Now and then, as the sun grew warmer, he took off his hat and his bald head gleamed under the yellow rays.
"Which way do you think we're going ?" said the young staff officer, George Dalton, to Harry--Dalton was a quiet youth with a good deal of the Puritan about him and Harry liked him.
"I'm not thinking about it at all," replied Harry with a laugh.

"I've quit trying to guess what our general is going to do, but I fancy that he means to lead us against the enemy.

He has the numbers now." "I suppose you're right," said Dalton.

"I've been trying to guess all along, but I think I'll give it up now and merely follow where the general leads." The bugles blew, the troops rapidly fell into line and marched northward along the turnpike, the Creole band began to play again one of those lilting waltz tunes, and the speed of the men increased, their feet rising and falling swiftly to the rhythm of the galloping air.

Jackson, who was near the head of the column, looked back and Harry saw a faint smile pass over his grim face.