Pennington followed him to slumberland, but Dick lingered.

He saw lights still flashing on the mountains, and he heard now and then reports from the rifles of the skirmishers, who yet sought each other despite the darkness.

But he yielded at last and he, too, slept until the dawn, which should bring nearly two hundred thousand men face to face in mortal combat.
Dick was awake early.

The September morning came, crisp and clear, the sun showing red gleams over the mountains.

He heard already the sound of distant rifle shots in front, and, through his glasses, he saw far away faint puffs of smoke.