They got
as far as D'ri.

"Halt! Who comes there?" he demanded.

"Grand rounds," was the answer of the captain.

"Lay down yer arms," said D'ri, "an" come up here 'n' set down."

"Haven't time," said the captain, failing at first to grasp the
situation.

"You tek time, er I 'll put a hole 'n yer jacket," said D'ri.

One of the privates turned quickly and ran. D'ri sent a shot after
him, that only grazed a leg, and he kept on. Then D'ri gave all
attention to his new prisoners. They could see no amusement in
dodging bullets; they threw their arms on the side-hill and sat
down with the others.

The captain swore as he submitted,

"Don't rile yerself," said D'ri; "you need rest."

"No, I don't, nuther," said the captain.

"Ye'll hev t' hev it, anyway," said D'ri.

"This beats h--!" the captain answered, with a laugh.

A feeling of alarm began to spread. The adjutant was standing in a
group of men at headquarters soon after midnight. They were ears
under in the mystery. The escaped soldier came running toward them
out of the dark. He was breathing heavily; his leg was bleeding
and sore.

"Wall, what is it?" the adjutant demanded.

"D'ri!" the man gasped, and dropped down exhausted.

"D'ri?" the officer inquired.

"D'ri!" the man repeated. "It's thet air man they call D'ri. He's
roped in everybody thet come his way. They 're all settin' on the
hill up there beside him. Won't let a man move when he gits him."

The adjutant snickered as he spat an oath. He was made of iron,
that man Church.

"Post a guard around him," said he, turning to an officer. "The
dem fool 'd tek the hull garrison ef we did n't. I 'll go 'n' try
t' pull him off his perch."

"He 'll lay ye up," said the returned private, baring his bloody
leg. "Eff ye try t' fool with him ye'll limp. See what he done t'
me."

The adjutant swore again.

"Go t' the hospital," he commanded.

Then he strode away, but he did not return that night.

The moon was shining as the adjutant came, in sight and hailed the
group of prisoners.

"What ye settin' there fer?" he shouted.

"You 'll know 'n a minute," said one of them.

"Halt! Who comes there?" D'ri demanded.

"Friend with--"

"Don't ye purten' t' be my friend," D'ri answered. "'T won't work.
Come up here 'n' set down."

"Stop foolin', man," said the adjutant.

"I ain't a-foolin'."

"He ain't a-foolin'; he means business," said one of the prisoners.

"Don't ye