er felt the beat of the rain.

A mile or two further and in the swish of the storm he heard hoofbeats
again. Looking forth from the bushes he saw another line of horsemen,
but now they were going in the direction of Pope's army. Dick recognized
these figures. Shapeless as he might appear on his horse that was
Colonel Winchester, and there were the broad shoulders of Sergeant
Whitley and the figures of the others.

He rushed through the dripping forest and shouted in a tone that
could be heard above the shriek of wind and rain. Colonel Winchester
recognized the voice, but the light was so dim that he did not recognize
him from whom it came. Certainly the figure that emerged from the forest
did not look human.

"Colonel," cried Dick, "it is I, Richard Mason, whom you left behind!"

"So it is," said Sergeant Whitley, keener of eye than the others.

The whole troop set up a shout as Dick came forward, taking off his
dripping cap.

"Why, Dick, it is you!" exclaimed Colonel Winchester in a tone of
immeasurable relief. "We missed you and your horse and hoped that you
were somewhere ahead. Your horse must have broken loose in the storm.
But here, you look as if you were nearly dead! Jump up behind me!"

Dick made an effort, but his strength failed and he slipped back to
the ground. He had not realized that he was walking on his spirit and
courage and that his strength was gone, so powerful had been the buffets
of the wind and rain.

The colonel reached down, gave him a hand and a strong pull, and with
a second effort Dick landed astride the horse behind the rider. Then
Colonel Winchester gave the word and the sodden file wound on again.

"Dick," said the colonel, looking back over his shoulder, "you come as
near being a wreck as anything that I've seen in a long time. It's lucky
we found you."

"It is, sir, and I not only look like a wreck but I feel like one. But
I had made up my mind to reach General Pope's camp, with the news of the
Confederates crossing, and I think I'd have done it."

"I know you would. But what a night! What a night! Not many men can be
abroad at such a time. We have seen nothing."

"But I have, sir."

"You have! What did you see?"

"A mile or two back I passed a line of Southern horsemen, just as wet
and bedraggled as ours."

"Might they not have been our own men? It would be hard to tell blue and
gray apart on such a night."

"One could make such a mistake, but in this case it was no