a loss.

"That was certainly close," gasped St. Clair. "I'm not going on any
more scouts unless I'm ordered to do so."

"Nor I," said Harry. "I've got enough for one night at least. I
suppose I'll never forget those men with the red bags in place of
breeches, and that tune, 'Dixie.' As soon as I get my breath back I'm
going to make a bee line for our own army."

"And when you make your bee line another just as fast and straight will
run beside it."

They rested five minutes and then fled for the brook and their own
little detachment behind it.

CHAPTER XII

THE FIGHT FOR THE FORT

Before they reached the brook they hailed Sergeant Carrick lest they
should be fired upon as enemies, and when his answer came they dropped
into a walk, still panting and wiping the perspiration from damp
foreheads. They bathed their faces freely in the brook, and sat down on
the bank to rest. The sergeant, a regular and a veteran of many border
campaigns against the Indians, regarded them benevolently.

"I heard firing in front," he said, "and I thought you might be
concerned in it. If it hadn't been for my orders I'd have come forward
with some of the men."

"Sergeant," said St. Clair, "if you were in the west again, and you were
all alone in the hills or on the plains and a band of yelling Sioux
or Blackfeet were to set after you with fell designs upon your scalp,
what would you do?"

"I'd run, sir, with all my might. I'd run faster than I ever ran
before. I'd run so fast, sir, that my feet wouldn't touch the ground
more than once every forty yards. It would be the wisest thing one
could do under the circumstances, the only thing, in fact."

"I'm glad to hear you say so, Sergeant Carrick, because you are a man of
experience and magnificent sense. What you say proves that Harry and I
are full of wisdom. They weren't Sioux or Blackfeet back there and I
don't suppose they'd have scalped us, but they were Yankees and their
intentions weren't exactly peaceful. So we took your advice before you
gave it. If you'll examine the earth out there tomorrow you'll find our
footprints only five times to the mile."

Far to the right and left other scattering shots had been fired, where
skirmishers in the night came in touch with one another. Hence the
adventure of Harry and St. Clair attracted but little attention.
Shots at long range were fired nearly every night, and sometimes it was
difficult to keep the raw recrui