But Juliana was an armed host herself, and Dick smiled at the recollection of the strong and honest black face that had bent over him so often.

He prayed without words that these ruthless guerrillas, no matter what flag they bore, should never come to Pendleton.
"I don't think our column on its present march need fear anything from Slade and his band," said Colonel Winchester.

"Such as he can operate only from ambush, and so far as Virginia is concerned, in the mountains.
Shepard says we'll be out of the pass in another hour, and by that time it will be day.

I'll be glad, too, as the cold rain and the darkness and the long ride are beginning to affect the men." The column resumed its march, Dick rode by the side of Colonel Winchester.

Time, propinquity, genuine esteem, and a fourth influence which Dick did not as yet suspect, were fast knitting these two, despite the difference in age, into a friendship which nothing could break.
The meeting with Slade was forgotten quickly, by all except those concerned, and by most of those too, so vast was the war and so little space did it afford for the memory of brief events.