It was arranged neatly, and by its side flowed the clear, cool waters of Young's Branch, a tributary of the little Manassas River.
He walked briskly, crossed the brook, stepping from stone to stone, and entered the grounds of the Invincibles.

A tall youth rushed forward, seized his hand and shook it violently, meanwhile uttering cries of welcome in an unbroken stream.
"By all the powers, it's our own Harry!" he exclaimed, "the new Harry of the West, whom we were afraid we should never see again.

Everything is for the best, but we hardly hoped for this! How did you get here, Harry?
And you didn't bring Kentucky rushing to our side, after all! Well, I knew it wasn't your fault, old horse! Ho, St.Clair, come and see who's here!" St.Clair, who had been lying in the grass behind a tent, appeared and greeted Harry joyfully.

But while Langdon was just the same he had changed in appearance.

He was thinner and graver, and his intellectual face bore the stamp of rapid maturity.
"It's like greeting one of our very own, Harry," he said.