The three boys took especial notice of those cavalry bands and began to
believe at last that they could identify the very men in them. Dick
looked for his cousin, Harry Kenton. He was sure that he would be there
in the front--but he did not see him. Instead he saw after a while an
extraordinary figure on a large black horse, a large man in magnificent
uniform, with a great plume in his hat. He was nearer to them than any
other Southern horseman, and he seemed to be indifferent to danger.
"Look! look! There's Jeb Stuart!" exclaimed Dick. He had heard so
much about the famous Stuart and his gorgeous uniform that he knew him
instinctively, and, Warner and Pennington, as their eyes followed his
pointing finger felt the same conviction.
Three of the Northern riflemen fired at once at the conspicuous target,
and Dick breathed a little sigh of relief when all their bullets missed.
Then the brilliant figure turned to one side and was lost in the smoke.
"Well," said Pennington. "We've seen Stonewall Jackson and Jeb Stuart
both in battle against us. I wonder who will come next.
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