ave to. The alarm will have gone out. I'm bettin' there're
patrols thick on that road."

"Any blue bellies travelin' theah now are gonna be bunched an' ready to
shoot at anything movin'."

"So," Croff cut in over Webb's instant objection, "you get some Yankees
a-hittin' it up after you, and you run for here. They're not all dumb
enough to ride right into this kind of country."

"We'll have to work it so they'll keep comin'. When you see them headin'
into the gorge after us, you move out of the sentry posts back across
this ridge and start cuttin' this camp down to size--pick off those
horses and put 'em afoot. That'll keep them here till the Yankees come."

"You know," Kirby said, "it's jus' crazy enough to work. Lordy--if it
was summer, I'd say we all had our brains sun-cured, but I'm willin' to
try it. Who does what?"

"Croff and Webb'll take out the sentries. We'll go hunt us up some
Yankees." As Kirby said, it was a wild plan anchored here and there on
chance alone. But the scouts were familiar with action as rash as this,
which _had_ worked. And they still had a few hours of daylight left in
which to try it.

They let a supply train go by on the road undisturbed. It was, Drew
noted, well guarded and the guard paid special attention to the woods
and fields flanking them. The word had certainly gone out to expect dire
trouble along that section of countryside.

"Have to be kinda hopin' for the right-sized herd," Kirby observed.
"Need a nice patrol. Too bad we ain't able to rope in, to order, jus'
what we need."

He went to a post farther south along the pike, and Drew settled
himself in his own patch of cover, with Hannibal close at hand. The
passing of time was a fret, but one they were used to. Drew thought over
the plan. Improvisation always had to play a large part in such a
project, but he believed they had a chance of success.

A bird note, clear and carrying, broke the silence of the winter
afternoon. Drew cradled the Spencer close to him. That was Kirby's
signal that around the bend he had sighted what they wanted.

It was a patrol, led by a bearded officer with a captain's bars on his
shoulders--quite an impressive turnout, consisting of some thirty men
and two officers. Watching them ride toward him, Drew's mouth went dry,
a shiver ascending his spine. To play fox to this pack of hounds was
going to be more of a task than he had anticipated. But it had to be
done.

He fired, carefully missing