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By and by we breakfasted. After which, my precious horse not having finished his corn, I spread my blanket and let myself doze, but was soon awakened by the shouts of my companions laughing at me for laughing so piteously in my sleep.

I made no reply. He looked momentous, leaned to me sidewise with a hand horizontally across his mouth, and whispered a name. It was new to me. "Charlie Toliver?" I murmured, for we were at the tent door.

"Oh, I don't doubt you have; though I didn't know but it might be Charlie Toliver or something."

"Good-morning, Smith, who is your prisoner?"

"You remember the last time the brigade was in this piece of country?" he rejoined.

"No, the doctor said 'plunged,' but--did Ned Fer'--who put that into your head?"

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