are very tired, and one of the sentinels will conduct you to your
tents."

"I think Lieutenant Lyon had better see Dr. Farnwright before he goes
to sleep," said Life.

"Is he wounded?" asked the general, with interest and anxiety.

"Only slightly. We had a skrimmage with half a dozen deserters from the
enemy, and licked 'em handsome," added Life.

The officers were shown to their tents, and the surgeon sent for. The
wound was carefully dressed, and the doctor said it would be well in
three days. He slept soundly after the long and hard journey; and the
surgeon had ordered him to remain in his tent if the brigade did not
march in the morning, which it did not. The first persons to call upon
him were his father and his brother.

"Where have you been, Dexter?" asked Major Lyon, after his wound had
been considered. "I did not know you had been absent till this morning,
though I missed Lieutenant Knox when I saw Sergeant Fronklyn at the
head of his platoon."

"Life and I have been away on secret service; and for further
particulars you must apply to General Woodbine," replied Deck with a
meaning smile.

"I shall not apply to the general," added the major. "I am glad your
wound is no worse; and I hope your new duties on the staff will be
agreeable to you."

"I know they will, especially if I get my share of the fighting,"
answered Deck.

But the story of this campaign of the Riverlawn Cavalry, ending with
the decisive battle of Mill Springs, is completed. Deck Lyon has won
and obtained his promotion, and has entered upon a new sphere of duty,
in which his bravery, skill, and enterprise enabled him to distinguish
himself.

Before noon a messenger, escorted by a squad of cavalrymen, arrived at
the camp with sealed orders for General Woodbine, and bearing a large
bag of letters for the officers and soldiers. There were several for
Major Lyon and for his two sons. They were from home; and everything at
Riverlawn was quiet and prosperous, with no evidences of war near the
family.

Levi Bedford kept a watch every night at the fort named after him, and
the fifty-one negroes were as tractable as usual. A number of them had
been drilled for service in case of need, but fortunately there had
been no occasion for their services. Through his sister Dorcas, Kate
Belthorpe sent her regards to Deck, and he had something to think of as
he sat in his tent.

Among the major's letters was one which had been forwarded from his