The Rebel Spy (4 page)

When the Civil War first began to rear its head in the distance, Belle’s father stood out for the right of any sovereign state to secede from the Union if its interests clashed with the Federal Government; one of the main causes of the War, although the Yankees made much use of the slavery issue as being more likely to induce the masses to fight. Some weeks before the commencement of actual hostilities, a bunch of Union supporters attacked Belle’s home. They killed her mother and father, wounding the girl and might have done worse if the family’s ‘downtrodden and abused’ slaves had not arrived and driven off their ‘saviours’. By the time she recovered, the War had begun. Belle put her increased hatred of the Yankees to good use. Joining her cousin, Rose Greenhow, she became an agent for the Confederate Secret Service, often delivering the information gathered personally. Stonewall Jackson himself referred to Belle as his best courier, after she brought news to him which helped make possible the victory at the first battle of Bull Run.

Since then Belle carried on the good work. While the Yankees knew her name, skilled use of disguises prevented her from being recognised. Pinkerton, soon to form his own detective agency, had his best operatives after Belle but without success.

Using information she gathered, Belle had recently completed an assignment. With Dusty Fog’s aid, she captured a Yankee Army payroll and used the money to buy arms for the South.* Resting until orders arrived directing her to another assignment, she posed as one of General Ole Devil Hardin’s kin on a visit from Texas. As such she naturally received an invitation to the ball. On receiving Tolling’s message that Ludlow was not all he seemed, Belle forgot relaxation and went into action with all the deadly efficiency that gained her the name ‘the Rebel Spy’.

“Absom said you had black hair,” Tolling remarked as they walked across to and looked down at the groaning, stirring man.

“This is a wig,” Belle replied, touching her ‘hair’. “Your note didn’t say much about him. Who is he?”

“His real name’s Byron and he’s a real talented Yankee gentleman.”

“One of their spies?”

“Paid by them for it, anyways.”

“And his game?”

“Afore the War he used to work the riverboats,” Tolling explained. “Making up to rich women, cheating at cards. Got him a way of becoming real friendly.”

“And now?”

“There you’ve got me. He’s one of a bunch who the Yankees sent out of New Orleans. Lucienne got on to them and sent me after him. Only he travelled faster’n me and I’ve only just caught up with him.”

“We’ll have to see if we can make him talk,” the girl remarked. “Only we can’t do it here or now. Can you keep him hidden until I find help to take him away?”

“I reckon so,” Tolling drawled. “Only he’ll likely make a fuss when he comes too. If he does, I’ll whomp him over the head.”

“You might do it too hard,” the girl smiled. “They do say Yankees have soft skulls. I’ve a better way, if you fetch me some water.”

Crossing the stable to a pump fitted on to a stone sink in one corner, Tolling took up the metal dipper which hung on its side. He worked the pump’s handle, filled the dipper with water and returned to the girl. In his absence she had taken a ring with a large, heavy stone set into it from her bag. Holding the ring over the dipper, she touched its side and the stone flicked upwards at one side from the setting. A brown powder trickled out of the cavity exposed beneath the raised stone, dribbling into the water where it dissolved without a visible trace.

“That’s neat,” Tolling said as the girl pressed the stone back into place.

“Rose Greenhow suggested it and had one made for each of us,” Belle replied. “Although I think she stole the idea from reading about the Borgia family in Italy. If he drinks that he’ll give you no trouble.”

“He’ll drink it,” Tolling assured her.

Although they both were prepared to deal with some reluctance on Ludlow’s part, it failed to materialise. Most likely he would have objected to accepting a drink if he retained his normal quick wits. However Belle’s treatment robbed him of them temporarily and pain gave him a thirst. So he drank greedily when Tolling held the dipper to his lips.

“He’s taking it like a deacon at a whisky still,” grinned Tolling.

Hearing the voice, Ludlow focussed his eyes first on the speaker, then past Tolling to where Belle stood. With a low curse, Ludlow tried to force himself up from the floor.

“Don’t worry,” Belle told Tolling as he reached down to restrain Ludlow.

Before Ludlow could do more than haul himself into a sitting position, the powder took effect. His body went limp and he slipped down to the floor again. Bending down, Tolling made a quick investigation and straightened up with a satisfied nod of his head.

“He’s sleeping like a babe, Miss Boyd. That’s real potent stuff. What is it?”

“I never learned its name,” the girl replied. “Rose got a supply of it from the clerk of a river-boat. He claimed that a small dose would put the biggest man to sleep and keep him that way for a couple of hours; and it does.”

At that moment they heard the drumming of rapidly approaching hooves. Telling her companion to hide Ludlow under the straw, Belle darted to the stable door and looked out. A sigh of relief came from her as she recognised the rider who came towards her. If anything, she would find the problem of secretly removing Ludlow made easier with the newcomer’s arrival.

Chapter 4

“Why Cousin Dusty,” Belle greeted, walking towards the small Texan as he halted his horse. “I surely didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

For a moment the brunette wig fooled Dusty, then recognition came and he wondered what Belle might be doing at the stables.

“I only just got in,” he replied, swinging from the saddle. “Was told back to the Regiment that Uncle Devil’s here and so I came right over. Is he up to the house, Belle?”

“He surely is,” Belle agreed, speaking as she had all the time in the world for she saw a young officer approaching them. “I just knew something would happen to spoil his evening. ‘Beulah Parrish!’ I said when I saw you coming, ‘Cousin Dusty’s bringing trouble for Uncle Devil for certain sure.’ ”

“You could be right at that, Cousin Beulah,” Dusty drawled, grinning inwardly at the neat way in which Belle passed on her current identity. “Only it’s nothing to spoil his night.”

Catching Dusty’s head shake, the officer steered his companion by without doing more than call a greeting. One look at Dusty’s appearance told Belle that he had ridden long and hard. So she put aside her thoughts of asking him to help with removing Ludlow. Only a matter of some importance would bring Dusty to interrupt Ole Devil at the ball. With that in mind she reverted to her original idea of going to Buck Blaze for help.

“Why not let Tolling tend to stabling your horse?” she suggested.

“Who?”

“He works here,” smiled the girl. “It will save time, Dusty.” Normally Dusty would not have thought to allow a stranger to take care of his horse, so he realised the girl must have good reason for making the suggestion. Looking to where Tolling came from the stable, Dusty noticed the man walked with a pronounced limp. All too well Tolling knew of the deserter problem which plagued both sides throughout the War. Figuring that a healthy man employed in such a menial capacity might otherwise arouse comment, Tolling adopted a means of showing why he apparently did not serve his country.

“Let me have your reins, Cap’n,” Tolling offered. “I’ll see to it for you.”

Before leaving the horse, Dusty took three pads of money from its saddle-pouches and slipped them into the front of his tunic. Tolling led the horse away and Dusty turned to Belle.

“I’d as soon not go into the ballroom dressed like this,” he said. “Reckon you can fix it for Uncle Devil to meet me outside?”

“I’ll see to it,” she promised. “Go around the right side of the house and wait by the first door. I’ll ask the General to meet you there.”

On entering the main room, Belle passed with leisurely-seeming speed to where Ole Devil sat talking to their host. Catching the girl’s slight signal, the General rose to his feet and joined her. Tall, lean, immaculate in his full-dress uniform, Ole Devil had a sharp, tanned, hawk-like face set in disciplined lines that rarely showed the true, generous nature underneath the hard exterior. When he heard of Dusty’s arrival, he nodded and returned to the host. As Belle expected, Joe Hemming, their host, put his study at Ole Devil’s disposal and she told the General that Dusty would be waiting at its outside door. So casually had both she and Ole Devil acted that none of the guests suspected anything might be wrong. After Ole Devil strolled off in the direction of the study, Buck Blaze drifted to Belle’s side.

“You didn’t have to slap that preacher’s face, now did you, Cousin Beulah?” he asked with a grin.

“How’d you guess?” she replied. “I need your help, Buck.”

“It’s yours. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you on the way to the stables,” Belle promised. “Only let’s make it look natural, so nobody guesses something’s wrong.”

Letting Dusty into Hemming’s study, Ole Devil walked across to the desk, waved the youngster into a chair and sat down facing him.

“Well, Dustine,” the General said. “What brings you here?”

“I’m not sure, sir,” Dusty answered, taking the money from his tunic and placing it upon the desk before his uncle. “I just thought you’d be interested in this money.”

“Why?” asked Ole Devil, picking up one of the bundles.

“We captured a Yankee convoy and found a box full of Confederate money in the possession of a civilian.”

While Dusty spoke, Ole Devil thumbed through the notes. Then the General gave them a closer examination. When he raised his face to look at Dusty, the small Texan read interest and concern where most people would have seen no change of expression.

“A box full like this?” the General said.

“Yes, sir. I thought that the man might be taking it to the Indian Nations so he could have it passed to Yankee spies in Texas. Figured you’d be interested and as soon as we crossed the Ouachita I had the box loaded on a pack horse and came ahead of the company. They told me where to find you at Headquarters.”

“The patrol went well?”

“Easy enough, sir. We hit the Yankee guard on Elk Crossing at sundown, ran them off without loss to us. There was only a half company of Stedloe’s Zouaves and the Arkansas Rifles on our side gave us covering fire.”

“Go fetch Miss Boyd,” Ole Devil ordered when Dusty finished speaking.

Something in the General’s brusque manner told Dusty that he made the correct decision in coming ahead of his Company and interrupting Ole Devil’s relaxation. After the youngster left the room, Ole Devil remained seated at the desk and took up the other packets of money. Although his tanned face showed little or nothing, Ole Devil had never been more concerned than at that moment.

While walking towards the barn, Dusty wondered what caused Ole Devil’s anxiety. Few people would have read the General’s moods, but Dusty knew his uncle felt deep concern at the find. More than the mere capture of a Yankee spies’ pay-master warranted on the surface. Ahead of Dusty, the man Belle had called Tolling emerged from the stables.

Hearing Dusty’s approaching footsteps, Tolling quickly reverted to his painful-appearing limp; but suddeniy realised that he had made a mistake. Not that it would matter under the circumstances; and he would never have made such a blunder in enemy territory. Anyway, Tolling mused, that small young captain—Belle had not thought to mention Dusty’s identity—was unlikely to notice—

Even as the thought began to form, Tolling saw Dusty’s right hand make a move. Then the man stared into the muzzle of the Army Colt which a mere three-quarters of a second before reposed harmlessly in the small Texan’s left holster.

“Where’d you get the wound, hombre?” Dusty asked.

“At Antietam with the Hampton Legion, cap’n,” Tolling answered, staring at the Colt like a snake-mesmerised cottontail rabbit.

Belle came from the stables, wondering to whom Tolling spoke. Halting, she looked from Dusty to Tolling.

“What’s going on?” she said.

“Did you see the way this gent limps?” asked Dusty.

“Yes,” smiled the girl. “It looked very bad.”

“Real bad,” drawled Dusty dryly. “Only it doesn’t stay in the one leg.”

“It’s all right, Dusty,” Belle chuckled. “I can vouch for Tolling.”

“He’s one of your crowd, is he?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, mister,” Dusty said, holstering the Colt. “I figured you to be a deserter and reckoned the time to ask about it was after I made sure you couldn’t argue about answering.”

“You made sure of that,” admitted Tolling. “I’ve never seen a gun come out so fast.”

“I thought so too, the first time I saw it,” smiled Belle and looked at Dusty. “Your business with Ole Devil didn’t take long.”

“He wants to see you as soon as convenient, Belle,” Dusty answered.

“Which means right now, even though it’s not convenient,” the girl said. “Can you and Buck tend to things here, Tolling?”

“I reckon so,” the man replied.

“Then I’ll come straight away, Dusty,” the girl stated. Leaving the removal of Ludlow to Buck and Tolling, Belle accompanied Dusty to where Ole Devil waited for them. After seating the girl with his usual courtesy, Ole Devil told Dusty to go through the full story of the convoy’s capture again. Belle realised that something of importance lay behind the order and listened intently. Certainly Ole Devil would not call her in merely to hear the story of a successful raid.

“What do you think, Miss Boyd?” asked the General when Dusty finished.

“The box would have had an infernal contrivance fitted to destroy its contents if they were important,” the girl replied. “Which a shipment of money to pay their spies would be.”

“And the money itself?”

“May I see some of it, General?”

“Help yourself,” authorised Ole Devil, waving a hand to the three pads of notes on the desk top.

Taking one pad up, the girl studied the top note and then turned her eyes in Dusty’s direction. “They were all new notes, Dusty?”

“All I saw, although I didn’t take them all out to check.”

Around Belle’s neck hung a pendant with a large locket attached. Reaching up, the girl unclipped the pendant and removed it. Watched by the two men, she then eased of the glass cover of the locket. Drawing the top bill from one of the pads, she held the glass over it. From where he stood, Dusty could see that the glass was in reality a powerful lens and the girl used its power of magnification to examine the bill carefully.

“Well, Miss Boyd?” asked Ole Devil.

“How big was the box you took, Dusty?” the girl inquired, ignoring the question.

“About so big,” replied Dusty, demonstrating with his hands. “There’d be a fortune in it.”

“And unless I’m mistaken,” Belle said quietly, “it’s a fortune in counterfeit money.”

“Counterfeit?” Dusty repeated.

“You thought so too, General,” Belle commented.

“I thought so,” Ole Devil admitted.

“Likely printing their own’s the only way the Yankees can lay hands on enough of our money to supply their spies, sir,” Dusty remarked.

“It cuts deeper than that, Dusty,” Belle put in. “Much deeper.”

“Howd’ you mean, Belle?”

“The Yankees could have found a mighty smart way to win the War.”

“Miss Boyd’s right, Dustine,” Ole Devil went on. “If enough of this counterfeit money is put into circulation, it will ruin the South’s economy.”

“One box full, sir?” asked Dusty.

“The Yankees won’t stop at just the one,” Ole Devil replied and went on to explain how paper money only retained its value when its issuer possessed sufficient assets to cover its nominal value. “So if the Yankees can flood the South with this stuff they’re printing, we won’t be able to do so. Our economy will be smashed and that will end the War just as surely as if they whipped us on every battlefield.”

“Which same they’ll have to be stopped, sir,” Dusty stated. “Only I’ll be damned if I can see how to do it.”

“The only way to do it would be to smash their printing plates and press,” Belle said. “And to do that we’d have to learn where it is.”

“Oliver might know,” Dusty told her.

“He may,” agreed Belle. “In fact he probably does. But a man fanatical enough to try to destroy that box at the cost of his own life won’t talk easily.”

“Even if he does, the chances are that the press’ll be somewhere that we can’t reach,” Ole Devil pointed out.

“When will he be getting here, Dusty?” asked Belle.

“Noon tomorrow at the earliest.”

“I’ll see him when he comes—and don’t tell me that it’s not a chore for a woman, please.”

“It’s not,” snorted Ole Devil. “But then, neither is spying—but you’re still the best spy we have.”

“Don’t let Rose Greenhow hear you say that, General,” warned Belle with a smile. Then she became serious again. “Dusty, did Oliver mention what he was doing travelling on a Yankee convoy?”

“Going into the Indian Nations to preach to the Indians,” Dusty replied.

“And so was Ludlow,” Ole Devil put in.

“So Mrs. Hemming told me,” the girl breathed. “Is there any chance of our leaving soon, General?”

“Certainly.”

“If I can, I’d like to be around when Ludlow recovers,” the girl said. “He may know something and if he does, I might be able to make him talk.”

“Do you think he’s involved in this business?”

“I don’t know, General. But he was one of a party who left New Orleans and scattered through the South. A man like him, smooth, with a way of charming people, could go anywhere and pass the money without arousing suspicion.”

“You’re right at that. He came with what seemed perfectly legitimate letters of introduction.”

“Give Pinkerton and the U.S. Secret Service their due, General,” Belle said. “They’re thorough. They’d see that he came ready to get co-operation from you and the civil authorities too.”

“What do you want to do then?” Ole Devil inquired. “Question Ludlow first. According to Tolling, he’s working for the Yankees for money and that kind break easier than somebody who’s doing it out of loyalty or for his beliefs. As I said, I’d like to be on hand when he recovers.”

“We can pull out in ten-fifteen minutes without arousing too much comment,” the General told her. “Will that do?”

“Yes. It will give me time to change and make my arrangements after we reach the camp,” Belle replied.

“Shall I ride out now, sir?” Dusty asked. “If folks see me here in these clothes, they’ll start wondering what brought me back and tie it in with your leaving the ball.”

“Go ahead, Dustine,” Ole Devil confirmed. “Where’s that box of money?”

“Locked in your office, with a guard at the door and window.”

“Good. Have the armourer on hand ready for when I return.”

“Could you leave the box intact, General?” Belle put in. “At least until after I’ve seen Ludlow.”

“Certainly,” the General promised. “Get moving, Dustine. I’ll be along with Miss Boyd and my staff as soon as I can arrange it.”

Saluting, Dusty left the room. He went along to the stables and collected his horse. There was no sign of Tolling, so Dusty concluded he and Buck Blaze had already left with their prisoner. After saddling his horse, Dusty rode away from the Hemming house in the direction of the Texas Light Cavalry’s camp. On the way he caught up to his cousin and Tolling as they rode in the same direction, with Ludlow hanging limply across the saddle of a third horse. Pausing long enough to learn where they intended to place the man on their arrival, Dusty pushed on again at a faster pace than the others for he had things to do at the camp.