Not a fire burned, not a torch
gleamed. The horses were withdrawn so far that stamp or neigh could
not be heard by the Union pickets.
"We'll stop here," said Robertson at length. "As you're a Kentuckian,
I thought it would be pleasanter for you to be handed over to
Kentuckians. The Orphan Brigade to which I belong is layin' on the
ground right in front of us, an' the first regiment is that of Colonel
Kenton. I'll hand you over to him, an'--not 'cause I've got anything
ag'inst you--I'll be mighty glad to do it, too, 'cause my back is
already nigh breakin' with the responsibility."
Dick started violently.
"What's hit you?" asked Robertson.
"Oh, nothing. You see, I'm nervous."
"You ain't tellin' the truth. But I don't blame you an' it don't matter
anyway. Here we are. Jump down."
Dick sprang to the ground, and the others followed. While they held
the reins they stood in a close circle about him. He had about as much
chance of escape as he had of flying.
Robertson walked forward, saluted some one who stood up in the dark,
and said a few words in a low tone.
"Bring him forward," said a clear voice, which Dick recognized at once.
The little group of men opened out and Dick, stepping forth, met his
uncle face to face. It was now the time of Colonel George Kenton to
start violently.
"My God! You, Dick!" he exclaimed. "How did you come here?"
"I didn't come," replied the boy, who was now feeling more at ease.
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