prickled at the roots. He did not know what
had caused it, but surely it was a sign of some danger.

The night deepened steadily as they were talking. The twilight had gone
long since. The last afterglow had faded. The darkness was heavy with
warmth. The thick foliage of spring rustled gently. Dick's sensation
that something unusual was happening did not depart.

The four men, after looking at one another, looked fixedly at Dick.

"Sonny," said Robertson, "you ain't got no call to worry 'bout our
troubles. As I said, this is a good, strong hoss of mine, an' it will
carry us just as far as we go an' no further."

It was an enigmatical reply, and Dick saw that it was useless to ask
them questions. Robertson mounted, and Dick, without another word,
sprang up behind him. Two of the privates rode up close, one on either
side, and the other kept immediately behind. He happened to glance back
and he saw that the man held a drawn pistol on his thigh. He wondered at
such extreme precautions, and the ominous feeling increased.

"Now, lads," said Robertson to his men, "don't make no more noise than
you can help. There ain't much chance that any Yankee scoutin' party
will be out, but if there should be one we don't want to run into it.
An' as for you, Mr. Mason, you're a nice boy. We all can see that, but
just as shore as you let go with a yell or anything like it at any time
or under any circumstances, you'll be dead the next second."

A sudden fierce note rang in his voice, and Dick, despite all his
courage, shuddered. He felt as if a nameless terror all at once
threatened not only him, but others. His lips and mouth were dry.

Robertson spoke softly to his horse, and then rode slowly forward
through the deep forest. The others rode with him, never breaking their
compact formation, and preserving the utmost silence. Dick did not ask
another question. Talk and fellowship were over. Everything before him
now was grim and menacing.

The dense woods and the darkness hid them so securely that they could
not have been seen twenty yards away, but the men rode on at a sure
pace, as if they knew the ground well. The silence was deep and intense,
save for the footsteps of the horses and now and then a night bird in
the tall trees calling.

Before they had gone far a man stepped from a thicket and held up a
rifle.

"Four men from the Orphan Brigade with a prisoner," said Robertson.

"Advance with the prisoner," said the picket,