he place where they had left Willy, while the others followed
after with the horses.

"I can walk," said Frank.

"No, I'll carry you, b-bless your heart!"

The boy did not know that the big dragoon was looking down at the
light hair resting on his arm, and that while he trod the Virginia
wood-path, in fancy he was home in Delaware; or that the pressure the
boy felt from his strong arms, was a caress given for the sake of
another boy far away on the Brandywine. A little while before they
came in sight Frank asked to be put down.

The soldier gently set him on his feet, and before he let him go
kissed him.

"I've got a curly-headed fellow at home, just the size of you," he
said softly.

Frank saw that his eyes were moist. "I hope you'll get safe back to
him," he said.

"God grant it!" said the soldier.

When they reached the squad at the gate, they found Willy still in
much distress on Frank's account; but he wiped his eyes when his
brother reappeared, and listened with pride to the soldiers' praise
of Frank's "grit," as they called it. When they let the boys go, the
little corporal wished Frank to accept a five-dollar gold piece; but
he politely declined it.

CHAPTER XVII.

The story of Frank's adventure and courage was the talk of all the
Oakland plantation. His mother and Cousin Belle both kissed him, and
called him their little hero. Willy also received a full share of
praise for his courage.

About noon there was great commotion among the troops. They were far
more numerous than they had been in the morning, and instead of riding
about the woods in small bodies, hunting for the concealed soldiers,
they were collecting together and preparing to move.

It was learned that a considerable body of cavalry was passing down
the road by Trinity Church, and that the depot had been burnt again
the night before. Somehow, a rumor got about that the Confederates
were following up the raiders.

In an hour most of the soldiers went away, but a number still stayed
on. Their horses were picketed about the yard feeding; and they
themselves lounged around, making themselves at home in the house, and
pulling to pieces the things that were left. They were not, however,
as wanton in their destruction as the first set, who had passed by the
year before.

Among those who yet remained were the little corporal, and the big
young soldier who had been so kind to Frank. They were in the
rear-guard. At length the last