"Lend me your glasses a minute, please, Dick."
Dick handed them to him, and May took a long look, Dick noticed that the
glasses remained directed toward a house among some trees near the river.
"You're looking at your home, are you not?" he asked.
"I surely am. It's that cottage among the oaks. It's bigger than it
looks from here. Front porch and back porch, too. You go from the back
porch straight down to the river. I've swum across the Kentucky there at
night many and many a time. My father and mother are sure to be there
now, staying inside with the doors closed, because they're red hot for
the Union. Farther up the street, the low red brick house with the iron
fence around the yard is Jim Powell's home. You don't mind letting Jim
have a look through the glasses, do you?"
"Of course not."
The glasses were handed in turn to Powell, who, as May had done, took a
long, long look. He made no comment, when he gave the glasses back to
Dick, merely saying: "Thank you." But Dick knew that Powell was deeply
moved.
"It may be, lads," said Colonel Winchester, "that you will be able to
enter your homes by the front doors in a day or two.
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