Miss Katie's Rosewood Read Online Free PDF

reached the stream. Others slowly joined them. Some drank, some doused their faces and heads, others took off their hats and shirts and doused their entire heads and shoulders and torsos and made a mini-bath of the occasion.
    As he stood watching, while most of the men’s backs were turned, a voice spoke beside him.
    â€œNot much of a scene for a painting, I wouldn’t think.”
    Robert turned to see the same officer he had run into several times before.
    He laughed, though a little uneasily. The man had startled him.
    â€œNo, sir!” he said. “But it’s all part of camp life, I suppose.”
    â€œIt hardly seems it would interest a civilian.”
    â€œI, uh . . . thought I would try to capture some daily life like this. I’ve just been thinking of a few ideas to see what might be best to work with.”
    â€œAh, right . . . I see. But your pad is still under your arm.”
    â€œI only got here a minute ago. I hadn’t decided what kind of scene to do.”
    The captain eyed him a moment longer, a hint of suspicion apparently brewing under the surface whether this young so-called artist was telling him everything. But he did not pursue it and continued to stand at his side watching the men wash.
    The man was certainly inquisitive!
    One of the men along the row at the stream bank took offhis hat, bent low, and completely dunked his head into the chilly water, then rose up with a wild exclamation of delight. Shaking his wet hair, he reached for the towel at his waist. Then he walked up away from the stream, eyes wide and sparkling from the exhilaration of his cold dunking.
    An audible gasp escaped the lips of the minister’s son.
    It was him!
    â€œWhat’s that?” asked the man at his side.
    â€œOh . . . oh, nothing,” replied Robert. “I just thought . . . it’s nothing.”
    His brain was spinning. He had to act fast. The man was returning to his tent.
    â€œExcuse me,” he said to the officer.
    He walked quickly after the man who had arrested his attention, trying to calm down so his voice wouldn’t tremble and give him away.
    â€œSergeant Teague,” he said from behind, hurrying to catch up.
    The man paused and turned, obviously surprised when he saw who had spoken.
    â€œThat’s right,” he said.
    â€œI heard that you used to be stationed in Mississippi,” Robert said. “I’ve never been there. What’s it like? Is it just like this?”
    â€œAny camp is just like another,” the sergeant answered. “Hotter and wetter is all.”
    â€œHow long have you been here?”
    â€œNot long. I was at Vicksburg. That was a nasty one. But I managed to get my share of Yanks. That all you want to know?”
    â€œUh, yeah . . . I suppose so.”
    Teague hesitated. His eyes narrowed and he gazed intently into the young man’s face as if revolving something around in his mind. Then he shook his head and returned to his tent.
    Robert watched him until he was inside, confirming once more the tent location on his camp drawing. In the distance the inquisitive captain was watching him. Robert hurried back to his horse and rode out of camp back toward the city.

A PPREHENSION
    6

    H E RODE STRAIGHT TO THE B ALTIMORE POLICE headquarters and asked for Detective Heyes.
    â€œMr. Heyes,” he said excitedly, “I’ve found him. I found Damon Teague. It’s him. I recognized him from the shooting.”
    â€œWhat do you want me to do?” asked Heyes skeptically.
    â€œWell . . . go arrest him, what else?”
    â€œHave you ever heard of proof . . . innocent until proven guilty?”
    â€œSure. But can’t you arrest him on suspicion? He’s got to be arrested if he’s going to be brought to trial. You’ve got to do something before they break camp.”
    â€œWhat would be the basis of an arrest?”
    â€œA witness—me!”
    The detective eyed him and his