eling that she could not endure to have Harry see her in her
present unprepossessing plight.

"Don't mention my name before those men," she said to Dr. Denslow, when
he came near again.

"Very good," he answered. "Sit still in the wagon, and nobody will see
you. I will have the wagon driver over to the hospital presently, with
the remainder of the flour, and you can go along."

All the old love seemed to have been out at compound interest, from the
increment that came back to her at the sound of Harry Glen's voice, now
so much deeper, fuller and more masterful than in the fastidious days of
yore. She lifted the smallest corner of the wagon-cover and looked out.
The barrel heads had been beaten in with stones, and a large cupful of
flour issued to each of the hungry men. They had mixed it up into dough
with water from the ditch, and were baking it before the fire on large
flat stones, which abounded in the vicinity.

"I'll mix up enough for all three of us on this board," she heard Harry
say to Abe and Kent. "With your game arm, Kent, and Abe's battered eyes,
your cooking skill's about gone. You ought to both of you go to the
hospital. You can't do any good, and why expose yourself for nothing?
I've a mind to use my authority and send you to the hospital under
guard."

"You try it if you dare, after my saving your life yesterday," said Abe.
"I can see well enough yet to shoot toward the Rebels, and that's all
that's necessary."

"I enlisted for the war," said Kent, "and I'm going to stay till peace
is declared. I went into this fight to see it through, and I'm going to
stay until we whip them if there's a piece of me left that can wiggle.
Bragg's got to acknowledge that I'm the best man before I'll ever let up
on him."

Rachel longed to leap out of the wagon, and do the bread-making for
these clumsy fellows, but pride would not consent.

The dough was browning slowly on the hot stones, but not yet nearly
done, when the spiteful spirits of firing out in front suddenly burst
into a roar, with a crash of artillery. A bugle sounded near.

"Fall in, boys," shouted Harry, springing to his feet, and tearing off
the flakes of dough, which he hastily divided with his comrades. "Right
dress. Right face, forward, file right--march!"

"If there is anything that I despise, it's disturbing a gentleman at
his meals," said Kent, giving the fire a spiteful kick, as he tucked the
bread under his lame arm, took his musket in hi