He was sure of it.
At the picket post Rowley sat in stolid indifference while he heard the
order to search his wagon. He engaged the guard in conversation. Wagons
entered and passed and still he talked lazily to his chosen friend.
The Lieutenant looked from his tent and yelled at last:
"What 'ell's the matter with you--search that man and let him go--"
"It would be a pity to tear up all those fruit trees!" the guard said
with a yawn.
"I didn't think you'd bother 'em," Rowley answered indifferently, "but I
know a soldier's duty--"
Another wagon dashed up in a hurry. The guard examined him and he passed
on.
Again the Lieutenant called:
"Search that man and let him go!"
Rowley's face was a mask of lazy indifference.
The guard glanced at him and spoke in low tones:
"Your face is guarantee enough, partner--go on--"
Socola flanked the picket and joined Rowley. Near Hungary, on the farm
of Orrick the German, a grave was hurriedly dug and the casket placed in
it. The women helped to heap the dirt in and plant over it one of the
peach trees.
Three days later in response to a pitiful appeal from Dahlgren's father,
Davis ordered the boy's body sent to Washington. The grave had been
robbed. The sensation this created was second only to the raid itself.
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