en we git!" But across Croxton's bowed shoulders the other shook his
head warningly at Drew.

He was young and as whipcord thin and tough as most of those over-weary
men from the badgered and now broken command, but he was not tense,
riding rather with the easy adjustment to the quickened pace of a man
more at home in the saddle than on foot. His weather-browned face was
seamed with a scar which ran from left temple to the corner of his
mouth, and his hair was a ragged, unkempt mop of brown-red which tossed
free as he rode, since he was hatless.

With Croxton boxed between them, Drew and the stranger matched pace at
what was a lope rather than a gallop as Boyd ranged ahead. Another
flurry of shots sounded from behind, and they cut across a field, making
for the doubtful cover of a hedge. There was no way, Drew decided after
a quick survey, for them to get back into town and join the general
retreat. The Yankees must be well between them and any of the force
across the Licking.

When they had pushed through the hedge they were faced by a lane running
in the general northwest direction. It provided better footing, and it
led away from the chaos at Cynthiana. With Croxton on their hands it was
the best they could hope for, and without more than an exchange of
glances they turned into it, the wounded man's horse still between them.

The cover of the hedge wall provided some satisfaction and Drew dared to
slow their pace. Under his tan Sam was greenish-white, his eyes half
closed, and he rode with his hands clamped about the saddle horn as if
his grip upon that meant the difference between life and death. But
Drew knew he could not hope to keep on much longer.

There might be Confederate sympathizers in the next farmhouse who would
be willing to take in the wounded scout. On the other hand, the
inhabitants could just as well be Union people. It was obvious that Sam
could not keep going, and it was just as obvious to Drew that they--or
at least he--could not just ride on and leave him untended by the side
of the road.

"Boyd!" So summoned, the youngster reined in to wait for them. "You ride
on! You, too!" Drew addressed the stranger.

Boyd shook his head, though he glanced at the winding road ahead. "I
ain't leavin' you!" His lip was sticking out in that stubborn pout.

At that moment Drew could have lashed out at him and enjoyed it, or at
least found a satisfaction in passing on some of his own exasperation
and frus