American Struggle Page 45

  Andrew turned and gave Daria a hard shove, knocking her off balance. “Get away from me! Can’t you see how much harder you’re making this?” He stomped out the door, tears running down his cheeks.

  Daria stood stunned. How could this happen? Should she try to tell Mama?

  But she knew there wasn’t time. She forced herself to run after Andrew, but she reached the stable just in time to hear Andrew say simply, “He’s yours.”

  Philip stretched out his hand. “Thank you, Andrew. You’re a true friend.”

  In a few minutes, Philip had his bags secured behind the saddle and was mounted. “This old war will be over soon, Andrew. And when it is, we’ll have a baseball game to end all baseball games.” He gave Daria a jaunty wave.

  Daria felt as though she were trapped in a nightmare. She watched while Mama and Jenny stood on the front porch and waved good-bye. As Bordeaux trotted away from them, she realized the saddle that Papa had given them was on the horse. She started to say something, but Andrew seemed to read her mind, the way he always did. “What does it matter?” he asked dully. “If there will be other horses, then there will be other saddles.”

  He ran back into the stable. Daria followed him more slowly. She came inside in time to see him fling himself into the hay and sob like a baby. She had meant to yell at her twin, but when she saw Andrew crying, her heart broke for him.

  “Andrew,” she said softly, “it’ll be all right. God will watch over

  Bordeaux and Philip.” Somehow, in spite of everything, for the first time she really believed this. She turned to go back into the house. Daria knew there was really nothing she could say to make Andrew feel better right now.

  CHAPTER 16

  The Spy Ring

  Andrew? Are you still in there? Andrew?” Daria called. “Go away,” he muttered sleepily. Daria knew her twin didn’t want to see her. He probably didn’t want to see anyone. But she had to talk to him.

  “I have something to show you.” “I don’t want to see.”

  She pushed the door open anyway and came in with a lantern in one hand and a folded piece of paper in the other. Slowly he sat up. “What time is it?”

  “Almost nine. You’ve been asleep for a long time.” She sat down on the floor of the stable. “Andrew,” she said gently, “look at this. I found it in Philip’s room. Behind his bureau.”

  Andrew scowled. “You searched his room?”

  “Just look at it.”

  The paper was on bookstore business stationery. On it were drawings of troop movements, troop locations, and troop sizes. Andrew shook his head. “Daria, you silly goose. Everybody is interested in troop movements these days. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove.”

  Daria yanked the paper from his hands. “Andrew Fisk, you’re determined not to believe a thing I say. Well, I’m going into town and have a look around that so-called bookstore.”

  “Mama would never let you do such a thing.”

  “Mama’s exhausted, and she’s sound asleep. She’ll never know I’m gone.”

  Andrew sighed. Then he brushed hay off himself and stood up. “Wait a minute and I’ll go with you. There are troops swarming all over town. If you got in any trouble, I’d never hear the end of it.”

  Grabbing his hat, Andrew joined Daria and they hurried off to town. “I’m dead tired,” he complained under his breath, “and now you’re making me walk all the way back into town just because of your foolish suspicions….” He heaved another huge sigh, as though all the troubles of the world had settled on his shoulders. “This is not how I wanted to spend my evening,” he grumbled, but he sounded more like his old self now. Daria knew he would stay with her, if only to prove her wrong.

  In town, it was as busy as if it were midday. Soldiers were everywhere. Daria and Andrew figured if anyone stopped them, they would just say that they were on their way to their aunt and uncle’s house. But no one did. They made their way to Third Street, then turned and went down the alley behind the bookstore.

  Although she was sure that there was something wrong, Daria felt silly. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. But after she’d gone only a few feet, she knew exactly what she was looking for. She and Andrew stopped short.

  There was Bordeaux tied in the alley. But his blaze was gone. It had been blacked over.

  Quietly, Daria and Andrew stepped up to their beloved horse. Bordeaux nickered softly. Daria patted his nose. “Philip left hours ago,” she whispered. “Why didn’t he take you with him like he said?”

  Ducking down, Daria and Andrew crawled up to a small window that was open. There in the back room of the bookstore several men had gathered. Daria recognized two of them as the old man and the dandy they’d seen in the bookstore the day they were looking for Philip. Her heart pounded. What was going on?

  Just then, in through a side door came a sandy-haired, clean-shaven man dressed in a smart-looking federal uniform complete with saber and sheath and the insignia of a lieutenant.

  Andrew reached out and grabbed Daria’s arm as though to steady himself. The lieutenant was Philip Harnden—and he walked with no limp!

  Turning to the older man, Philip said, “Frank, your disguises are getting better and better. This uniform fits like a glove.”

  The older man he called Frank was riffling through papers on a desk. “Here’s your pass to get you across the river, Michael, and here are your military papers, all in order.”

  “At first,” said the dandy, “I thought all this uproar would put us in a pinch, but now it seems to be working in our favor. The extra soldiers in town will make it even easier for you to slip away.”

  “Especially with the pontoon bridge,” added Philip. “What a stroke of luck. They made a highway especially for my departure.”

  One of the other men with his back to the window said, “Give General Smith our regards, Michael. Tell him we’ll continue to gather information here and funnel it to him as best we can.”

  “It won’t be quite as good without Michael here,” put in another.

  “Your grays are in the bag on the horse,” said Frank. “Your contact in Lexington will tell you when and where it’ll be safe to change.”

  Daria thought Andrew looked like he was going to be sick. Daria had been right all along, but now that she knew for certain that Philip Harnden—or Michael—was a dirty spy, she felt like she might throw up, too. But she knew they had to do something—and do it quickly. Maybe they could fetch a policeman or a federal officer before Philip could get away.

  But as they turned to go, Daria was grabbed from behind. A big smelly hand clamped over her mouth, and her arms were jerked painfully behind her back. Beside her, she could tell that Andrew had met with the same fate. As Daria struggled and kicked, she was dragged over to a door and pushed inside.

  Inside, all eyes turned toward the children. The big man who was holding Daria said, “Looka here what we found outside the window.”

  Philip’s face went white. “Daria! Andrew!” he said softly.

  Daria tried to look sideways at her brother, but all she could see were his legs wiggling and struggling. He must have forced his face up out of his captor’s grasp, for Daria heard him choke out, “Dirty, filthy Rebel spy! I trusted you, you traitor! Our whole family trusted you! I hate you!” A hand must have clamped down again on his mouth, and Daria’s twin was forced to fall silent.

  “What’ll we do with them?” asked the big man.

  Philip’s eyes were sad. “You shouldn’t have followed me,” he said to the twins. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” To the other men he said, “Tie them up, gag them, and put them in the storage closet. Don’t let them out until I’m long gone and you’ve gotten rid of all the evidence. Then move our headquarters. They’ll cause no trouble.”

  While the men tied and gagged Andrew and Daria, the others prepared to leave.

  “You all know your assignments,” Frank told them. “There’s no reason why this shouldn’
t go as smooth as silk. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

  With the gag tearing at her mouth and the ropes cutting into her wrists, Daria was thrown into a dark closet. In a second, Andrew fell on top of her.

  “Be careful with them,” she heard Philip say.

  The door closed, and it was pitch dark. There were footsteps and the sounds of doors closing, then Daria heard Frank’s voice saying, “We’ll have to get rid of the young’uns.”

  The dandy answered, “I know. But not until Michael’s long gone. He doesn’t need to know.”

  Then it was quiet. Daria couldn’t stop the tears running down her cheeks. She couldn’t even brush them away.

  Beside her, she could hear Andrew snuffling, as though he were trying not to cry, too. Daria suddenly felt angry. These Rebel spies couldn’t be allowed to succeed. She had to do something. She struggled with the rope around her wrists. To her surprise, she found it wasn’t quite as tight as it had seemed at first. She knew her hands were more slender than her twin’s. When they lost a marble or a piece of paper behind some piece of furniture, Daria was always the one who could squeeze her hand small enough to fit. Maybe … just maybe … She wriggled and twisted her fingers, making her hands squeeze as tiny as she could possibly make them. The rough rope bit at her skin, and she could feel warm blood trickling down her wrists, but she refused to give up. With a little gasp of pain and one last terrible effort, she tugged one hand free.

  For a moment, she could only sit frozen, hardly able to believe she had really done it. Then she yanked off her gag and reached for Andrew’s. She couldn’t see him in the dark, but she could feel his warm breath on her face as she fumbled with the rest of their bonds.

  “They’re all spies,” Andrew choked as soon as he could speak. “You were right.” Daria thought he still sounded as though he might cry. “I wanted so much to help in the war—but all I did was feed information to the enemy. When I think of all the strategic places we took Philip, all the influential people we introduced him to … He was just using us the whole time!” Andrew choked back a sob. “The worst part is that I trusted him more than I did my own sister.”

  His hand reached out for Daria’s. “Can you forgive me?”

  Daria squeezed her brother’s fingers. “Of course. But we need to stop him.”

  “Let’s go!” Andrew no longer sounded as though he was going to cry.

  The children pushed open the closet door, then climbed through the window and ran down the alley. When they reached the street, they flagged down a sentry officer on horseback.

  “What are you kids doing out at this time of night? Don’t you know there’s a war on? Hey, aren’t you Dr. Fisk’s children?”

  “We are. Take us to the landing,” Daria told him. “There’s a Rebel spy who has our horse. He’s dressed as a lieutenant, and he’s carrying forged papers.”

  The officer reached down and helped Andrew mount behind him, then gave Daria a hand up to sit in front of him. Quickly, he guided the horse through the darkened streets to the landing. Daria could only hope they weren’t too late.

  Even at that late hour, the landing was crowded with soldiers and civilians who were working to defend the city.

  “Do you see him?” asked the officer.

  Daria wondered if they’d ever find Philip among so many people. Perhaps he had already gotten across the river to the safety of Kentucky.

  Suddenly, Daria spied Philip, sitting tall and proud on Bordeaux. He was talking with a guard near the bridge. The guard was looking over the papers.

  “That’s him,” Daria told the officer. “The lieutenant by the bridge!”

  “Detain that man!” the officer shouted to the guard. A startled Philip Harnden looked in their direction, then yanked Bordeaux’s reins to make a break for it down the landing and through the crowd. The guard shouted for other guards to join the chase.

  Thinking fast, Daria shouted, “Bordeaux! Come, boy!” Then Andrew gave his whistle, the special whistle that Bordeaux always answered. The horse tossed his head and stopped short halfway down the landing. A mounted guard caught up and pulled a gun on Philip Harnden, ordering him to dismount. The Rebel spy was quickly relieved of his weapons.

  Daria and Andrew scrambled down from the horse, thanking the officer for his help. Looking down at them, the young officer said, “I believe you’re the ones who should be thanked.”

  At gunpoint, Philip was brought back to where the young Fisks were standing.

  “He’s part of a ring of spies,” Andrew told them. “The headquarters is at the bookstore on Third Street. They create disguises and falsify papers there. He’s been in the city on a spy mission for several months calling himself Philip Harnden. But they called him Michael.”

  The officer said to the soldiers nearby, “Get over to that bookstore and stand guard outside until we can investigate.”

  The guard looked at Philip Harnden and shook his head. “Never would have thought it.” Then he motioned with his gun for Philip to move. “Let’s go, Reb.”

  “Could I have just a minute?” Philip asked.

  “Make it snappy,” said the guard. “We want to lock the likes of you away in a federal prison as soon as possible.”

  Looking at Andrew and Daria with sad eyes, Philip said softly, “I didn’t count on you being such fine people, Daria and Andrew. Or that we’d become such close friends. You made my difficult assignment even more difficult.”

  In a voice that cracked, Andrew asked, “How am I supposed to believe that? You’ve lied to me about everything. You probably never even played baseball.”

  Daria moved closer to Andrew’s side until her shoulder was next to his.

  “I’ve played baseball. But not in Chicago. You’ll be a great player one day, Andrew.” He paused then, and Daria could see the tears forming in the man’s eyes. “I’ve wished many times that I truly had met Dr. Kevin Fisk. He must be one fine man to have children such as you. I know he must be extremely proud.”

  Daria could not stop her own hot tears. How she wanted to hate this man, but she could not. She grabbed her brother’s hand and held on tight. At least they still had each other. And God had watched out for Bordeaux, just as she had believed He would.

  “Someday you’ll understand why I did what I did,” Philip continued. “I obeyed orders just as your father obeys orders. Just as Edward and Christian obey orders. It’s the way of war.”

  He took a step closer to Daria and Andrew. “When this wretched war is over, I’d like to come back and see you, Daria. To see all your family—your wonderful family.”

  For a moment longer Daria held on to the bitterness that had built inside her for so long. This man represented everything she hated about the war. But then she knew that Papa was right. They had to rise above the war somehow. They could not let it take root in their hearts. She swallowed hard and nodded.

  “And maybe play a game of baseball.” Philip reached out to shake Andrew’s hand.

  Daria found she was glad when Andrew reached out his hand, as well. He sounded as though he were choking out the words as he said, “I think I’d like that—Michael.”

  “Come on,” the guard growled. “Enough of all that.”

  Watching Philip being led away, Daria remembered Papa’s prayer that none of his family would allow hate to rule their hearts. God had answered that prayer.

  Andrew looked at his sister and smiled. “Thanks, Daria.”

  She wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed him tight. She knew now that no matter how old they grew or where life took them, they would never lose each other.

  CHAPTER 17

  Roy Returns

  The Rebel forces in Kentucky never arrived at Cincinnati. A few days later, martial law ended, businesses opened again, and life returned to normal. At least as normal as life ever got during the war.

  General Wallace heaped praise upon the citizens. At the family breakfast table, Daria read the letter published in the Gazette, w
hich said:

  When I assumed command, there was nothing to defend you with, except a few half-finished works and some dismounted guns; yet I was confident…. You were appealed to. The answer will never be forgotten.

  Paris may have seen something like it with her revolutionary days, but the cities of America never did. Be proud that you have given them an example so splendid…. You have won much honor.

  Lewis Wallace,

  Major General Commanding

  Later, Daria read that Kirby Smith had never been ordered to attack Cincinnati. By September 12, all General Smith’s Rebel troops were in a quick retreat. The next day, the governor sent all the Squirrel Hunters home, the thanks of the people of Cincinnati ringing in their ears.

  A few weeks later, Daria hurried up the steps of the military hospital ahead of Mama and Andrew. She was scared, nervous, and excited all at the same time. They’d just received word by messenger that Roy had been wounded—taking a musket ball in the shoulder—and that he’d arrived home on the early morning train.

  As they stepped into the dim hospital lobby, Daria saw a couple coming toward them, and she recognized Mr. and Mrs. Gartner. Mr. Gartner’s arm was around his wife as she wept and leaned heavily on him.

  Andrew ran up to them. “Is Roy here? Is he all right?” Mrs. Gartner nodded and tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come.

  “He’s in the ward on the third floor,” Mr. Gartner said. “And he’s fine. That’s why Emily here is weeping. Our boy is safe and he’s home.”

  Mrs. Gartner, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief, said, “He’s a hero. Roy is a hero.” She sniffed again. “He was supposed to stay at the rear, but he threw down his drum and ran to help a friend. When he saw the friend was dead, he picked up his musket and shot a Rebel sniper.” She couldn’t continue, so Mr. Gartner finished.

  “Killing the sniper saved the life of a Union officer, and they gave Roy a field promotion. He’s a sergeant now!”