THE CONSPIRACY ON THE BRIDGE

Kipps appeared to be a good-natured man, and Deck declined to take a seat on the bench with him simply because it would place him where he could not see the signal when his father made it. The man did not seem to be so intent upon driving in the heads of the spikes in the planks as he had been, and perhaps he thought he had worked hard enough to entitle him to a rest.

"Jest come and take a seat here, Deck Lyons; you look all worn out, and you need a little rest," said Kipps, as Deck placed himself at the end of the fence.

"I'm not all worn out, and I think I can stand it to keep on my feet a while longer," replied the signalman.

"Well, you must git tired luggin' them things round all day," persisted the mechanic.

"What things?"

"Why, that shooter on your back, and that broadsword a-danglin' agin your shins."

"They are not very heavy, and not so much of a load as your sledge-hammer and adze."

"I'm used to kerryin' them; but I'll bet a day's pay that gun on your back is heavier'n my hammer."

"I don't bet, but my carbine is lighter than your sledge," replied Deck; and it seemed to him as though the workman was trying to accomplish some object, though he could not make out what it was. "Besides, I don't have to lug my arms without any help, for I am generally on horse-back."

"Have you seen Tom Lobkill about here in your travels on this bridge?" asked Kipps, suddenly changing the subject of the conversation.

"I don't happen to know Tom Lobkill, and I don't know whether I have seen him or not."

"Don't you know Tom Lobkill? I thought every man in Tennessee knew Tom."

"That may be; but as I never put foot in Tennessee yet, I never happened to meet him," replied Deck.

"I reckon this is Kentucky," added Kipps, with a mild horse-laugh. "You see, we fellers that work on the railroad don't allers mind jest what State we're in, for we keep shiftin' from one to another all the time."

"But I think you don't have to do much shifting between Kentucky and Tennessee at the present time," suggested Deck.

"Not as much as we did a while ago. If you hain't seen Tom Lobkill, did you come across Lank Rablan in your travels on the road?" asked Kipps, as he rose from his seat, and walked to the end of the fence, though he still remained behind it.

"I don't know him any better than I do the other fellow, and I haven't seen him. You seem to have a good many friends about here, Brown Kipps."

"Not a great crowd; there ain't but four on us, and t'other is Sykes Wimble. I s'pose you hain't seen nothin' o' him, nuther?"

"I don't know him," replied Deck, more curious yet to know what the man was driving at. "What are you four doing about here?"

"We are on the railroad."

"So I supposed; and I suppose one of you is the president of the company, and perhaps the other three are the vice-presidents," said the cavalryman, quite as good-natured as his companion.

"Well, no, not exactly; I ought to be the president of the company, but I ain't," answered Mr. Kipps. "If I was, some of us bridgemen would get better pay, and a chance to sleep nights some o' the time."

"Then you are bridgemen; and I saw you knocking in the heads of the spikes over there. I suppose you were sent down here to rebuild this bridge if the enemy destroyed it."

"That's jest what we are here for; but I don't reckon the enemy'll destroy it this time."

"I should say not."

"But I was lookin' for my gang-mates, and I don't see what's become on 'em;" and Kipps looked about him as though he really wished to find them. "I had to go down below to git a hunk o' t'backer out'n the wagon, and the t'other three went down this way;" and the bridgeman produced a great twist of the native weed, and bit off enough to load two pipes. "I reckon you hain't seen nothin' on 'em, hev yon, Deck Lyons? I reckoned they went over the creek."

"I have not seen any of them, and no one has crossed the bridge since I came upon it," replied Deck.

"I rather think I can fetch 'em if they are anywhere round here," added Kipps, as he took a whistle from his pocket and applied it to his lips, producing three short blasts. "All on us carries one o' these, because we sometimes get scattered on the work."

The whistle seemed to be as potent as that of the boatswain on board of a man-of-war, for one after another three men mounted to the bridge just beyond the abutment on the farther side. Each of them had a pipe in his mouth, and they came upon the track as though they were in no hurry. They were dressed like Kipps, in workingmen's clothes, and one of them was about six feet and a half high. All of them had axes in their hands, but none of them seemed to be provided with firearms.

"They weren't fur off, and they kept awful still, or I should have hearn them," said Kipps, as they crossed the track and placed themselves behind the fence.

Deck wondered how they had secured a place down the embankment without being seen by him; but his attention had been directed the other way to the position of the squadron. But he realized that they could have crossed the track some distance farther up the road, and walked down from there under the shadow of the road-bed.

"Well, boys, I reckoned you'd got lost, for I couldn't find nothin' on you," said Kipps, as the men approached the end of the fence at which Deck stood. "What you been doin', Lank Rablan?"

"When you went down to the wagon, we uns dropped down the bank to have a smoke, and we got to talkin' about this business round here," replied the tallest of the three, who was about as lofty in his upper works as Life Knox, and about as spare in his filling up. "We consayted that this bridge was go'n' to get burnt up last night; but it's all here yet, and I reckon them so'diers down thar's done a big thing."

"We hain't got no job on our hands for to-day," said another of them.

"What was it that the nigger told you, Sykes Wimple?" asked Lank Rablan, who was the tall fellow.

"He told me the troopers had captured the whole company sent here to destroy the bridge; and there they be down there, guarded by the horse soldiers," replied Sykes, pointing in the direction of the camp. "I suppose this fellow is one of them," he added, pointing to Deck.

"I am one of them," replied the signalman.

"What company do you belong to?" asked Lank.

"To the Riverlawn Cavalry."

"You hain't had no fightin', I reckon."

"Yes, we have; the second company defeated the force that came here at daylight this morning, and captured the whole of them. The same company had a brush with the Texan Rangers, and they all took to the woods, except those that were killed or badly wounded. The hospital over there is full of them. If you stay on this bridge long enough, you will see more fighting over on the south road."

The bridgemen looked at each other, and said nothing for a few moments. Deck began to feel as though he was neglecting his duty; for he had been giving his whole attention to the talk of the men, with only an occasional glance at the troopers below. He looked again, and for the moment he did not see the plume of his father. He had changed his position, though it was not likely that he had gone far, and he began a search for him with his eyes. He did not discover the major at once; for he had moved a short distance up the south road, to give his orders to Captain Gordon.

While he was continuing his search, he was suddenly and violently drawn backwards behind the fence. If the bridgemen did not talk together in words they did by their looks. If any one had been regarding the scene described, it would have been sufficiently evident to him by this time that the bridgemen were engaged in a conspiracy, the first act of which was to secure the person of the Union soldier who had been posted at the flagstaff. But there was no one to observe what transpired on the bridge.

At a nod from Brown Kipps, Lank Rablan sprang lightly forward; and, seizing hold of the carbine which was slung on his back, he dragged him into the shadow of the fence in the twinkling of an eye. As soon as Lank had drawn him within reach of the others, they all laid hold of him. Deck struggled with all his might, and struck out right and left with his fists till his hands were secured, each by a man, while the other two held his body. The tussle was quickly finished, for the young soldier could do nothing against four full-grown mechanics.

Of course Deck realized that he was the victim of a plot prepared while none of the operators were in sight. His first feeling was one of humiliation that he had allowed himself to be captured at his post, or so near it. He blamed himself for leaving the flagstaff; but probably the result would have been the same if he had not left it, for a distance of fifty feet would not have prevented the conspirators from securing him where he was.

The four ruffians who had carried out their plan appeared to be what they claimed; bridgemen, for they were all provided with the tools that are used in such work. But it was evident to him when the question came to his mind, that they were not Union men, and could not be in the employ of the railroad company, which was now a loyal institution, after a violent discussion with its Tennessee stockholders.

"Don't kick, my little man," said Kipps, who appeared to be the foreman of the gang, whatever they were. "It won't do no good."

Deck was painfully conscious of what the leader said; for the others had taken his carbine and sabre away from him, and laid them on the bench. With the slings of his firearm they were securing his arms behind him, while Lank Rablan held him by the collar of his jacket. It occurred to him then that the ruffians had not taken his small revolver from him, and had not even discovered that he had one; but it might as well have been at the bottom of the creek so far as being of any service to him in that important moment, for his hands were both in possession of the enemy.

He had kicked with his long boots, and endeavored to bring his spurs to bear upon the shins of his antagonists; but Kipps had strapped his sabre belt around his ankles, thus depriving him of his only remaining natural means of defence. While they were securing his arms behind him, which their evidently intended to do with the greatest care, he was faced to the position of his company. Then it occurred to him that he had one resource left. His voice could not be tied up like his legs and arms, and he could use that if nothing else.

"Help! Help! Help!" he shouted at the top of his lungs three times. "Below, there! Sentinels! I am"—

This was as far as he was permitted to proceed; for Kipps caught his handkerchief from the opening of his jacket, and stuffed it into his mouth. If any of the sentinels around the prisoners' camp heard him, they could make nothing of the cries. If they looked about them, they could see nothing on the surface of the bridge, even if the shouts had not come from behind the fence.

"No use, my little beauty!" exclaimed Kipps, as the two men completed the operation of strapping his arms behind him. "They can't hear you down below, and you only worry yourself, without doin' a bit of good. Now be a Christian, and keep quiet like a little lamb, as you are. We are going to be busy now for a little spell, and we shall have to fasten you to the bench. Be easy, and amuse yourself the best way you can. You can whistle 'Yankee Doodle' if you like, and I reckon you can do it better than I did."

It was no use to say anything, or to attempt to do anything. He was tied to the bench, facing the track; and Kipps was considerate enough to take the handkerchief from his mouth, and return it to the inside of his jacket. The other three men had already hastened over to the place where they had come upon the bridge, and disappeared. The foreman took his carbine from the bench, and started to follow the others.

"It would break my heart, my pretty dove, to have to shoot you with your own piece; but if you make a row, I shall have to do it. If you keep quiet we won't hurt you."

Saying this, Kipps left him.