Dawn crept grayly into the eastern sky and Lieutenant Cord Pinckney watched the ever-growing light with care. Although they had crept by the main New Orleans’ up-river defenses, there was always the chance of meeting some U.S. Navy craft returning from a journey. Or if a chance-passing cavalry patrol happened to see them from the shore, it would only be a matter of hours at most before a fast launch or two came after them.
On arrival at the hidden dock, Dusty, Belle and Willie found everything ready. Each night, when the smoke would not be seen rising from among the ruins, Pinckney’s men built enough fire to raise a head of steam capable of giving the Jack motive power. So they needed only to pole their vessel out from under its hiding place and set off up-river.
Already the alarm had been raised and the first part of a massive search campaign begun. While the main body of men concentrated on the area around Gaton’s house, the U.S. Navy started to put out guard boats on the river so thickly that sneaking through them in the Jack, even ballasted down to the limits of safety, invited disaster.
Jim Bludso came up with the answer. In fact he had been preparing for it through his return to the Busted Boiler and carrying the gear to the dock. Once he had delivered the two bags and given Dusty’s message to Pinckney, Bludso told the lieutenant of his own idea. Before the others arrived, Bludso left to put the plan into operation. With the aid of Paupin and three trusted men from the Busted Boiler, Bludso stole a steam launch used as picket boat by the Yankee fleet, making sure that the theft would be discovered quickly. Then he and his men headed downstream as if trying to escape through to the sea. Rockets flamed into the air and steam whistles whooped a warning, drawing guard boats and such larger craft as had enough steam up to follow down river and away from the Jack.
Timing their moves just right, Bludso’s men abandoned the stolen launch and left it tearing along with a locked tiller to be sunk by shell fire from the pursuing vessels. After swimming ashore, Bludso and his party made good their escape. While the Yankees searched for survivors, and eventually concluded that the launch went down with all hands, the Jack passed up-river unnoticed.
The journey north took longer than coming down to New Orleans. There could be no traveling by day under a pile of bushes as that would only attract attention. So at dawn each day the Jack halted at the first suitable spot and hid in some way until darkness left them free to move on again. Clearly the Yankees did not suspect their method of escape, for no search of the up-river side of New Orleans was made.
At last they turned off the Mississippi and up the Red River. Despite being in comparatively safe waters, Pinckney waited until nightfall before trying to reach Alexandria. So far the Yankees did not know of the Jack’s presence on the Upper Mississippi and he wanted to keep it that way. So he chanced dangers of passing through the spar-torpedo field in the darkness rather than make an appearance in the city’s dock area during daylight and in view of possible Yankee spies.
Dusty and Belle landed at the same lagoon from which they embarked. Nor did they waste time in celebrating their successful mission. As soon as she could arrange, Belle and Dusty boarded a side-wheel riverboat and carried on with their trip to rejoin Ole Devil.
“You’ve done well, Miss Boyd, Dustine,” said the General in a grim satisfaction as he listened to their report. “And how about your friends?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Belle admitted. “You’ve heard nothing?”
“Not a thing.”
After the War Dusty learned that Madam Lucienne and Paupin made good their departure on a British ship after being kept hidden by Bludso until the Yankees gave up an extensive search for the wreckers of the counterfeiting plant. No suspicion fell on Bludso, although Pinkerton himself conducted an investigation into the deaths of Turnpike’s party. For the rest of the War Bludso served the South well and with peace returned to being a riverboat engineer on a new Prairie Belle.
Not that Dusty and Belle knew anything of their friends as they sat in Ole Devil’s office on their return.
“Any news for me, General?” asked the girl.
“You’re to go as soon as possible to Atlanta,” Ole Devil replied. “Dustine, that damned guerilla Hannah’s come into our area again. Tomorrow you’ll take your company, a sharpshooter and mountain howitzer and bring in the whole stinking bunch.”
A mission had been completed at great risk, but that did not end the War. Short of men, Ole Devil could not afford the luxury of keeping his favorite nephew and a full company of men sitting idle.
“I’ll be gone when you come back, Dustine,” the girl said as she and the small Texan left the office. “Thanks for everything.”
“What’ll you be doing in Atlanta, Belle?” he inquired.
“I’ll not know until I reach there.”
“Why don’t you give it up while you can, Belle?” Dusty said. “You nearly lost your life this time.”
“I can’t give it up. It’s in my blood, Dusty. Lord knows what I’ll do when the War’s over. There’ll be no more need for me or my talents then.”
And Belle laughed. Neither she nor Dusty realized that the War would soon be over; or how there would still in peace be work for the Rebel Spy.
For details of Dusty’s hunt after Hannah’s Guerillas and his next meeting with the Rebel Spy, read THE BAD BUNCH.