"Good old boy," he said; "the strongest, the swiftest, the bravest,
and the truest. I was sorry to make those red stripes on your sides,
but it had to be done. Only quickness saved us."
The horse neighed. He was still quivering from excitement and exertion.
So was Dick for that matter. The men might have been robbers merely--
they were at least that bad--but they might have deprived him also of
his precious dispatch. He was proud of the confidence put in him by
General Thomas, and he meant to deserve it. It was this sense of
responsibility and pride that had attuned his faculties to so high a
pitch and that had made his action so swift, sudden and decisive.
But he steadied himself presently. The victory, for victory it
certainly was, increased his strength and confidence. He stopped soon
at a brook--they seemed to occur every mile--and bathed with cold water
the red streaks his spurs had made on either side of his horse. Again
he spoke soothing words and regretted the necessity that had caused him
to make such wounds, slight though they were.
He also bathed his own face and hands and, as it was now about noon,
ate of the cold ham and bread that he carried in his knapsack, meanwhile
keeping constant watch on the road over which he had come. But he did
not believe that the men would pursue, and he saw no sign of them.
Mounting again he rode forward.
The remainder of the afternoon went by without interruption.
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