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still finding nothing, would drop back to the road and rejoin their command as soon as they could. After a while this work of the point had used up the first platoon, and began to eat into ours. It was then recalled and our platoon took its place, with Squad 6 as point, Squad 7 providing the patrols and communicating files, and our squad as immediate reserve. Word coming for more men, Clay and Reardon were sent forward, and I saw them despatched off to the right, Clay toward a nearby sugar-bush, a little grove with its sugar house at its edge, and Reardon further forward, toward a suspicious hollow behind which was a railroad embankment which might conceal a regiment. I was plainly among the next to go, and waited impatiently. Then we halted, and remained so for some time. The men grumbled. Why stop? Why wasn't the support following more closely? Where was the enemy, anyway? Hoping to be right in the middle of the next scrap, we were disappointed at any delay. Meanwhile Clay, having found nothing in his sugar-bush, returned, and attention was fixed on our flanking patrol to the left, who having discovered that we had stopped, likewise became stationary, and leaving un-rummaged the thick little growth of birch ahead of him, sat himself down in the midst of an apple orchard, and visibly regaled himself on something red. This was exasperating, we having already had to leave untouched so many trees laden with fruit. Roars from the sergeant failing to dislodge our resting patrol, a man was starting out to order him on, when he was observed to start, crouch behind a tree, make ready to shoot, and then to fall back from cover to cover, continually presenting his gun at an unseen enemy. He rejoined us out of breath, and feverishly reported having heard men in the scrub, and a voice ordering him to surrender. The sergeant was hastily sending out our squad to investigate the birches, when a bunch of men were seen to break cover from them. As they wore no white hat-bands we knew they must be our men; and when they came nearer we saw them to be Squad 9, which a quarter hour before the captain had despatched on special flanking duty, and which, being full of energy, had done their work and more too, coming back after a practical joke on our patrol. And then we were ordered to return! Instead of the support marching to fill the gap between us, we were to go back to it. Bannister objected that a man was missing, Reardon through
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