actly our sort," added the soldier.

"Mine was all used up, and I got one on the battle-field."

"I wouldn't do that. It's mean to rob a dead man of his clothes."

"Couldn't help it--I was almost naked," replied Tom, who perfectly agreed
with the rebel on this point.

"You kin go on, Old Virginny," said the soldier, whose kindly sympathy for
Tom and his sick father was highly commendable.

The soldier boy thanked the sentinel for his permission, of which he
immediately availed himself. Tom did not yet realize the force of the
maxim that "all is fair in war," and his conscience gave a momentary
twinge as he thought of the deception he had practised upon the honest and
kind-hearted rebel. He was very thankful that he had not been compelled to
put a bullet through his head; but perhaps he was more thankful that the
man had not been obliged to do him a similar favor.

The fugitive walked, with an occasional rest, till daylight the next
morning. He went through three or four small villages. After passing
through the Gap, he had taken the railroad, as less likely to lead him
through the more thickly settled parts of the country. Before him the
mountains of the Blue Ridge rose like an impassable wall, and when the day
dawned he was approaching Manassas Gap. He had walked twenty-five miles
during the night, and prudence, as well as fatigue, required him to seek a
place of rest.

CHAPTER XX.

DOWN THE SHENANDOAH.

In that wild mountain region, Tom had no difficulty in finding a secluded
spot, where there was no probability that he would be molested. He had
been in a state of constant excitement during the night, for the country
was full of soldiers. The mountaineers of Virginia were rushing to the
standard of rebellion. They were a wild, rude set of men, and they made
the night hideous with their debauchery. Tom succeeded in keeping out of
the way of the straggling parties which were roaming here and there; but
he was filled with dread and anxiety lest he should, at the next moment,
stumble upon a camp, or a squad of these marauders.

The nook in the mountains which he had chosen as his resting place was a
cleft in the rocks, concealed by the overhanging branches of trees. Here
he made his bed, as the sun rose, and, worn out with fatigue and anxiety,
he dropped asleep.

When he awoke, the sun was near the meridian. He rose and walked out a
short distance from his lodging place, and listened for any sounds whi