dead.

Dick was awakened early in the morning by Sergeant Whitley, who was now
watching over him like an elder brother. The sun already rode high and
there was a great stir and movement, as the brigade was forming for its
continued retreat on the capital. The boy's body was at first stiff
and sore, but the elasticity of youth returned fast, and after a brief
breakfast he was fully restored.

Another hot day had dawned, but Dick reflected grimly that however hot
it might be it could not be as hot as the day before had been. Scouts
in the night had brought back reports that the Southern troops were on
the northern side of Bull Run, but not in great force, and a second
battle was no longer feared. The flight could be continued without
interruption over the hot Virginia fields.

Much of Dick's depression returned as they advanced under the blazing
sun, but Whitley, who seemed insensible to either fatigue or gloom,
soon cheered him up again.

"They talk about the Southerners comin' on an' takin' Washington,"
he said, "but don't you believe it. They haven't got the forces,
an' while they won the victory I guess they're about as tired as we are.
Our boys talk about a hundred thousand rebels jumpin' on 'em, an' some
felt as if they was a million, but they weren't any more than we was,
maybe not as many, an' when they are all stove up themselves how can
they attack Washington in its fortifications! Don't be so troubled,
boy. The Union ain't smashed up yet. Just recollect whenever it's dark
that light's bound to come later on. What do you say to that, Long
Legs?"