"
Harry's face glowed with enthusiasm as he spoke of his hero, and Dick,
looking at him, shook his head sadly.
"I'm afraid that what you say is true for the present at least, Harry,"
he said. "You beat us now here in the east, but don't forget that we're
winning in the west. And don't forget that here in the east even,
you can never wear us out. We'll be coming, always coming."
"All right, old Sober Sides, we won't quarrel about it. We'll let time
settle it. Here come some friends of mine whom I want you to know.
Curious that you should meet them at such a time."
Two other young lieutenants in gray uniforms at the head of burial
parties came near in the course of their work, and Harry called to them.
"Tom! Arthur! A moment, please! This is my cousin, Dick Mason, a
Yankee, though I think he's honest in his folly. Dick, this is Arthur
St. Clair, and this is Tom Langdon, both friends of mine from South
Carolina."
They shook hands warmly. There was no animosity between them. Dick
liked the looks and manners of Harry's friends. He could have been their
friend, too.
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