who told him that the colonel had gone through the day without a wound,
and was with Buckner. Then Dick asked if any Mississippians were along
the line.

"What do you want with 'em?" asked a long, lank man with a bilious yellow
face.

"I've got a friend among 'em. Woodville is his name, and he's about my
own age."

"I've heard of the Woodvilles. Big an' rich family in Missip. 'Roun'
Vicksburg and Jackson mostly. I'm from the Yazoo valley myself, an' if I
hear of the young fellow I'll send him down this way. But I can't stay
out long, 'cause it'll soon be time for me to have my chill. Comes every
other night reg'lar. But I'll be all right for battle to-morrow, when
we lick you Yankees out of the other boot, having licked you out of one
to-day."

"All right, old Yazoo," laughed Dick. "Go on and have your chill,
but if you see Woodville tell him Mason is waiting down here by the wood."

"I'll shorely do it, if the chill don't git me fust," said the yellow
Mississippian as he strolled away, and Dick knew that he would keep his
word.

The lad lingered at the spot where he had met the man, hoping that by
some lucky chance Woodville might come, and fortune gave him his wish.
A slender figure emerged from the dark, and a voice called softly:

"Is that you, Mason?"