The women were not afraid to tell the Yankees what they thought of them, and in this war which was never a war on women the troopers merely laughed, or, if they felt anger, they hid it.
On they went through night and day, and now they drew near to Sheridan.
Scouts in blue met them and the gallant column shook their sabers and saluted.

Yes, it was true, they said, that Sheridan was gathering a fine army and he and all of his men were eager to march, but Colonel Hertford's force, sent by General Grant to help, would be welcomed with shouts.

The fame of its three colonels had gone on before.
It was bright noon when they approached the northern end of the valley, and Dick saw a horseman followed by a group of about twenty men galloping toward them.

The leader was a short, slender man, sitting firmly in his saddle.
"General Sheridan!" exclaimed Shepard.
Colonel Hertford instantly ordered his trumpeter to sound a signal, and the troopers, stopping and drawing up in a long line, awaited the man who was to command them, and who was coming on so fast.

Again Dick examined him closely through his glasses, and he saw the young, tanned face under the broad brim of his hat, and the keen, flashing eyes.
He noticed also how small he was.