The young riders rode on and the tread of their hoofs died in the
undergrowth. Then Harry emerged from his own kindly clump of bushes and
increased his speed, anxious to reach Ewell, without any more of those
encounters. He made good progress through the thickets, and soon after
sundown saw a glow which he took to be that of campfires. He advanced
cautiously, met the Southern sentinels and knew that he was right.
The very first of these sentinels was an old soldier of Jackson, who knew
him well.
"Mr. Kenton!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, Thorn! It's you!" said Harry without hesitation.
The soldier was pleased that he should be recognized thus in the dusk,
and he was still more pleased when the young aide leaned down and shook
his hand.
"I might have known, Thorn, that I'd find you here, rifle on your arm,
watching," he said.
"Thank you, Mr. Kenton. You'll find the general over there on a log by
the fire."
Harry dismounted, gave his horse to a soldier and walked into the glade.
Ewell sat alone, his crutch under his arms, his one foot kicking back the
coals, his bald head a white disc in the glow.
"General Ewell, sir," said Harry.
General Ewell turned about and when he saw Harry his face clearly showed
gladness.
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