"What do you see, Dick?" asked Pennington, his voice distinctly audible
through the steady roar.

"Johnnies! Johnnies! Johnnies! Thousands and thousands of them and
then many thousands more. They're going to strike full upon us here!"

"Let 'em come. We're taking root, growing deep into the ground and old
'Pap' Thomas has grown deepest of us all! It'll be impossible to move
us!"

"I hope so. There go our own cannon, too, and it's a welcome sound!
I can see the gaps smashed in their ranks by our fire, and ah, I see,
too--"

He stopped short in amazed surprise, and Pennington in wonder asked:

"What is it you see, Dick?"

"There's a heavy cavalry force on their flank, and I caught a glimpse
of a man on a great horse leading it. I know him. He's Colonel George
Kenton, father of Harry Kenton, that cousin of mine, of whom I've spoken
to you so often."

"And here he comes charging you! But it's happened hundreds and hundreds
of times in this war that relatives have come face to face in battle,
and it'll happen hundreds of times more. Are they within rifle shot,
Dick?"

"Not yet, but they soon will be."