"I got a brother on t'other side."

Dan started. "Why, so have I," he said. "What's your brother with?"

"Wolford's cavalry."

"That's curious. So was mine--for a while. He's with Grant now." The
boy turned his head away suddenly.

"I might meet him, if he were with Wolford now," he said, half to
himself, but Jerry heard him and smiled viciously.

"Well, that's what I'm goin' with you fellers fer--to meet mine."

"What!" said Dan, puzzled.

"We've been lookin' fer each other sence the war broke out. I reckon he
went on t'other side to keep me from killin' him."

Dan shrank away from the giant with horror; but next day the
mountaineer saved the boy's life in a fight in which Dan's
chum--gallant little Tom Morgan--lost his; and that night, as Dan lay
sleepless and crying in his blanket, Jerry Dillon came in from
guard-duty and lay down by him.

"I'm goin' to take keer o' you."

"I don't need you," said Dan, gruffly, and Rebel Jerry grunted, turned
over on his side and went to sleep. Night and day thereafter he was by
the boy's side.

A thrill ran through the entire command when the column struck the
first Bluegrass turnpike, and a cheer rang from front to rear. Near
Midway, a little Bluegrass town some fifteen miles from Lexington, a
halt was called, and another deafening cheer arose in the extreme rear
and came forward like a rushing wind, as a coal-black horse galloped
the length of the column--its rider, hat in hand, bowing with a proud
smile to the flattering storm--for the idolatry of the man and his men
was mutual--with the erect grace of an Indian, the air of a courtier,
and the bearing of a soldier in every line of the six feet and more of
his tireless frame. No man who ever saw John Morgan on horseback but
had the picture stamped forever on his brain, as no man who ever saw
that coal-black horse ever forgot Black Bess. Behind him came his
staff, and behind them came a wizened little man, whose nickname was
"Lightning"--telegraph operator for Morgan's Men. There was need of
Lightning now, so Morgan sent him on into town with Dan and Jerry
Dillon, while he and Richard Hunt followed leisurely.

The three troopers found the station operator seated on the
platform--pipe in mouth, and enjoying himself hugely. He looked lazily
at them.

"Call up Lexington," said Lightning, sharply.

"Go to hell!" said the operator, and then he nearly toppled from his
chair. Lightning, with a vicious gesture, had sw