kon you tell the truth, young feller," she said, "but it's good to
see 'em go at it."

She passed on to help others, and Dick, summoned by Colonel Newcomb,
went into a little railroad and telegraph station. The telegraph wires
had been cut behind them, but ten miles across the mountains the spur of
another railroad touched a valley. The second railroad looped toward
the north, and it was absolutely sure that it was beyond the reach
of Southern raiders. Colonel Newcomb wished to send a message to the
Secretary of War and the President, telling of the night's events and
his triumphant passage through the ordeal. These circumstances might
make them wish to change his orders, and at any rate the commander of
the regiment wished to be sure of what he was doing.

"You're a Kentuckian and a good horseman," said Colonel Newcomb to Dick.
"The villagers have sent me a trusty man, one Bill Petty, as a guide.
Take Sergeant Whitley and you three go to the station. I've already
written my dispatches, and I put them in your care. Have them sent at
once, and if necessary wait four hours for an answer. If it comes, ride
back as fast as you can. The horses are ready and I rely upon you."

"Thank you, sir, I'll do my best," said Dick, who deeply appreciated the
colonel's confidence. He wasted no time in words, but went at once to
Sergeant Whitley, who was ready in five minutes. Warner, who heard of
the mission, was disappointed because he was not going too. But he was
philosophical.

"I've made a close calculation," he said, "and I have demonstrated to
my own satisfaction that our opportunities are sixty per cent energy and
ability, twenty per cent manners, and twenty per cent chance. In this
case chance, which made the Colonel better acquainted with you than
with me, was in your favor. We won't discuss the other eighty per cent,
because this twenty is enough. Besides it looks pretty cold on the
mountains, and its fine here in the village. But luck with you, Dick."

He gave his comrade's hand a strong grasp and walked away toward the
little square of the village, where the troops were encamped for the
present. Dick sprang upon a horse which Bill Petty was holding for him.
Whitley was already up, and the three rode swiftly toward a blue line
which marked a cleft between two ridges. Dick first observed their
guide. Bill Petty was a short but very stout man, clad in a suit of
home-made blue jeans, the trousers of which were thrust into h