Down in Dixie. Life in a cavalry regiment in the war days. From the wilderness to Appomattox ... Illustrated, etc

Chapter I

More than He Bargained for — The War Fever and How it Affected the Boys — A Disbanded Cavalryman — Going to School in Uniform — Cousin Tom from Shiloh — Running away to Enlist — The Draft — In the Griswold Cavalry — Habeas Corpused ..... 13

Chapter II

The War Fever Again — Going to a Shooting Match — Over the Mountains to Enlist — A Question of Age — Sent to Camp Meigs — The Recruit and the Corporal — The Trooper's Outfit — A Cartload of Military Traps — Paraded for Inspection — An Officer who Had Been through the Mill 29

Chapter III

Raw Recruits at the Rendezvous — A Friendly Sergeant — Helped Out of Trouble — Insignia of Rank — From Corporal to General — The Bill of Fare — Pass the Butter — A Serious Breach of Military Etiquette 47

Chapter IV

Taking the Stiffness Out of Recruits — The Awkward Squad — Dismounted Drill — On Guard — The Sentinel's Orders — A New Hand's Experience on Post ........... CONTENTS. VIII

Chapter V

The Grand Rounds — Getting Even with the Officer of the Day — Infantry Orders for Cavalrymen — The Colored Troops at Camp Meigs — War time Love Letters — Why a New Hampshire Boy's Sweetheart did not Write — Missing in the Wilderness — A Soldier Boy's Elysium — Betrayed by a Bottle — A Woman in the Case . <_

Chapter VI

The Buglers' Drill — Getting Used to the Calls— No Ear for Music — Visitor from Home — A Basket full of Goodies — Taking Tintypes — A Special Artist at the Battle of Bull Run — Horses for the Troopers — Reviewed by a War Governor — Leaving Camp Meigs — A Mother's Prayers — the Emancipation Proclamation — Lincoln's Vow — The War Governor's Address ......... 82

Chapter VII

Leaving the Old Bay State — Soldiers and Civilians — Patriotic Greetings along the Route — A Night on Long Island Sound — The Cooper Shop at Philadelphia — Feasted in the Quaker City — Soldier Life at Camp Stoneman — A Friendly Game of Draw — Poker-Pirates and Army Gamblers ............ 100

Chapter VIII

Visiting the National Capital — An interesting Picture — Lincoln, Grant and Meade — The Provost Guard — A Courier to the Adjutant-General — Sweetening up a Jersey Regiment — The Army Mule and his Services to the Government — The Mule-Whacker's Code — Wonderful Possibilities . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113

Chapter IX

Visited by Veterans — The Saber Exercise — Patroling Down the Potomac — Shot by his Tentmate — On the Sacred Soil of Virginia — A Snowstorm in the Old Dominion — The Bull Run Battle Field — War's Desolation — How a Cavalry Column Marches — Death on the Flank ... _/ CONTENTS. IX 176 ■ °5

Chapter X

Arrival at Warrenton — Locating a Camp — Dog Tents — Building Winter Quarters — On Picket — A Stand-off with the Rebels — A Fatal Post — Alarm at Midnight — Bugle Calls — The Soldier's Sabbath — The Articles of War and the Death Penalty 155

Chapter XI

General Grant as Commander-in-chief with the Army of the Potomac — How Grant Fought His Men — Not a Retreating Man — The Overland Campaign — The Grand Finale — After the War — The Old Commander in Troy — En Route to MacGregor — Mustered Out

Chapter XII

The Company Cook and the Soldiers' Rations — Soap in the Soup — A Stag Dance — The Army Sutler — A Whiskey Barrel Tapped at Both Ends — The Long Roll — Breaking up Winter Quarters — Good Things from Home — Stripped for the Fight 190

Chapter XIII

Crossing the Rapidan — The Pontoon Train — On the South Bank — The First Brigade — Out to Todd's Tavern — The Night Before the Battle

Chapter XIV

In the Wilderness — The First Shot — Forward Into Battle — Battle Field Experiences — The Soldier and the Parson — Charging the Enemy — Fighting on Foot — Holding the Line — Ammunition Giving Out — Flanked by the Rebels — Our Horses Gone 214

Chapter XV

The very Man Grant Wanted — Sheridan at the Head of the Cavalry — Lively Times in the Wilderness — Falling Back — Little Phil to the Rescue — A Close Call for the Doctors — The First Night After the Opening of the Fight — A Town in Mourning CONTENTS. X

Chapter XVI

A Council of War — Observations at Daylight — The Second Day in the Wilderness — Not to Fall Back — The Rebel Yell — The Third Day — Custer at Work — An ideal Cavalry Officer . . . 32°

Chapter XVII

Observations in the Wilderness — Sounds of Battle — News from the Front — The Baptism of Fire — A Wilderness of Woe — The Best Cavalry General — A Tribute to Little Phil 253

Chapter XVIII

Feeling Around Lee's Right — Fighting at Todd's Tavern — Out of the Wilderness — Sheridan Ordered to Cut Loose — A Peppery Interview — " I can Whip Stuart" — " Go Out and Do it " .... 264

Chapter XIX

Around Lee's Right Flank — Removing the Wounded from the Wilderness to Fredericksburg — The Rear Guard's Good Work — The First Night Out — Good News from the Head of the Column — Custer's Brigade at Beaver Dam — In Rear of Lee's Army — Union Prisoners Released — Glory, Hallelujah ! 270

Chapter XX

Sheridan's Raid — Turning Out Lively — Crossing the North Anna — Massa Linkum's Sojers — The Tables Turned — The Name of Mother — A Yankee's Benediction — Pushing On From Beaver Dam — "The Kingdom Comin' " — The Grave of Massa Tom — Foraging on the Enemy — The Old Planter and the Vandal Horde — Yankees Without Horns 28.

Chapter XXI

Davies's Brigade at Ashland — A Noble Young Officer Killed While Leading a Charge — The Body Recovered by his Father — Buried Beside his Mother— A Christian Father's Sacrifice .... -c6 CONTENTS. XI

Chapter XXII

The Battle of Yellow Tavern — Jeb Stuart Killed — Going Through — Sheridan at the Front — A Sharpshooter Quieted — Alarm in Richmond 311

Chapter XXIII

Operations Around Richmond — The Fight at Meadow Bridge — Jeff Davis rides out to see the Yankees Whipped — Springing a Trap — The Rebels Repulsed — The Latest Confederate Newspapers — A Good Deal in a Name — To the James River — Supplies for Sheridan's Cavalry — Bully for Butler — Rest for the Weary 320

Chapter XXIV

Butler's Advance on the South Side — How the Massachusetts Major- General Escaped Hanging — Returning to Grant's Army — The Fight at Hawes's Shop — A Dying Confederate's Last Request — Holding Cold Harbor at all Hazards — Filling the Canteens — Running Into the Enemy 336

Chapter XXV

The Trevilian Station Raid — Cutting the Virginia Central Railroad — Custer Between Two Fires — Charge of the First Division — The Rebels Routed — Hampton's Men fighting Behind Breastworks — Torbert's Troopers Repulsed — Hunter Headed for Lynchburg — Sheridan's Withdrawal 358

Chapter XXVI

Over the Battle Field of Spottsylvania — Ghastly Sights in the Trenches — A Confederate W7idow and her Yankee Patient — Sheridan's Bivouac — Caring for the Wounded — The Negro Exodous — Out of the Land of Bondage — Bound for the Land of Canaan — " Old Virginny Nebber Tire" 366

Chapter XXXI

Headquarters and Hospitals at City Point — The Sanitary and Christian Commissions — Along the Line in Front of Petersburg — At Meade's Headquarters — A Visit to Fort Sedgwick — On the Picket Line — Talking it Over — Trading Newspapers — An All-Night Bombardment. 410

Chapter XXXII

Moving against the Weldon Railroad — A Dispatch to Gen. Warren — Adventure with a Runaway Doughboy — To hear the Last Words of a Dying Boy — A Furlough for Twenty Days — An Affecting Meeting — The Case Taken to Father Abraham. ...... 424

Chapter XXXIII

Home on Furlough — Having a Good Time — The Girl of the Period — Hoop-skirts at Lincoln's Inauguration — Back to the Front — Hangman's Day near Hancock Station. ....... 436

Chapter XXXIV

Doleful Tales by Deserters from Lee's Army — President Lincoln's Visit to the Front — A Memorable Meeting— The Fort Steadman Assault Lincoln on Horseback — At the Head of the Column — Wanted to Get Off and Pull Down his Pants. ... ., CONTENTS. XIII

Chapter XXXV

Grant's Spring Opening — By the Left Flank Again — Sheridan at Five Forks — The Fall of Richmond and Petersburg — A Dangerous Ride — How Jeff Davis faced the Yankees — Chasing Lee up the Appo mattox — Breaking the Backbone of the Southern Confederacy — The Surrender — Confiscating a Confederate Goose — A Colored Boy to the Rescue. 451

Chapter XXXVI

Assassination of Lincoln — The Return March — A Homeless Confederate — Not Destroyed by the Yankees — The Goddess of Liberty — The Grand Review — Grant's Final Order 469 CHAPTER XXXVll. Mustered Out at Arlington Heights — Back to the Old Bay State — Discharged From the Service — Startling News in a Quiet Village — Home, Sweet Home 479

Chapter Xxxviii

A Regimental Reunion — Back to the Wilderness — How the Boys Looked a Quarter of a Century after the War — A Major's Close Call — The Story of a Charge — The Boy Bugler — The Grander Army — Waiting for the General Roll Call ILLUSTRATIONS. Gen. Warren Receives a Dispatch from Gen. Meade .... Frontis. First Enlistment 23 Getting Even with the Officer of the Day 67 Joe Dictates his Letter to Mary 75 " It is Gin, Sir," said the Orderly • . 79 In the Saddle 94 " Halt — You Can't Go Through Here ! " 99 He had been Wounded at Gettysburg 117 Intercepted by the Provost Guard 127 Trading Canteens 142 " Soap in my Soup ! " He Exclaimed 197 Tapping the Sutler's Whiskey Barrel 202 Taking Possession of the Runaway ........ 237 Detailed to Draw the Enemy's Fire 247 In the Wilderness 263 A Rebel Sharpshooter 3'8 The Federal Surgeon Aids a Dying Confederate 349 Calling for Water 37° "Uncle Dan'l" gives the Boys in Blue a Timely Hint 399 The Girl of the War Period 439 Wounded Confederate . _ . . ? • • • ■ •

Chapter I

More thati He Bargained for — The War Fever and How it Affected the Boys — A Disbanded Cavalryman — Going to School in Uniform — Cousin Tom from Shiloh — Running Away to Enlist — The Draft — In the Griswold Cavalry — Habeas Corpused. N the local columns of the Troy (N. Y.) Daily Times of September i, 1863, the following news item was published : MORE THAN HE BARGAINED FOR. " A few days ago one Stanton P. Allen of Berlin, en- »^=^=sr" listed in Capt. Boutelle's company of the twenty-first (Gris wold) cavalry. We are not informed whether it was Stanton's bearing the same name as the Secretary of War, or his mature cast of countenance that caused him to be accepted ; for he was regarded as nineteen years of age, while, in reality, but fourteen summers had passed over his youthful, but ambitious brow.

Stan ton received a portion of his bounty and invested himself in one of those 'neat, but not gaudy ' yellow and blue suits that constitute the uniform of the Griswold boys. A few days intervened. Stanton's ' parients,' on the vine-clad hills of Ber lin, heard that their darling boy had 'gone for a sojer.' Their emotions were indescribable. 'So young and yet so valiant,' thought his female relatives. « How can I get him out ? ' was the more practical query of his papa. The ways and means were soon discovered. A writ of habeas corpus was procured from Judge Robertson, and as the proof was clear that Stanton was only fourteen years old, he was duly discharged from the service of the United States. But the end was not yet. A warrant was issued for the recruit, charging him with obtaining bounty and uniform under false pretenses, and a release from the military service proved only a transfer to the civil power.

Stanton found that he had made a poor exchange of ' situations,' and last evening gave bail before Judge Robertson in the sum of five hundred dollars." In order that the correctness of history may not be questioned, the subject of the above deems it expedient to place on record an outline of the circumstances lead ing up to the incident related by the Times. At the breaking out of the war my father resided in Berlin, N. Y., on the Brimmer farm, three miles or so from the village. I was twelve years old, but larger than many lads of sixteen. I was attacked by the war fever as soon as the news that Fort Sumter had been fired on reached the Brimmer farm. Nathaniel Bass worked for my father that year. The war fever got hold of Nat after haying was over, and one night along in the latter part of August, he said to me : " I'm going to war."

" You don't mean it, Nat ? " "Yes, I do. The fall's work won't last lone, and they say they're paying thirteen dollars a month and found for soldiers. That's better'n doing chores for your board." " If you do go I'll run away and enlist." " No ; you're too young to go to war. You must wait till you're an able-bodied man — that's what the bills call for." " O, dear! I'm afraid you'll whip all the rebels before I can get there." I cried myself to sleep that night. How I envied Nat when he came home on a three days' furlough clad in a full suit of cavalry uniform ! He enlisted September 20, 1861, in the Second New York cavalry. The regiment was known as the Northern Black-horse cavalry. Nat allowed me to try on his jacket, and I strutted about in it for an hour or so. I felt that e .en in wearing it for a short time I was doing something toward whipping the Southerners.

But Bass's furlough came to an end, and he returned to his regiment. Nat came back-in time to help us plant in the spring of 1862. The regiment went as far as Camp Stoneman, near Washington, where it remained in winter quarters. It was not accepted by the United States Government, and was never mounted. The reason given was that the Government had more cavalry than it could handle, and the Northern Black-horse cavalry was disbanded. The regiment was raised by Colonel Andrew J. Morri son, who subsequently served with distinction at the head of a brigade. Nat came home " chock-full " of war stories. He was just as much a hero in my estimation as he would have been if the rebels had shot him all to pieces. I never tired of listening to his yarns about the experiences of the regiment at Camp Stoneman.

He had not seen a rebel, dead or alive, but that was not his fault. Nat was something of a singer, and he had a song describing the adventures of his regiment. The soldiers were referred to as " rats." I recall one verse and the chorus : " The rats they were mustered, And then they were paid ; ' And now,' says Col. Morrison, ' We'll have a dress parade.' Lallv boo ! Lally boo, oo, oo, Lally bang, bang, bang, Lally boo, oo, oo, Lally bang I " I would join in the chorus, and although I did not understand the sentiment — if there was any in the song I was ready to adopt it as a national hymn. I was the proudest boy in the Brimmer district at the opening of school the next winter. I fairly "paralyzed" the teacher, George Powell, and all the scholars, when I marched in wearing Nat's cavalry jacket and forage cap.

He had made me a present of them. I was the lion of the day. The jacket fitted me like a sentry-box, but the girls voted the rig " perfectly lovely." Half a dozen big boys threatened to punch my eyes out if I did not "leave that ugly old jacket at home." I enjoyed the notoriety, and continued to wear the jacket. But one day Jim Duffy, a boy who worked for Tom Jones, came into the school with an artillery jacket on. It was of the same pattern as the jacket I wore, but had red trimmings in place of yellow. The girls decided that Jim's jacket was the prettier. I made up my mind to challenge Jim at the afternoon recess, but my anger moderated as I heard one of the small girls remark : " But Jim ain't got no sojer cap, so he ain't no real sojer — he's only a make-b'lief." "Sure enough!" chorused the girls.

Then I expected Duffy to challenge me, but he did not, and there was no fight. That same winter Thomas Torrey of Williamstown came to our house visiting. Tom was one of the first to respond to the call for volunteers to put down the rebellion. He was in the Western army, and fought under Grant at Shiloh. He received a wound in the second day's fight, May 7, 1862, that crippled him for life. He had his right arm extended to ram home a cartridge, when a rebel bullet struck him in the wrist. The ball shattered the bone of the forearm and sped on into the shoulder, which it disabled. Tom's good right arm was useless forever after. Tom was a better singer than Bass, and as we claimed him as our cousin, it seemed as if our family had already shed blood to put down the rebellion. While the wounded soldier remained at our house and told war stories and sang the patriotic songs of the day, my enthusiasm was kept at one hundred and twenty degrees in the shade.

I made up my mind that I would go to war or " bust a blood vessel." I assisted in dress ing Tom's shattered arm once or twice, but even that did not quench the patriotic fire that had been kindled in my breast by Bass's war stories and fanned almost into a conflagration by Tom's recital of his experiences in actual combat. I discarded Nat's "Lally boo " and transferred my allegiance to a stirring song sung by Tom : " At Pittsburg Landing Our troops fought very hard ; They killed old Johnston And conquered Beauregard. Chorus : Hoist up the flag; Long may it wave Over the Union boys, So noble and so brave." I laid awake nights and studied up plans to go to Pittsburg Landing and run a bayonet through the rebel who shot " Cousin Tom." The summer of 1862 was a very trying time. Char ley Taylor of Berlin, opened a recruiting office in the village and enlisted men for Company B, One hundred and twenty-fifth New York volunteers.

I wanted to 0-0 __ - but when I suggested it to my father he remarked: " They don't take boys who can't hoe a man's row. You'll have to wait five or six years." When the Berlin boys came home on furlough from Troy, to show themselves in their new uniforms and bid their friends good-by, it seemed to me that my chances of reaching the front in time to help put down the rebellion, were slim indeed. I reasoned that if Nat Bass could have driven the rebels into Richmond alone — as he said he could have done if he had been given an opportunity — the war would be brought to a speedy close when Company B was turned loose upon the Con federates in Virginia. It seemed that nearly everybody was going in Company B except Bass and I. I urged Nat to go, but he said it would be considered " small potatoes for a man who had served in the cavalry to re enlist in the infantry."

If I had not overlooked the fact that Nat had never straddled a horse during his six months' service in Col. Morrison's regiment, I might have questioned the consistency of Bass's position. The One hundred and twenty-fifth left Troy Satur day, August 30, 1862, and on the same day the second battle of Bull Run was fought, resulting in the retreat of the Union Army into the fortifications around Washington. " I told you so," said Bass, when the news of the battle reached Berlin. " The boys in Company B will have their hands full. They will reach the front in time to take part in this fall's campaign. I shall wait till next summer, and then if there's a call for another cavalry regiment to fight the rebels, I'll go down and help whip 'em some more." When the news of Grant's glorious capture of Vicks burg, and Meade's splendid victory at Gettysburg, was received in Berlin, I made up my mind that the crisis had arrived.

I said to Bass : ' Nat, our time's come." ' How so ? " " We've waited a year, and they've called for another regiment of cavalry." Then I believe I'll go." ' So'll I." ;i Where's the regiment being raised ? In Troy." Will your father let you go ? " " Of course not — don't say a word to him. But I tell you, Nat, I'm going. The Union armies are knocking the life out of the rebels east and west, and it's now or never. I can't stand it any longer. I'm o-oin_ to war." I was only a boy — born February 20, 1849 — but thanks to an iron constitution, splendid health and a vigorous training in farm work, I had developed into a lad who would pass muster for nineteen almost anywhere. Bass got away from me. My father drove to Troy with Nat, who enlisted August 7, in Company E, of the Griswold cavalry. The regiment was taken to the front and into active service by the late General William B. Tibbits of Troy.

About the first of August a circus pitched its tents in Berlin. Everybody went to the show. While the acrobats were vaulting about in the ring, a lad in a cavalry uniform entered the tent and took a seat not far from where I was sitting. The circus was a tame affair to me after that. A live elephant was nowhere when a boy in blue was around. " Who's that soldier ? " I asked my best girl. " That's Henry Tracy ; I wish he'd look this way. He's too sweet for anything." " Where's he from ? " " Off the mountain, from the Dutch settlement near the Dyken pond. Isn't he lovely ! What a nobby suit ! " When the circus was out, I managed to secure an interview with the " bold sojer boy," who informed me that he was in the same camp with Bass at Troy. " How old are you ? " I asked Tracy. " I'm just eighteen," he answered, with a wink that gave me to understand that I was not to accept the statement as a positive fact.

" Do you think they'd take me ? " " Certainly ; you're more'n eighteen." ' When are you going back ? " ' Shall start to-night. Think you'll go along? " ' Yes ; if you really think they'll take me." " I'm sure they will ; you just let me manage the thing for you." " All right ; I'm with you." I went with Tracy that night — after he had seen his girl home. As we climbed the steep mountain, I expected every minute to hear the footsteps of a brigade of relatives in pursuit. We reached the Tracy domicile about midnight, and went to bed. I could not sleep. The frogs in the pond near the house kept up a loud chorus, led by a bull-frog with a deep bass voice. I had heard the frogs on other occasions when fishing in the «_> O mountain lakes, and the boys agreed that the burden of the frog chorus was : You'd better go round I You'd better go round ! ye'll bite your bait off !

We'll bite your bait off ! Somehow the chorus seemed that night to have been changed. As I lay there and listened for the sound of my father's wagon, the frogs sang after this fashion : You'd better go home ! You'd better go home ! They'll shoot your head off ! They'll shoot your head off I FIRST ENLISTMENT. And, oh ! how that old bull-frog with the bass voice came in on the chorus : They'll shoot your head off ! " We got up at daylight, and walked over to the plank road and waited for the stage from Berlin to come along, en route to Troy. When the vehicle came in sight, I hid in the bushes until Tracy could reconnoiter and ascertain if my father was on board. He gave a signal that the coast was clear, and we took passage for the city. "You're Alex Allen's boy?" the driver — Frank Maxon — said, as we took seats in the stage.

" What about it ? " " I heard 'em say at the post-office this morning that you'd runaway." " False report," said Tracy ; " he's just going to Troy to bid me good-by." " Well, he must be struck on you, as they say he never set eyes on you till yesterday." The stage rattled into Troy about half-past ten o'clock. There was considerable excitement in the city over the draft. Soldiers were camped in the court-house yard and elsewhere. They were Michigan regiments, I think. There was a section of artillery in the yard of the hotel above the tunnel. I could not understand how it was that the Government was obliged to resort to a draft to secure soldiers. To me it seemed that an able bodied man who would not volunteer to put down the rebellion, was pretty " small potatoes." But I was only a boy. Older persons did not look at it in the same light as I did.

By the way, the draft euchred our family out of three hundred dollars. When I enlisted in the First Massachusetts, after the failure of my plan to reach Dixie in the Griswold cavalry, I was paid three hundred dollars bounty. I sent it home to my father. The draft " scooped him in," and the Gov ernment got the three hundred dollars back, that being the sum the drafted men were called on to pay to secure exemption. Tracy escorted me to Washington Square, where there were several tents in which recruiting officers were enlisting men for the Griswold cavalry. A bounty of two dollars was paid to each person bringing in a recruit. Tracy sold me to a sergeant named Cole for two dollars, but he divided the money with me on the way to camp. As we entered the tent where Sergeant Cole was sitting, Tracy said : " This young man wants to enlist, Sergeant."

"All right, my boy; how old are you — nineteen, I suppose ? " • " Of course he's nineteen," said Tracy. I did not contradict what my soldier friend had said, and the sergeant made out my enlistment papers, Tracy making all the responses for me as to age. After I had been "sworn in " for three years, or during the war, I was paid ten dollars bounty. Then we went up to the barracks, and I was turned over to the first sergeant of Captain George V. Boutelle's company. I drew my uniform that night. The trousers had to be cut off top and bottom. The jacket was large enough for an over coat. The army shirt scratched my back — but what is the use of reviving dead issues ! One day orders came for Capt. Boutelle's company to " fall in for muster." The line was formed down near the gate. I was in the rear rank on the left.

The mustering officer stood in front of the company with the roll in his hand. Just at this time, my father with a deputy sheriff arrived with the habeas corpus, which was served on Capt. Boutelle, and I was ordered to " fall out." Then we went to the city, to the office of Honorable Gilbert Robertson, Jr., provost judge, and after due in quiry had been made as to " the cause of detention by the said Capt. Boutelle of the said Stanton P. Allen," the latter "said " was declared to be discharged from Uncle Sam's service. My father refunded the ten dollars bounty, and offered to return the uniform, but Capt. Boutelle refused to accept the clothes, charging that I had obtained property from the Government under false pretenses. Under that charge I was held in five hun dred dollars bail, as stated in the Times, but the court remarked to my father that " that'll be the end of it, probably, as the captain will be ordered to the front, and there will be no one here to prosecute the case."

As we were leaving Judge Robertson's office, a policeman arrested me. He marched me toward the jail. Pointing to the roof of the prison he said : My son, I'm sorry for you." What are you going to do with me ? " I asked. Put you in jail." What for ? " " Defrauding the Government. But I'm sorry to see you go to jail. They may keep you there for life. They'll keep you there till the war is over, any way, for people are so busy with the war that they can't stop to try cases of this kind. You are charged with getting into the army without your father's consent. Maybe they won't hang you, but it'll go hard with you, sure. I don't want to see you die in prison. If I thought you'd go home and not runaway again, I'd let you escape." That was enough. I double-quicked it up the street and hid in the hotel barn where my father's team was until he came along.