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      "Where do you belong?"He was none too soon. The tramping through the bushes, and the various noises that bodies of men will make when in motion, had reached the ears of the alert rebels. A dazzling series of flashes ran along the sky-line, and a flight of bullets sang wickedly over the heads of the 200th Ind., striking in the bushes and trees far behind them.

      "Sergeant!" ejaculated Si, Shorty and the Deacon, in the same breath. "Are you sure it's Sergeant?"

      "Good boy," Albin said absently. "What's your name?"

      The musketry fire continued fitfully around the mill in the distance."Then it was only a difference in degree, not kind. Was he not accomplishing what he was ordered to do?"

      Calling Alf Russell and Monty Scruggs to follow him, Si started back to the scene of the skirmish of the night before. The woods looked totally different, under the bright Spring sunshine, from what they had seemed in the chill, wet blackness of the previous night. Buds were bursting and birds singing, and all nature seemed very blithe and inspiring."This is the place of masters," Cadnan said. "We train here, and we work here, and live here. It is the rule of the masters."


      "What in the world am I going to do?" inquired Si dolefully. "There's no use sending back for them. They've probably got mixed up with some other squads, and gone the Lord knows where. They haven't sense enough to find their regiment in such a ruck as this." And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf."


      "Si, you orter to be more careful in talkin' to your sisters," he remonstrated when they were alone."They call it explanation when it gits a feller out, and blamed lie when it don't," muttered Shorty to himself, as he went out again, to follow the squad as far as he could with his eyes. "Anyway, I'll bet on the Deacon."