When Colonel Winchester and the boy had saluted and retired from General
Grant's tent they saw the smoke pouring from the funnels of numerous
steamers in the Mississippi, and they saw thousands of troops encamped
in tents along the shores of both the Ohio and Mississippi. Heavy
cannon were drawn up on the wharves, and ammunition and supplies were
being transferred from hundreds of wagons to the steamers. It was
evident to any one that this expedition, whatever it might be, was to
proceed by water. It was a land of mighty rivers, close together,
and a steamer might go anywhere.
As Dick and Colonel Winchester, on whose staff he would now be, were
watching this active scene, a small steamer, coming down the Ohio,
drew in to a wharf, and a number of soldiers in faded blue disembarked.
The boy uttered a shout of joy.
"What is it, Dick?" asked Colonel Winchester.
"Why, sir, there's my former commander, Colonel Newcomb, and just behind
him is my comrade, Lieutenant George Warner of Vermont, and not far away
is Sergeant Whitley, late of the regular army, one of the best soldiers
in the world. Can I greet them, colonel?"
"Of course."
Dick rushed forward and saluted Colonel Newcomb, who grasped him warmly
by the hand.
"So you got safely through, my lad," he said. "Major Hertford, who came
down the Kentucky with his detachment and joined us at Carrollton at the
mouth of that river, told us of your mission.
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