"Then I think it's time we were starting."

"So do I, Mr. Mason, and now will you take these crackers and smoked ham?
I've plenty in my knapsack. I learned on the plains never to travel
without a food supply. If a soldier starves to death what use is he to
his army? And I reckon you need something to eat. You were about tired
out when I met you last night."

"I surely was, Sergeant, but I'm a new man this morning. You and I
together can't fail."

Dick, in truth, felt an enormous relief. He and his young comrades had
learned to trust Sergeant Whitley implicitly, with his experience of
forest and plain and his infinite resource.

"Where do you figure we are, Sergeant?" he asked.

"In the deep woods, Mr. Mason, but we haven't turned much from the
line leading you to the place where you were to meet Colonel Hertford.
You haven't really lost time, and we'll start again straight ahead,
but we've got to look out for this fellow Slade, who's as tricky and
merciless as they ever make 'em."

"Tell me more about Slade, Sergeant."

"I don't know a lot, but I heard of him from some of our scouts. He was
an overseer of a big plantation before the war. From somewhere up North,
I think, but now he's more of a rebel than the rebels themselves.
Often happens that way. But you've got to reckon with him."