I chased this gun-boat fellow with blood-hounds; but when I overtook him, I found that he had been reinforced by half a dozen others, and I was obliged to retreat.

The scoundrels killed Colonel Acklen and one of his men, and the best blood-hound in Louisiana." "Where are the prisoners you captured ?" inquired Frank, hardly able to suppress his exultation at finding himself face to face with one of the men who had hunted him with blood-hounds.
"Oh, I left them at the back of the plantation, one of my men is keeping guard over them; but there is scarcely any need of that, for the Yankees are securely bound." "They are, eh!" exclaimed Frank, who could restrain himself no longer.
"Well, here is a Yankee who is not bound, and never intends to be;" and he raised his rifle to his shoulder, and glanced along the clean, brown barrel.

"I am the gun-boat fellow you were pursuing with blood-hounds.

So, if you wish to live five minutes longer, don't attempt to make any resistance." The rebel was taken so completely by surprise that he could not utter a word, but sat on his horse as motionless and dumb as though he had been suddenly turned into a statue.
"Come down off that horse!" commanded his captor.
The rebel obeyed, without hesitation.
"Now, have you got any dangerous weapons about you ?" inquired Frank.
"Tell the truth, now, for your life isn't worth a picayune." "Yes," answered the rebel, "I have a revolver and a Bowie-knife;" and he raised his hand to his breast pocket.
"Hands down! hands down!" exclaimed Frank; "I want to examine your pockets myself;" and he stepped forward and relieved the rebel of a Bowie-knife, a revolver, several cartridges, a flint and steel, and some papers.

These, with the exception of the revolver, he laid carefully on the ground, and placed his rifle beside them.