“Yes,” answered Frank, “I once belonged to a gun-boat.  But who are you?”

“Me?  Oh, I was a captain in the army.  Sherman gets licked at Wicksburg, an’ I gets took brisoner; an’ purty quick me an’ anoder feller runs away.  Here he is;” and, as the Dutchman spoke, a man wearing a shabby Confederate uniform appeared.

Frank’s mind was made up in an instant.  Beyond a doubt this was but a stratagem to capture him.  But he resolved that he would never surrender, as long as he had sufficient strength to handle his rifle.

“Well, my young friend,” exclaimed the man in the rebel uniform, “this is a nice dress for a Federal officer to be wearing, isn’t it?”

“I don’t believe that either of you are officers in the Federal army,” answered Frank.  “It’s my opinion that you are both rebels.  If it is your intention to attempt to capture me, I may as well tell you that your expectations will never be realized, for I shall never be taken alive;” and Frank handled the lock of his gun in a very significant manner.

“I admire your grit,” said the man, “and I acknowledge that you have strong grounds for suspicion.  But we are really escaped prisoners.”

“Yah,” chimed in the Dutchman, “I shwear dat is so.”

“It is no fault of ours,” continued the man, “that we are wearing rebel uniforms; for we were compelled to exchange with our captors, and were obliged to accept these, or go without any.”

“What regiment do you belong to?”

“The One Hundred and Twenty-ninth Illinois Infantry, Company ‘K.’  I formerly belonged to the Forty-sixth Maine.”

“Do you know any of the boys belonging to Company ‘B,’ of the Forty-sixth Maine Regiment?”

“Oh, yes,” replied the man, “I know Harry and George Butler, Ben Lake, and, in fact, all the boys; for I once belonged to that very company.  My home is only twenty miles from Lawrence, the place where the company was raised.”

Frank did not stop to ask any more questions, for he was satisfied that he had fallen in with friends.  How his heart bounded at meeting one who had lived so near his own home!  He hastily crossed the stream, and, seizing the man’s hand, shook it heartily.

“I am overjoyed at meeting with you, sir,” he said, in a voice choked with emotion.  “Perhaps I owe you an apology; but you will acknowledge that it is best to be on the safe side.”

“Certainly it is,” answered the man.  “I should have done exactly as you did, if I had been in your place.  But where are you travelling to?”

“I want to reach Red River, as soon as possible.”

“So do we!  But we have lost our reckoning, and don’t know which way to go.”

“I do,” said Frank.  “This path leads directly to it.”