Rush your jacket on and jump for your horse." They had stayed about a half-hour at the creek, and about two o'clock in the morning Powell and May led them through a dense wood to the edge of a high hill.
"There's Frankfort below you," said May in a voice that trembled.
The night was brilliant, almost like day, and they saw the little city clustered along the banks of the Kentucky which flowed, a dark ribbon of blue.

Their powerful glasses brought out everything distinctly.

They saw the old state house, its trees, and in the open spaces, tents standing by the dozens and scores.

It was the division of Kirby Smith that occupied the town, and Bragg himself had made a triumphant entry.

Dick wondered which house sheltered him.