gray hair, on their horses near the center of the line, and talking
together. One gestured two or three times as he spoke, and he moved his
arm rather stiffly.

The three Union colonels were in a little group not far from Dick,
and they also were talking with one another. Dick wondered what they
would do, but he was saved from long wonderment by the call of a trumpet
from the Southern force, and the appearance of a horseman not older than
himself riding forward and bearing a white flag.

"They want a truce," said Colonel Hertford. "Go and meet them, Mason."

Dick, willing enough, turned his horse toward the young man who, heavily
tanned, was handsome, well-built and dressed with scrupulous care in a
fine gray uniform.

"My name is St. Clair," he said, "and I'm an officer on the staff of
Colonel Leonidas Talbot, who commands the force behind me."

"I think we've met once before," said Dick. "My name is Mason, Richard
Mason, and I am with Colonel Arthur Winchester, who commands one of the
regiments that has just been fighting you."

"It's so! Upon my life it's so, and you're the same Dick Mason that's
the cousin of our Harry Kenton, the fellow he's always talking about!
He's on General Lee's staff, but he's been detached for temporary duty
with us. He's over there all right. But I've come to tell you that
Colonel Talbot, who commands us, offers a flag of truce to bury the dead.
He sees that neither side can win, that to continue the battle would only
involve us in mutual destruction. He wishes, too, that I convey to your