As there was no appearance of an enemy in any direction, he followed this road for some time, and finally it brought him to the object of his search--the railroad.
But then came up the most perplexing question he had yet been called upon to decide.

To that railroad, as to all others, there were, unfortunately, two ends--one of which lay within the Federal lines, and the other within the rebel lines.

If Tom had been an astronomer, which he was not, the night was too cloudy to enable him to consult the stars; besides, some railroads are so abominably crooked that the heavenly orbs would hardly have been safe pilots.

He did not know which was north, nor which was south, and to go the wrong way would be to jump out of the frying pan into the fire.
Tom sat down by the side of the road, and tried to settle the difficult question; but the more he thought, the more perplexed he became--which shows the folly of attempting to reason when there are no premises to reason from.

He was, no doubt, an excellent logician; but bricks cannot be made without straw.
"Which way shall I go ?" said Tom to himself, as he stood up and peered first one way and then the other through the gloom of the night.
But he could not see Washington in one direction, nor Richmond in the other, and he had not a single landmark to guide him in coming to a decision.
"I'll toss up!" exclaimed he, desperately, as he took off his cap and threw it up into the air.