"We are very grateful to you for taking our part down there where we were captured," said he. "We'd have been killed if it hadn't been for you."
"Maybe," said the other, somewhat embarrassed. "But I didn't like the way you were taken."
"Oh, havin' that dough-faced shipmate o' yours come in to give yeh up,--pervidin' we'd shoot yeh!"
"I should say it was! I'm glad you tipped off the General to the kind of a pup he is."
"Why are you so set against him?" asked Al.
"Aw, I just don't like his looks," returned the bushwhacker. "Yeh kin see he's yellow, an' I sized him up fer a deserter when he got in such a sweat to pull out."
"What's your name?" asked Al, as the man stopped, evidently not intending to go as far as their prison with them.
The bushwhacker looked at him suspiciously.
"You needn't be afraid of me," Al insisted. "Perhaps we can do you a good turn sometime."
For a moment longer the other hesitated, then answered,
"My name's Bill Cotton," and, turning, he walked away.
The boys were soon securely locked in their prison with a sentry before the door. It was a small brick building near the river bank, and all its windows were boarded up with heavy planks except a small square one facing the river, the sill of which was about six feet above the floor. They had been confined but a few moments when the corporal returned, bringing a quantity of hardtack, a chunk of bacon, a pail of drinking water, two blankets and a small box of ointment.
"There," said he, as he handed the various articles to the boys, "fill yerselves up an' rub some o' this yere grease stuff on yer wrists. It ain't the best; lard an' marigold juice is the best, but I ain't got none, so I jest bought this in a store. I reckon it'll help some."
"That's all right," he replied. "I hate to see prisoners abused. I found out how it felt myself, once. This is a kind of a nasty hole to put you in but you'll likely be let out o' here an' paroled in the mornin', when we start fer Glasgow."
"Are you going to Glasgow?" asked Al, suddenly interested.
"You bet we are," confided the corporal, sociably, "an' some o' Joe Shelby's boys with us; got orders this evenin'. There's quite a bunch o' your Yank friends up there, an' a big grist o' muskets, too, an' we want the whole lot." He smiled genially at the boys in anticipation.