just a little. The sergeant, buried all but his
head among the corn shucks, was breathing deeply and peacefully.

He looked out at one of the cracks, but he saw only rain sweeping by
in misty sheets. The road that ran by the field was invisible. He gave
devout thanks that this tight little corn crib had put itself in their
way. Then he returned to his slumbers, and when he awoke again the
sergeant was sitting by one of the cracks smoothing his thick hair with
a small comb.

"I always try to keep as neat as I can, Mr. Mason," he said, apologizing
for such weakness. "It gives you more courage, and if I get killed I
want to make a decent body. Here's your breakfast, sir. There's enough
left for the two of us, and I've divided it equally."

Cold ham, bacon and crackers were laid out on clean shucks, and they ate
until nothing was left. It was now full daylight, and the rain was dying
away to a sprinkle. The farmer might come out at any time to his crib,
and they felt that they must be up and away.

They bade farewell to their pleasant shelter of a night, and, after
pulling through the deep mud of the field, entered again the forest,
which was now soaking wet.

"If Colonel Hertford is near where we reckon he is we ought to meet him
by nightfall," said Sergeant Whitley.

"We're sure to reach him before then," said Dick joyously.

"Colonel Hertford is a mighty good man, and if he says he's going to
be at a certain place at a certain time I reckon he'll be there, Mr.
Mason."

"And then we'll bring him back and join General Grant. What do you think
of our General, Sergeant?"

Dick spoke with all the freedom then so prevalent in the American
armies, where officer and man were often on nearly a common footing, and
the sergeant replied with equal freedom.

"General Grant hits and hammers, and I guess that's what war is,"
he said. "On the plains we had a colonel who didn't know much about
tactics. He said the only way to put down hostile Indians was to find
'em, and beat 'em, and I guess that plan will work in any war, big or
little."

"I heard before I left the army that Washington was getting scared,
afraid that he was taking too big a risk here in the heart of the
Confederacy, and that his operations might be checked by orders from the
capital."

Sergeant Whitley smiled a wise smile.

"We sergeants learn to know the officers," he said, "and I've had the
chance to look at General Grant a lot. He doesn't say much,