o the starshine. He was
still rejoicing in the victory, not because the other side had lost,
but because, in his opinion, it brought peace much nearer. He realized
as he lay there gazing into the skies that the South could never win as
long as the North held fast. And the North was holding fast. The stars
as they winked at him seemed to say so.

He propped himself upon his elbow and said:

"George, does your little algebra tell you anything about the meaning of
this victory?"

Warner tapped his breast.

"That noble book is here in the inside pocket of my tunic," he replied.
"It's not necessary for me to take it out, but tucked away on the 118th
page is a neat little problem which just fits this case. Let x equal
the Army of Northern Virginia, let y equal the army of Early here in
the valley, and let x plus y equal a possibly successful defense by the
South. But when y is swept away it's quite certain that x standing alone
cannot do so. My algebra tells you on the 118th page, tucked away neatly
in a paragraph, that this is the beginning of the end."

"It sounds more like a formula than a problem, George, but still I'm
putting my faith in your little algebra book."

"George's algebra is all right," said Pennington, "but it doesn't always
go before, it often comes after. It doesn't show us how to do a thing,
but proves how we've done it. As for me, I'm pinning my faith to Little
Phil. He won a great victory today, when all our other leaders for
years have been beaten in the Valley of Virginia, and sometimes beaten
disgracefully too."

"Your argument is unanswerable, Frank," said Dick. "I didn't expect such
logic from you."

"Oh, I think I'm real bright at times."

"Despite popular belief," said Warner.

"I don't advertise my talents," said Pennington.

"But you ought to. They need it."

Dick laughed.

"Frank," he said, "I give you your own advice to me. Don't argue with
him. With him the best proof that he's always right is because he thinks
he is."

"I think clearly and directly, which can be said of very few of my
friends," rejoined Warner.

Then all three of them laughed and lay down again, resting their heads on
soft lumps of turf.

They were under the boughs of a fine oak, on which the leaves were yet
thick. Birds, hidden among the leaves, began to sing, and the three,
astonished, raised themselves up again. It was a chorus, beautiful and
startling, and many other soldiers listene