Rebel in Time

McCulloch watched as they kicked their mounts around and galloped away. Troy Harmon. He breathed the name under his breath like a curse. It was a curse. The jig had followed him after all! He never would have believed that a creature like that would have had the guts. Not guts, just stupidity, animal reflex like a snapping turtle hanging on after it was dead. Well, that didn't matter now. He was here, causing trouble. And that newsman had brought him right to his door. Shaw was going to pay for that. If only his mind hadn't been so occupied with the pressing matters to hand, if he had only recognized the jig when he had first appeared. Only later had the resemblance begun to worry him; the possibility had always been there that he might be followed. That was why he had taken precautions. The trap he had set had been a good one, had almost worked. But the jigaboo must have suspected something, found out some way. Well, that didn't matter now. Everything else was progressing on schedule. All the plans had been made and things were going forward without a hitch. Except for this little setback. So be it. You had to take your losses in war. A few lost battles didn't count. The final victory did. And that was the one that he was going to win.

As soon as the factory manager showed up, McCulloch put him in charge of the salvage, then rode home. It was almost seven o'clock. Plenty of time to wash and change, even have some breakfast. The food would have to make up for the sleep that he had missed. Coffee, and some of the bourbon. He must remember to take a flask with him as well. The meeting was set for ten. If he rode out by nine he would be there with plenty of time to spare.

A fresh horse, saddled and bridled, was waiting outside by the time McCulloch had finished breakfast, then gone up to the safe in his bedroom. It had been specially made for him in London; the locks had been fitted in his presence. There were three of them, situated one above the other, and only a single set of keys for them in the entire world. He inserted the keys, one by one, turning them and unlocking the solid steel door, then dragging it open. Inside were fitted drawers containing a little gold, a good deal of currency, as well as all of his papers. And the large wooden chest. He pulled the chest to him, smiling. The future of the South lay within.

After closing and locking the safe again, he wrapped the chest in a waterproof sheet and tucked it under his arm. The slave who was holding the horse tried to help him with it, but he slapped him away with his riding crop. No black hands on this! He secured the chest in place behind the saddle, patted his pocket to see if the flask were secure, then swung up into the saddle.

He turned the horse away from the city and cantered slowly down the road.

Ten o'clock found him at a country crossroads in the hills. There were farms nearby, though none of them were visible from this spot. Which is why he had picked it. The road behind him twisted off uphill before vanishing into the thick forest. McCulloch looked at his watch, then put it away and took out the large silver flask. He took a deep swallow, then a second, and was just lowering it when he heard the other horse approaching. He spurred his own horse forward and was waiting when the other man rode up.

'You are Colonel McCulloch?' the newcomer said. He was an Army officer, a lieutenant of the cavalry, and sat his spirited black horse with practised ease. His long dark hair swept down almost to his collar. He had a full beard and long mustachios, his forehead high and fair, the eyes beneath penetrating and sharp.

'I am McCulloch. I must thank you for coming all this way, sir, with scant reason given for your mission.'

'We have mutual friends, colonel, who assured me that the trip would be more than worthwhile. The most important thing that will ever happen to you, one said. I'll admit that I am most intrigued. Now, colonel, will you divulge this secret that has everyone so enthused?'

'I will, lieutenant. But I won't tell you — I will show you. But not here. If you will be patient for a short while longer, we will move farther back into this forest.'

Since neither of them was given to small talk they rode in silence. McCulloch was obviously familiar with the track for he turned off onto a small path that wound up through the trees. The path ended in a small open glade that faced towards the sharp rise of the hill. The colonel dismounted and the other man swung down beside him; they secured their horses under the trees. The lieutenant looked on with unconcealed curiosity as McCulloch unslung the chest and carried it out into the sunlight.