ard among the trees.

"What do you want, Johnny Reb?" he asked in high and thin but friendly
tones.

"Nothing that will cost you anything, Old Vermont," replied Talbot.

"Wall, spit it out," said the Vermonter. "If I'd been born in your State
I'd commit suicide if anybody found it out. Ain't your State the place
where all they need is more water and better society, just the same as
hell?"

"I remember a friend of mine," said Talbot, "who took a trip once with
four other men. He said they were a gentleman from South Carolina, a man
from Maryland, a fellow from New York, and a damned scoundrel from
Vermont. I think he hit it off just about right."

The Vermonter grinned, his mouth forming a wide chasm across the thin
face. He regarded the Southerner with extreme good nature.

"Say, old Johnny Reb," he asked, "what do you fellows want anyway?"

"We'd like to know when your army is going to retreat, and we have come
over here to ask you," replied Talbot.

The cannon boomed again, its thunder rolling and echoing in the morning
air. The note was deep and solemn and seemed to Prescott to hold a
threat. Its effect upon the Vermonter was remarkable. He straightened
his thin, lean figure until he stood as stiff as a ramrod. Then dropping
his rifle, he raised his hand and gave the cannon an invisible salute.

"This army never retreats again," he said. "You hear me, Johnny Reb,
the Army of the Potomac never goes back again. I know that you have
whipped us more than once, and that you have whipped us bad. I don't
forget Manassas and Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, but all that's
done past and gone. We didn't have good generals then, and you won't do
it again--never again, I say. We're comin', Johnny Reb, with the biggest
and best army we've had, and we'll just naturally sweep you off the face
of the earth."

The emphasis with which he spoke and his sudden change of manner at the
cannon shot impressed Prescott, coming, too, upon his own feeling that
there was a solemn and ominous note in the sound of the gun.

"What do those shots mean?" he asked. "Are they not a salute for
somebody?"

"Yes," replied the Vermonter, a glow of joy appearing in his eye. "Grant
has come!"

"Ah!"

"He's to command us now," the Vermonter continued, "and you know what
that means. You have got to stand up and take your medicine. You hear me
telling you!"

A sudden thrill of apprehension ran through Prescott's veins. He had
been heari