The town straddled the Salt River. Once the advance elements were across the bridge, the raiders invested the town and prepared to defend it against an attack from the northern and eastern points of the compass, as nobody knew for certain where the Union regular forces were located. Ty dismounted at the foot of the steep hill in the middle of Chester. The county courthouse, an imposing stone structure with entryways on three levels, occupied the top of the hill. “Must be on important business if you climb that bugger,” Ebb White quipped. The remark drew a meager laugh from a worn-down Ty. Now that the sheer excitement and terror of running the Pomeroy gauntlet and charging the Union regulars had subsided, he was spent and famished. The sight of Private E.J. Pursley and Corporal Sam Bryant bearing a stock of freshly stolen cheese, crackers, jerked beef, baked honey cakes, and jugs of hard cider set his mouth to watering. The mess cook and his helper had raided grocery baskets and boxes of goodies prepared to feed home guards gathering later in the day to blockade the town.
