hing. He had gained rather. The time
had passed. His body had been strengthened and his nerves steadied while
he slept.

The distant booming of the guns still came. He had expected it. That was
Grant. He had wrapped the coil of steel around Vicksburg and he would
never relax. Dick felt that there was no hope for the town, unless
Johnston outside could gather a powerful army and fight Grant on even
terms. But he considered it impossible, and there, too, was the great
artery of the river along which flowed men and supplies of every kind
for the Union.

The Southern twilight turned swiftly into night and, coming from his
lair, Dick walked boldly toward the town. He had eaten nothing since
morning, but he had not noticed it, until this moment, when he began to
feel a little faintness. He resolved that Vicksburg should supply him.
It was curious how much help he expected of Vicksburg, a hostile town.

He saw lights soon both to right and to left and he strengthened his
soul. He knew that he must be calm, but alert and quick with the right
answer. With his singular capacity for meeting a crisis he advanced into
the thick of danger with a smiling face, even as his great ancestor,
Paul Cotter, had often done.

His calm was of short duration. There was a rushing sound, something
struck violently, and a tremendous explosion followed. Fire flashed
before Dick's eyes, pieces of red hot metal whistled past his head,
earth spattered him and he was thrown to the ground.

He sprang up again, understanding all instantly. A shell from his own
army had burst near him, and he had been thrown down by the concussion.
But he had not been hurt, and in a few seconds his pulse beat steadily.

He heard a shout of laughter as he stood, brushing the fresh dirt from
his clothing. He glanced up in some anger, but he saw at once that the
arrival of the shell had been most fortunate for his plan. To come near
annihilation by a Federal gun certainly invested him with a Confederate
character.

It was a group of young soldiers who were laughing and their amusement
was entirely good-natured. They would have laughed the same way had the
harmless adventure befallen one of their own number. Dick judged that
they were from the Southwest.

"Close call," he said, smiling that attractive smile, which was visible
even in the twilight.

"It was a friendly shell," said one of the youths, "and it concluded
not to come too close to you. These Yankee shells