The sergeant stood quietly by and smiled.
The detachment numbered a hundred men, all young, strong, and well mounted.

They were commanded by a young captain, John Markham, in whom Dick recognized a distant relative.

In those days nearly all Kentuckians were more or less akin.

The kinship was sufficient for Markham to keep the two boys on either side of him with Sergeant Whitley just behind.
Markham lived in Frankfort and he had marched with Thomas from the cantonments at Lebanon to their present camp.
"John," said Dick, addressing him familiarly and in right of kinship, "you've been for months in our own county.

You've surely heard something from Pendleton ?" He could not disguise the anxiety in his voice, and the young captain regarded him with sympathy.
"I had news from there about a month ago, Dick," he replied.