e would soon be in his old home
again. Ten or fifteen minutes more, and he would see the solid red
brick house rising among the clipped pines. But as he passed the
junction of a small road coming down from the hills, his attentive ear
gave warning. He heard the sound of hoofs and many of them. He drew
in for a moment under the boughs and listened.

Harry's instinct warned him against the troop of men that he heard.
Collins, the liveryman, had told him that the country was full of
trouble. This region was neither North nor South. It was debatable
land, of which raiding bands would take full advantage, and, despite the
risk, he wished to know what was on foot. He was almost invisible under
the boughs of a great oak which hung over the road, and the horse,
after so many miles of hard riding, was willing enough to stand still.
The rain swished in his face and the leaves gave forth a chilly rustle,
but he held himself firmly to his task.

The hoofbeats came nearer and then ceased. The horsemen stopped at
the point, where the narrower road merged into the larger and, as they
were clear of the foliage, Harry caught a view of them. There was no
moonlight, but his eyes had grown so well used to the darkness that he
was able to recognize Skelly, who was in advance, an old army rifle
across his saddle bow. Behind him were at least fifty men, and Harry
knew they were all mountaineers. They rode the scrubby mountain horses,
more like ponies, and every man carried a rifle.

Harry divined instantly that they had come down from the hills to make a
raid upon the Confederate stronghold, Pendleton. War was on, and here
was their chance to take revenge upon the more civilized people of the
lowlands. Skelly was giving his final orders and Harry could hear him.

"We'll leave the main road, pull down the fences an' ride across the
fields," he said. "We'll first take the house of that rebel and traitor,
Colonel Kenton. It'll be helpin' the cause if we burn it clean down to
the ground. If anybody tries to stop you, shoot. Then we'll go on to
the others."

A growl of approval came from the men, and some shook their rifles as a
sign of what they would do. Harry knew them. Mostly moonshiners and
fugitives from justice, they cared far more for revenge and spoil than
for the Union. He shuddered as he heard their talk. His own home was
to be their first point of attack, and those who resisted were to be
shot down.

He wait