The road from side to side was plowed deep with the hoofs of horses,
every footprint pointing northward.

"Grierson's cavalry," said Dick.

"I take it that it can't be anything else. There is certainly in these
parts no rebel force of cavalry large enough to make this trail."

"How old would you say these tracks are?"

"Hard to tell, but they can't have been made many hours ago. We'll press
forward, lieutenant, and we can save time going through the fields on the
edge of the road."

Although they had to take down fences they made good speed and just as
the sun was rising they saw the light of a low campfire among some trees,
lining either bank of a small creek. They approached warily, until they
saw the faded blue uniforms. Then they galloped forward, shouting that
they were friends, and in a few minutes were in the presence of Grierson
himself.

He had been making a great raid, but he was eager now for the opportunity
to strike at Forrest. He must give his horses a short rest, and then
Dick and the sergeant should guide him at speed to the ford where the
opposing forces stood.

"It's twenty-five miles, you tell me?" said Grierson to Dick.

"As nearly as I can calculate, sir. It's through swampy country, but I