there was also a growing number of
places where a blue coat might be welcome, but a gray one still
signified "enemy."

Drew moved, and raised Boyd's head and shoulders to his knee. If he
could summon enough energy to reach the canteen hanging from Croaker's
saddle.... Somehow he did, recklessly spilling a cupful of its contents
on Boyd's face, and turning road dust into flecks of mud which freckled
the gaunt cheeks.

"Ain't goin' t' ride--" Boyd's eyes opened and he took up the argument
again.

"Well," Drew lashed out, "I can't carry you! Or do you expect to be
dragged?"

Boyd's face crumpled and he flung up his arms to hide his eyes.

"All right."

With the aid of a sloping bank and an effort which left them both weakly
panting, Boyd was mounted and they started their slow crawl once more.

"Drew!"

He raised his head. Boyd had straightened in the saddle and was pointing
ahead, though his outstretched hand was shaking. "We made it--there's
home!"

Beyond was the green of trees, a whole line of trees curving along a
gravel carriage drive. But somehow Drew could not match Boyd's joy. He
was tired, so tired that he was aware of nothing really but the aching
weariness of his body.

They turned into the drive, the gravel crunching into his holed boots
while the tree shadows made a green twilight. Croaker came to a stop,
and Drew's eyes raised from the gravel to the line of one step and then
another. His gaze finally came to a broad veranda ... to someone who had
been sitting there and who was now on her feet, staring wide-eyed back
at the three of them. Then the gravel came up in a wave and he was
swallowed up in it and darkness--

The sun, warm through the window, awoke a glint of reflection from the
top of the chest of drawers where rested a round cord of bullion with
two tassels and a pair of fancy spurs. The wink of light was reflected
again from the mirror before which Drew stood.

"Jefferson's shirt has long enough sleeves, but all these billows!"
Cousin Merry's tongue clicked against her teeth in exasperation. Her
hand was in the middle of Drew's back, gathering up a good pleating of
linen, but he still had extra folds of cloth to spare over his ribs.
Four days of rest and plenty of food was not sufficient to restore any
padding to his frame. "You certainly grew one way, but not the other!"

Boyd, established in the big chair by the window, laughed.

"I could take a few tucks," Drew offered.

"_