"
A sudden spatter of rifle fire came from the direction of the Northern
pickets.
"Them sentinels of yours have funny habits," said Robertson grinning.
"Just bound to hear their guns go off. They're changin' the guard now."
"How do you know that?" asked Dick.
"Oh, I know a heap. I'm a terrible wise man, but bein' so wise I don't
tell all I know or how I happen to know it. Hop up, sonny."
"Don't you think I'll be a lot of trouble to you," said Dick, "riding
behind you thirty or forty miles to your camp?"
The four men exchanged glances, and no one answered. The boy felt a
sudden chill, and his hair prickled at the roots. He did not know what
had caused it, but surely it was a sign of some danger.
The night deepened steadily as they were talking. The twilight had gone
long since. The last afterglow had faded. The darkness was heavy with
warmth. The thick foliage of spring rustled gently. Dick's sensation
that something unusual was happening did not depart.
The four men, after looking at one another, looked fixedly at Dick.
"Sonny," said Robertson, "you ain't got no call to worry 'bout our
troubles. As I said, this is a good, strong hoss of mine, an' it will
carry us just as far as we go an' no further."
It was an enigmatical reply, and Dick saw that it was useless to ask
them questions. Robertson mounted, and Dick, without another word,
sprang up behind him. Two of the privates rode up close, one on either
side, and the other kept immediately behind.
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