eful and happy. He had lost a
brother, one of his own blood, but I content myself with the belief
that he has with him now another who will provide him with what
guidance and protection he can give.

Remember--we want you both here with us once more, and let it be
soon.

With affection and love,

Drew could not have told whether her "Meredith Barrett" at the bottom of
the page was as firmly penned as ever. To him it was now wavering from
one misty letter to the next. Slowly he made a business of folding the
sheet into a neat square of paper which he could fit into the safe
pocket under his belt. A crack was forming in the shell he had started
to grow on the night he first rode out of Red Springs, and he now feared
losing its protection. He wanted to be the Drew Rennie who had no ties
anywhere, least of all in Kentucky. Yet not for the world would he have
lost that letter, though he did not want to read it again.

"Rennie! Double-quick it; the General's askin' for you!"

Boyd started up eagerly from his perch on another saddle. He was, Drew
decided, like a hound puppy, so determined to be taken hunting that he
watched each and every one of them all the time. He had been allowed to
ride on this return visit to West Tennessee with the condition that he
would act as one of Drew's scout couriers, a position which kept him
under his elder's control and attached to General Buford's Headquarters
Company.

Kirby reached out a brown hand to catch Boyd by the sleeve and anchor
him.

"Now, kid, jus' because the big chief sends for him, it ain't no sign
he's goin' to take the warpath immediately, if not sooner. Ease off, an'
keep your moccasins greased!"

Drew laughed. Nobody who rode with Forrest could complain of a lack of
action. He had heard that some general in the East had said he would
give a dollar or some such to see a dead cavalryman. Well, there had
been sight of those at Harrisburg and some at the blockhouses. Forrest
stated that Morgan's men could fight; he did not have to say that of his
own.

Now they were heading into another sort of war altogether. Drew hadn't
figured out just how Bedford Forrest intended to fight river gunboats
with horse soldiers, but the scout didn't doubt that his general had a
plan, one which would work, barring any extra bad luck.

They were setting a trap along the Tennessee right now, lying in the
enemies' own back pasture to do it. South, downriv