He would be helpless
against an enemy. Then he laughed at the idea. Surely enemies would not
be in search of him at such a time and such a place.
Nevertheless when he saw an open space in front of him he paused at its
edge. He could see well enough here to notice a file of dim figures
riding slowly by. At first his heart leaped up with the belief that they
were Colonel Winchester and his own people, but they were going in the
wrong direction, and then he was able to discern the bedraggled and faded
Confederate gray.
The horsemen were about fifty in number and most of them rode with the
reins hanging loose on their horses' necks. They were wrapped in cloaks,
but cloaks and uniforms alike were sodden. A stream of water ran from
every stirrup to the ground.
Dick looked at them attentively. Near the head of the column but on
one side rode a soldierly figure, apparently that of a young man of
twenty-three or four. Just behind came three youths, and Dick's heart
fairly leaped when he saw the last of the three. He could not mistake
the figure, and a turning of the head caused him to catch a faint glimpse
of the face.
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