r the war," said Watson cheerfully.
"That great bond of kinship will prove more powerful than anything else."

"I hope so," said Dick earnestly.

They had the contractor to dinner with them, and he opened new worlds
of interest and endeavor for all of them. He was a mighty captain
of industry, a term that came into much use later, and mentally they
followed him as he led the way into fields of immense industrial
achievement. They were fascinated as he talked with truthful eloquence
of what the country could become, the vast network of railroads to be
built, the limitless fields of wheat and corn to be grown, the mines of
the richest mineral continent to be opened, and a trade to be acquired,
that would spread all over the world. They forgot the war while he
talked, and their souls were filled and stirred with the romance of peace.

"I leave for Washington tonight," said the contractor, when the dinner
was finished. "My work here is done. Our next meeting will be in
Richmond."

All three of the young men took it as prophetic and when John Watson
started north they waved him a friendly farewell. Another long wait
followed, while the iron winter, one of the fiercest in the memory of man,
still gripped both North and South. But late in February there was a
great bustle, portending movement. Supplies were gathered, horses were
examined critically, men looked to their arms and ammunition, and the
talk was all of high anticipation. An electric thrill ran through the
men. They had tasted deep of victory since the previous summer, and they
were eager to ride to new triumphs.

"It's to be an affair of cavalry altogether," said Warner, who obtained
the first definite news. "We're to go toward Staunton, where Early and
his remnants have been hanging out, and clean 'em up. Although it's to
be done by cavalry alone, as I told you, it'll be the finest cavalry you
ever saw."

And when Sheridan gathered his horsemen for the march Warner's words came
true. Ten thousand Union men, all hardy troopers now, were in the saddle,
and the great Sheridan led them. The eyes of Little Phil glinted as he
looked upon his matchless command, bold youths who had learned in the
long hard training of war itself, to be the equals of Stuart's own famous
riders. And the eyes of Sheridan glinted again when they passed over the
Winchesters, the peerless regiment, the bravest of the brave, with the
colonel and the three youthful captains in