Dick's face, still badly swollen from the bites of the mosquitoes, showed all the signs of utter exhaustion.

The sergeant could see, despite the darkness, that it was almost the face of the dead, and he knew that happy chance had brought him in the moment of Dick's greatest need.
He ceased to whisper, because Dick, without intending it, had gone to sleep again.

Then the wary veteran scouted in a circle about their refuge, but did not discover the presence of an enemy.
He sat down near the sleeping lad, with his rifle between his knees, and watched the moon come out.

Owing to his wilderness experience he had been chosen also to go on a scout toward Jackson, though he preferred to make his on foot, and the sound of Dick's shots at the hounds had drawn him to an observation which finally turned into a rescue.
After midnight the sergeant slept a little while, but he never awakened Dick until it was almost morning.

Then he told him that he would go with him on the mission to Hertford, and Dick was very glad.
"What's become of Slade and his men ?" asked Dick.
"I don't know," replied the sergeant, "but as they lost the trail in the night, it's pretty likely they're far from here.