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"I've been awake for forty-eight hours, Major. But--oh, I'm not sleepy."

"Yes, General." "If I give you a good fresh horse can you go twenty-three miles more by midnight?"

"Lieutenant Ferry is not sending me to any house."

I stepped back, heaving. "Who and what are you? Who and what are you?"

"Is it so dangerous?"

"You sa-ay 'Whah is it?'--ow batt'ry"--he champed noisily--"I dunno. Does you? Whah is it?"

The dwelling was entirely dark. I came close in the bright moonlight and hallooed. At my second hail the door came a small way open, and after a brief parley a man's voice bade me put up my horse and come in. The stable was a few steps to the right and rear. Returning, I took care to notice the form of the house: a hall from front to rear; one front and one rear room on each side of it; above the whole a low attic, probably occupied by the slave housemaids.

The discussion warmed and I began to catch words and meanings. Oftenest they were old Lucius Oliver's, whose bad temper made him incautious. While his son and the other two jayhawkers obstinately pressed their scheme he kept saying, sourly, "That's--not--our--wa-ay!"

About mid-afternoon I awoke from deep sleep on a bed of sand in the roasting shade of a cottonwood jungle. A corporal was shaking me and whispering "Make no noise; mount and fall in."

He was amused. "Go if you want; but be quick; here they come already, a small bunch of them."

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