forests, and many little streams of
clear water. Most of the fields were enclosed in stone fences, and the
great barns and well-built houses indicated prosperous farmers.

He and Dalton rode up to one of these houses, and, finding every door
and window closed, knocked on the front door with a pistol butt.
They knew it was occupied, as they had seen smoke coming from the
chimney.

"This house surely belongs to a Dutchman," said Dalton, meaning one
of those Pennsylvanians of German descent who had settled in the rich
southeast of Pennsylvania generations ago.

"I fear they don't know how to talk English," said Harry.

"They can if they have to. Hit that door several times more, Harry,
and hit it hard. They're a thrifty people, and they wouldn't like to
see a good door destroyed."

Harry beat a resounding tattoo until the door was suddenly thrown open
and the short figure of a man of middle years, chin-whiskered and gray,
but holding an old-fashioned musket in his hands, confronted them.

"Put down that gun, Herr Schneider! Put it down at once!" said Dalton,
who had already levelled his pistol.

The man was evidently no coward, but when he looked into Dalton's eye,
he put the musket on the floor.

Harry, still sitting on his horse--they had ridden directly up to the
front door--saw a stalwart woman and several children hovering in the
dusk of the room behind the man. He watched the whole group, but he
left the examination to Dalton.

"I want you to tell me, Herr Schneider, the location of the Army of the
Potomac, down to the last gun and man, and what are the intentions of
General Meade," said Dalton.

The man shook his head and said, "Nein."

"Nine!" said Dalton indignantly. "General Meade has more than nine men
with him! Come, out with the story! All those tales about the rebels
coming to burn and destroy are just tales, and nothing more. You
understand what I'm saying well enough. Come, out with your
information!"

"Nein," said the German.

"All right," said Dalton in a ferocious tone. "After all, we are the
rebel ogres that you thought we were."

He turned toward his comrade and, with his back toward the German,
winked and said:

"What do you think I'd better do with him?"

"Oh, kill him," replied Harry carelessly. "He's broad between the eyes
and there's plenty of room there for a bullet. You couldn't miss at two
yards."

The German made a dive toward his musket, but Dalton cried sh