forms
rode forward and ordered him to halt. Harry obeyed promptly.

"Where are you going?" asked the leading man, a minor officer.

"To Washin'ton," replied the boy in the uncouth language that he thought
fitted his role.

"And what are you going to Washington for?"

"To sell this hoss," replied Harry, on the impulse of the moment.
"I raised him myself, but he's too fine fur me to ride, specially when
hosses are bringin' sech good prices."

"He is a fine animal," said the officer, looking at him longingly.
"Do you want to sell him now?"

Harry shook his head.

"No," he replied. "I'm goin' to make one o' them big bugs in Washin'ton
pay fur him an' pay fur him good."

The officer laughed.

"You're not such a simpleton as you look," he said. "You're right.
They'll pay you more for him in the capital than I could. Ride on.
They may pass you over Long Bridge or they may not. That part of it
is not my business."

Harry went forward at a trot, glad enough to leave such dangerous
company behind. But he saw that he was now in the very thick of mighty
risks. He would encounter a menace at every turn. Had he realized
fully the character of his undertaking when he was in the charcoal
burner's hut he would have hesitated long. Now, there was nothing to
do but go ahead and take his fate, whatever it might be.

Yet his tale of wishing to sell a horse served him well. After a few
questions, it passed him by a half dozen interruptions, and he became so
bold that he stopped and bought food for his noon-day meal at a little
wayside tavern kept by a woman. Three or four countrymen were lounging
about and all of them were gossips. But Harry found it worth while to
listen to their gossip. It was their business to carry vegetables and
other provisions into Washington for sale and they picked up much news.
They said that the Northern government was pushing all its troops to the
front. All the politicians and writers in Washington were clamoring for
a battle. One blow and "Jeff Davis and Secession" would be smashed to
atoms. Harry's young blood flamed at the contemptuous words, but he
could not afford to show any resentment. Yet this was valuable
information. He could confirm Beauregard's belief that an attack would
soon be made in great force.

When Harry left them he turned again to the left, as he saw a stretch of
country rolling and apparently wooded lying in that direction. Once,
when a young boy, he had