barefooted, freckle-faced boy of perhaps sixteen, his eyes bright with
excitement.

"So it's you on duty, Ben," said Farrell quietly, glancing from the boy
to his horse. "Well, you're in for a ride. Have the men at Lone Tree by
sundown; all of them. See Duval first, an' tell him for me this is a big
thing. Now off with you!"

The boy, grinning happily, swung his horse around, and, jabbing his sides
with bare heels, rode madly away directly south across the vacant land.
Within five minutes he had vanished down a sharp incline. Farrell was
still staring after him, when I asked:

"What is it?"

"A little bit of private war," he said grimly. "If you'll go with me
to-night, Major, I'll show you some guerilla fighting. You heard what
Grant said about Delavan. We've been waiting five days for him to head
back toward Philadelphia. He has twenty wagons, an' a foraging party of
less than fifty men somewhere out Medford way," with sweep of hand to the
northeast. "If he an' Grant get together the two commands will outnumber
us, but we'll have the advantage of surprise, of a swift attack in the
dark. In my judgment that is what Grant was sent out for--to guard
Delavan's wagons. His spy hunting was a personal affair. My advice to
you, Lawrence, is to lie quiet here to-day, and go along with us
to-night. It will be in the same direction you'll have to travel, an' you
might have trouble by daylight. No objections to a fight, have you?"

"None whatever."