Dick, after leaving the college boys and their hosts, felt that a slow stroll outside of camp would be one of the pleasantest ways of passing the time until taps at 10.30.

Even after the rain, the night was close and sultry.
"Don't you sing, Prescott ?" called a first classman as Dick passed near the head of the color line.

"Some of our glee-club fellows are getting together to try some old home songs." But Dick shook his head.

Though he possessed a fair voice, the singing of sentimental or mournful ditties was not in his line that night.

He heard the strumming of guitars and mandolins as he left camp behind.
Dick did not hurry, even to get away from the music.