The terrible field of the Second Manassas was
behind him and forgotten for the time. They rode now to a new battle and
to victory.
Another great cloud of dust like that at Manassas rolled slowly on toward
the little river or creek of Antietam, but the heat was not so great now.
A pleasant breeze blew from the distant western mountains and cooled the
faces of the soldiers. The country through which they were passing was
old for America. They saw a carefully cultivated soil, good roads and
stone bridges.
None of the lads and young men around Colonel Winchester rejoiced more
than Warner. Released from the hospital and with his tried comrades once
more he felt as if he were the dead come back. He was in time, too,
for the great battle which was to end the war. The cool wind that blew
upon his face tingled with life and made his pulses leap. Beneath the
granite of his nature and a phlegmatic exterior, he concealed a warm
heart that always beat steadfastly for his friends and his country.
"Dick," he said, "have they heard anything directly from Harper's Ferry?"
"Not a word, at least none that I've heard about, but it's quite sure
that Jackson hasn't taken the place yet.
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