“I reckon we needn’t hurry now,” said Joe, as he seated himself on a rock.

“I don’t think there is any danger of their catching us,” replied Tom, as he seated himself beside his fellow-traveller.  “Can you tell me where we are?”

“I reckon I can.  There ain’t a foot of land in these yere parts that I hain’t had my foot on.  I’ve toted plunder of all sorts through these woods more’n ten thousand times.”

“Well, where are we?” asked Tom, whose doubts in regard to the locality had not yet been solved.

In the pressure of more exciting matters, he had not attempted to explain why he did not come to Fairfax station while following the railroad.

“If we keep on a little while longer, I reckon we shall come to Thoroughfare Gap,” answered Joe.

“But where do you live?  What town is your house in?” asked Tom, who had never heard of Thoroughfare Gap before.

“Haymarket is the nearest town to my house.”

“What railroad is that over there?” asked Tom, who was no nearer the solution of the question than he had been in the beginning.

“That’s the Manassas Gap Railroad, I reckon,” replied Joe, who seemed to be astonished at the ignorance of his companion.

“Just so,” added Tom, who now, for the first time, comprehended where he was.

When he left Sudley church, he walked at random till he came to the railroad; but he had struck the Manassas Gap Railroad instead of the main line, and it had led him away from the great body of the rebels, though it also conducted him away from Washington, where he desired to go.  He was perplexed at the discovery, and at once began to debate the question whether it was advisable for him to proceed any farther in this direction.

“I suppose you are a Union man—­ain’t you?” said Tom, after he had considered his situation for some time.

Instead of answering this question, Joe Burnap raised his eyes from the ground, and fixed his gaze intently upon Tom.  He stared at him for a moment in doubt and silence, and then resumed his former attitude.

“You don’t want to fight for the south,” added Tom; “so I suppose you don’t believe in the Southern Confederacy.”

“I don’t want to fight for nuther of ’em,” replied Joe, after a moment of further consideration.  “If they’ll only let me alone, I don’t keer which beats.”

His position was certainly an independent one, and he appeared to be entirely impartial.  The newspapers on either side would not have disturbed him.  Patriotism—­love of country—­had not found a resting place in his soul.  Tom had not, from the beginning, entertained a very high respect for the man; but now he despised him, and thought that a rebel was a gentleman compared with such a character.  How a man could live in the United States, and not feel an interest in the stirring events which were transpiring around him, was beyond his comprehension.  In one word, he so thoroughly despised Joe Burnap, that he resolved, at the first convenient opportunity, to get rid of him, for he did not feel safe in the company of such a person.