hand out of her father's
grasp and standing suddenly petrified with the thought that she had left
behind her one beloved possession.

"Here's the spring, Smith--under the rock. Fill up the canteens. Here,
Harry, help me get fire wood."

With a soldier's readiness when it comes to making camp one of the
troopers promptly collected the canteens and knelt down by the spring,
carefully submerging one at a time so as to get the sweet, cold water in
all its purity. Another opened the knapsacks and took out a can of
coffee, biscuits and some scraps of meat--not much with which to make a
meal but still so much more than many a Rebel soldier had that day as to
take on the proportions of a feast. Meanwhile, Corporal Dudley had drawn
his saber and was engaged in leisurely lopping off the dead branches of
a fallen tree.

"This strikes me a lot better than the camp," he remarked as he tossed
his firewood into a heap. "A man and his friends can have a quiet drink
here, without treating a whole battalion."

His eye fell on the ground near the spring as he spoke and he paused.
Then, with a grin on his face, he jabbed his saber into something which
lay there and held it transfixed on the point.

"Say, boys--look at this," and he shook poor Susan Jemima till her arms
and legs wiggled spasmodically and her dress seemed on the point of
complete disintegration.

Perhaps, if Corporal Dudley had not laughed derisively Virgie might have
stayed hidden in the protection of the trees, but this outrageous
insult combined with the terrible sight of poor Susan Jemima impaled on
a Yankee sword was too much for her bursting heart. With blazing eyes
she broke away from her father and dashed back to the group at the
spring.

"Here, you! You stop that," she cried angrily at the astonished
troopers, who caught up their carbines at the sound of feet. "_How dare
you!_"

There was a moment of surprise and then the four broke out in guffaws of
laughter.

"Well, hang me if it isn't the little girl we saw this morning," shouted
Dudley, without, however, stopping the torture of the defenseless Susan
Jemima. "Where did _you_ drop from?"

"Ne'm min' where I dropped from," commanded the wrathful Virgie with her
dark eyes like twin stars of hate. "You're the meanest old thing I ever
saw. _Give me back my baby!_"

Back in the trees a little way a man was watching with a heavy heart. He
knew only too well what was to come. No matter what the final outc