quiet," said the Judge. "What were you men doing down the Ringgold road?" "We were trying to get to Chattanooga," Tom replied, "We got started on the wrong road this morning." Wilson broke in: "We tried to tell this wild man with his rifle that we were going to enlist in the army. We've sneaked through the Union lines from Kentucky, and came across the Tennessee yesterday. Then we got on the wrong road. This fellow held us up and arrested us in the name of the law for something-or-other. I don't know yet what we're arrested for." "For burning bridges," yelled Alf. "That's what I arrested you for." "All right," answered Wilson. "We're arrested for burning bridges. Whose bridges? What bridges?" "We're getting a whole lot of encouragement to fight for the South," said Tom. "He's crazier than any Yank I've ever seen in my life," remarked Shadrack, nodding toward Alf. "Search 'em," demanded Alf. "That'll show you whether I'm right or not." "Now, Alf," said the Judge, "you go on out to the kitchen and get something to eat. I'll examine these prisoners and I'll see that you get the credit for capturing them if they are the Yanks. Go on, now." He pushed Alf gently toward the door. Alf, still protesting, disappeared reluctantly into the kitchen. The Judge shook his head, laughing. "That man acts a little crazy," said Tom.