rm, kehplunk.
And they pasted me thar, too. Curious. And Sim yere, he didn't get
nothing, but they chased us all quite a little piece, and we done lose
track of our boys."

"Was it--was it those who passed here just now? Did they chase you?"

The men in gray laughed again. "What--them? No, indeedee! There was a
mighty big swarm of Yanks and a mighty big swarm of our boys, too.
What--that little passel? No, m'm."

She became calm enough to scan them more attentively. They were much
begrimed and very dusty. Their gray clothes were tattered. Splashed mud
had dried upon them in reddish spots. It appeared, too, that the men had
not shaved in many days. In the hats there was a singular diversity. One
soldier wore the little blue cap of the Northern infantry, with corps
emblem and regimental number; one wore a great slouch hat with a wide
hole in the crown; and the other wore no hat at all. The left sleeve of
one man and the right sleeve of another had been slit and the arms were
neatly bandaged with clean cloth. "These hain't no more than two little
cuts," explained one. "We stopped up yere to Mis' Leavitts--she said her
name was--and she bind them for us. Bill yere, he had the thirst come on
him. And the fever too. We----"

"Did you ever see my father in the army?" asked Mary. "John
Hinckson--his name is."

The three soldiers grinned again, but they replied kindly: "No, m'm. No,
m'm, we hain't never. What is he--in the cavalry?"

"No," said the girl. "He and my uncle Asa and my cousin--his name is
Bill Parker--they are all with Longstreet--they call him."

"Oh," said the soldiers. "Longstreet? Oh, they're a good smart ways from
yere. 'Way off up nawtheast. There hain't nothing but cavalry down yere.
They're in the infantry, probably."

"We haven't heard anything from them for days and days," said Mary.

"Oh, they're all right in the infantry," said one man, to be consoling.
"The infantry don't do much fighting. They go bellering out in a big
swarm and only a few of 'em get hurt. But if they was in the
cavalry--the cavalry----"

Mary interrupted him without intention. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

The soldiers looked at each other, struck by some sudden and singular
shame. They hung their heads. "No, m'm," replied one at last.

Santo, in his stall, was tranquilly chewing and chewing. Sometimes he
looked benevolently over at them. He was an old horse and there was
something about his eyes and his forelock which c