The three “just plain privates” grinned.

“What are you going to do with me?” asked Dick.

“We’re goin’ to give you a pleasant little ride.  We killed your hoss, for which I ’pologize again, but I’ve got a good one of my own, and you’ll jump up behind me.”

A sudden spatter of rifle fire came from the direction of the Northern pickets.

“Them sentinels of yours have funny habits,” said Robertson grinning.  “Just bound to hear their guns go off.  They’re changin’ the guard now.”

“How do you know that?” asked Dick.

“Oh, I know a heap.  I’m a terrible wise man, but bein’ so wise I don’t tell all I know or how I happen to know it.  Hop up, sonny.”

“Don’t you think I’ll be a lot of trouble to you,” said Dick, “riding behind you thirty or forty miles to your camp?”

The four men exchanged glances, and no one answered.  The boy felt a sudden chill, and his hair prickled at the roots.  He did not know what had caused it, but surely it was a sign of some danger.

The night deepened steadily as they were talking.  The twilight had gone long since.  The last afterglow had faded.  The darkness was heavy with warmth.  The thick foliage of spring rustled gently.  Dick’s sensation that something unusual was happening did not depart.

The four men, after looking at one another, looked fixedly at Dick.

“Sonny,” said Robertson, “you ain’t got no call to worry ’bout our troubles.  As I said, this is a good, strong hoss of mine, an’ it will carry us just as far as we go an’ no further.”

It was an enigmatical reply, and Dick saw that it was useless to ask them questions.  Robertson mounted, and Dick, without another word, sprang up behind him.  Two of the privates rode up close, one on either side, and the other kept immediately behind.  He happened to glance back and he saw that the man held a drawn pistol on his thigh.  He wondered at such extreme precautions, and the ominous feeling increased.

“Now, lads,” said Robertson to his men, “don’t make no more noise than you can help.  There ain’t much chance that any Yankee scoutin’ party will be out, but if there should be one we don’t want to run into it.  An’ as for you, Mr. Mason, you’re a nice boy.  We all can see that, but just as shore as you let go with a yell or anything like it at any time or under any circumstances, you’ll be dead the next second.”

A sudden fierce note rang in his voice, and Dick, despite all his courage, shuddered.  He felt as if a nameless terror all at once threatened not only him, but others.  His lips and mouth were dry.

Robertson spoke softly to his horse, and then rode slowly forward through the deep forest.  The others rode with him, never breaking their compact formation, and preserving the utmost silence.  Dick did not ask another question.  Talk and fellowship were over.  Everything before him now was grim and menacing.