He would leave the camp, disguised as a civilian, and after covering a great distance and risking his life a dozen times he would return with precious information.

A few hours of rest and he was gone again on a like errand.
He seemed to be burning with an inward fire, not a fire that consumed him, but a fire of triumph.

Dick, who had formed a great friendship with him and who saw him often, had never known him to speak more sanguine words.
Always cautious and reserved in his opinions, he talked now of the certainty of victory.

He told them that the South was not only failing in men, having none to fill up its shattered ranks, but that food also was failing.

The time would come, with the steel belt of the Northern navy about it and the Northern armies pressing in on every side, when the South would face starvation.
But a day arrived when there were signs of impending movements in the great Northern camp.