I'm back to one hundred and fifty
now. Besides, I was fifty years old when I entered the stream, and I've
returned to twenty."
"That just about describes me, too, but the colonel is whistling for us
to come. Rush your jacket on and jump for your horse."
They had stayed about a half-hour at the creek, and about two o'clock in
the morning Powell and May led them through a dense wood to the edge of a
high hill.
"There's Frankfort below you," said May in a voice that trembled.
The night was brilliant, almost like day, and they saw the little city
clustered along the banks of the Kentucky which flowed, a dark ribbon of
blue. Their powerful glasses brought out everything distinctly. They
saw the old state house, its trees, and in the open spaces, tents
standing by the dozens and scores. It was the division of Kirby Smith
that occupied the town, and Bragg himself had made a triumphant entry.
Dick wondered which house sheltered him. It was undoubtedly that of
some prominent citizen, proud of the honor.
"Isn't it the snuggest and sweetest little place you ever saw?" said May.
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