e men on both sides don't yet realize fully that they are here to
shoot at one another. This is our place, along a little brook, another
tributary of the Manassas."

They stopped in a grove and disposed the men, twenty in number, along
a line of several hundred yards, with instructions not to fire unless
they knew positively what they were shooting at. Harry and St. Clair
remained near the middle of the line, at the edge of the brook, where
they sat down on the bank. The country was open in front of them,
and Harry saw a distant light.

"What's that?" he asked.

"The campfire of a Yankee outpost. I told you they were very near."

"And that, I suppose, is one of their bugles."

A faint but musical note was brought to them by the light wind blowing
in their faces.

"That's what it is. It may be the signal of some movement, but they
can't attempt anything serious without showing themselves. Our
sentinels are posted along here for miles."

The sound of the bugle continued faint and far away. It had a certain
weird effect in the night and the loneliness. Harry wished to know who
they were at that far campfire. His own cousin, Dick Mason, might be
there.

"Although we're arrayed for war," said St. Clair, "the sentinels are
often friendly. They even exchange plugs of tobacco and news. The
officers have not been able to stop it wholly. Our sentinels tell
theirs that we'll be in Washington in a month, and theirs tell ours
that they've already engaged rooms in the Richmond hotels for July."

"When two prophets disagree both can't be right," said Harry. "How far
away would you say that light is, Arthur?"

"About a mile and a half. Let's scout a little in that direction.
There are no commands against it. Enterprise is encouraged."

"Just what I'd like," said Harry, who was eager for action.

Leaving their own men under the command of a reliable sergeant named
Carrick, the two youths crossed the brook and advanced over a fairly
level stretch of country toward the fire. Small clusters of trees were
scattered here and there, and beyond them was a field of young corn.
The two paused in one of the little groves about a hundred yards from
their own outposts and looked back. They saw only the dark line of
the trees, and behind them, wavering lights which they knew were the
campfires of their own army. But the lights at the distance were very
small, mere pin points.

"They look more like lanterns carried b