and dangers shared, were sound asleep, and he could see their tanned
faces when the light of the flickering fires fell upon them. Good old
Warner! Good old Pennington! The comradeship of war knitted youth
together with ties that never could be broken.

He moved into an easier position. He lay upon the soft turf and he had
doubled his blanket under his head as a pillow. At first the droning
noises of camp or preparation had come from afar, but soon they ceased
and now the frogs down by the sluggish waters began to croak.

It was a musical sound, one that he had heard often in his native state,
and, singularly enough, the lad drew encouragement from it. "Be of good
cheer! Be of good cheer! Trust in the future! Trust in the future!"
said all those voices down among the swamps and reeds. And then Dick
said to himself: "I will trust and I will have hope!" He remembered his
last glimpse of Grant's short, strong figure and the confidence that
this man inspired in him. He, with tens of thousands of others, Abraham
Lincoln at their head, had been looking for a man, they had looked long
and in vain for such a man, but Dick was beginning to believe that they
had found him at last.

It would take much of a man to stand before the genius of Lee, but it
might be Grant. Dick's faith in the star of his country, shattered so
often for the moment, began to rise that night and never sank again.

He fell asleep to the homely music of the frogs among the reeds, and
slept without stir until nearly dawn.

Just as the first strip of gray showed in the east Colonel Winchester
walked toward the spot where Dick and his comrades lay. The colonel had