--a Yankee
soldier?

I know his face and I know his name.

I must hunt this thought down.

Is it that I have heard this story? Not in my present time of
experience. Is it that Willis was made prisoner that day--he and his
companion, there in the woods? It might have been so.

But did I not see the strange man break his gun and go away from the
spot? He was not captured.

Yet I may have been hidden in the woods near by, watching these two men.
I must try to remember whether I saw what became of them.

Then I imagine myself hidden behind a log. I watch the strange man; he
binds up Willis's leg. I see him help the sergeant--there! again a
thought--Willis was a sergeant. Why could I not see that before--with
the stripes on his arm? Of course hidden near by I could see that Willis
was a sergeant; but how could I know that his name was Willis? Possibly
I heard the strange man call him Jake--So! again it comes. I have the
full name.

But I must follow them if I can. The strange man helps Willis to rise,
and puts his gun under the sergeant's shoulder for a crutch, and helps
him on the other side. They begin to move, but Willis drops the gun, for
it sinks into the soft ground, and is useless. Then the strange man
breaks his gun and the two go away. I see them moving slowly through the
woods--but strange! they are no farther from me than before. I must have
really followed them that day. They go on and get into the creek, and
climb with difficulty the farther bank, and rest. Again they start--they
reach a stubble field; I see some straw stacks; the strange man kneels
by one of the stacks and works a hollow; he tells Willis to lie down;
then he speaks to Willis again, and I can hear every word he says: he
tells Willis to go to sleep; that he will try to get help; that if he
does not return by noon to-morrow, Willis must look out for
himself--maybe he'd better surrender. And Willis says, "God bless
you, Jones."

And now I have the man's name, Jones--a name common enough.

I must hunt this Jones down--where have I known a Jones? But I must not
now be diverted by him; I must stick to Willis.

Then I watch Willis, but only for an instant; I feel entrained by Jones,
and I go with Jones even though I want to see what becomes of Willis.

It gets dark, yet I can see Jones. He goes rapidly, though I feel that
he is weary. He stands on a narrow road, and I hear sounds of rattling
harness, and he sees a wagon moving. He stops a