"I've tried to serve my side," said Lankford, "though, as I told you,
I'm not goin' on the firin' line. It's not worth while for all of us
to get killed. Later on this country will need some people who are not
dead."

"You're right about that, Mr. Lankford," said Sherburne, with a little
laugh, "and you, for one, although you haven't gone on the firing lines,
have earned the right to live. You've done us a great service, sir."

"I reckon I have," said Lankford with calm egotism, "but it was
necessary for me to do it. I've got an inquirin' mind, I have, and also
a calculatin' one. When I saw your little troop comin', an' then that
big troop of the Yankees comin' on behind, I knowed that you needed
help. I knowed that this creek run down a gorge, and that I could lead
you into the gorge and escape pursuit. I figgered, too, that you were
on your way to see about McClellan crossin' the Potomac, an' I figgered
next that you meant to keep straight on, no matter what happened.
So I'm goin' to lead you out of the gorge, and some miles further ahead
you'll come to the Potomac, where I guess you can use your own eyes and
see all you want to see."

"The horses are all right now and I think we'd better be moving,
Mr. Lankford."

They started, but did not go faster than a walk while they were in the
gorge. Harry's eyes had grown somewhat used to the darkness, and he
could make out the rocky walls, crested with trees, the higher branches
of which seemed almost to meet over the chasm.

It was a weird passage, but time and place did not oppress Harry.