His feet struck against something. It was a man, but he was past all
feeling, and Dick went on, striking by and by against many more. It
was impossible at the moment to see Warner's face, but he began to feel
of the figures with his hands. There was none so long and slender as
Warner's, and he continued his search, moving steadily toward the wood.
He saw presently a lantern moving over the field, and he walked toward
it. Three men were with the lantern, and the one who carried it held it
up as he approached. The beams fell directly upon Dick, revealing his
pale face and torn and dusty uniform.
"What do you want, Yank?" called the man.
"I'm looking for a friend of mine who must have fallen somewhere near
here."
The man laughed, but it was not a laugh of joy or irony. It was a laugh
of pity and sadness.
"You've shorely got a big look comin'," he said. "They're scattered all
around here, coverin' acres an' acres, just like dead leaves shook by a
storm from the trees. But j'in us, Yank. You can't do nothin' in the
darkness all by yourself. We're Johnny Rebs, good and true, and I may be
shootin' straight at you to-morrow mornin', but I reckon I've got nothin'
ag'in you now.
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