CHAPTER SEVEN


IN MARIETTA

Tom awoke dazed from twelve hours of sleep. For a moment he could not
remember where he was; then it flashed across his mind. In Chattanooga! He
sprang from bed, dressed and went downstairs. It was late, but the
proprietor of the hotel gave him breakfast, after some grumbling about
people who had nothing to do but sleep.

The train from Marietta did not leave until two o'clock, and as the hotel
clock had just struck ten, Tom began to wonder what he should do with
himself. For a half-hour he sat in the hotel watching the people who passed
in and out. The sight of so many young men in civilian clothes reassured
him, for it meant that there was less chance of being questioned by the
military authorities. Finally he went out to the street. The rain had
stopped, and the sun was struggling through the clouds.

There were crowds of civilians and soldiers upon the narrow sidewalks, and
through the streets lumbered the heavy wagons of the Southern army. Tom
walked along slowly, scanning the faces of the people he passed, hoping to
catch a glimpse of Brown. Finally he reached the station.

A train had just come in, and the station was crowded with passengers,
struggling out with the bags and packages, and townspeople who had come to
get the news. Tom listened closely to the chatter. The train was from
Memphis and had passed over the line which Mitchel was about to attack.
There was no suggestion of excitement or activity along the route. Then the