Roxy had a long story to tell. She had remembered that her mother’s friend, Mrs. Davis, lived on the edge of the town, and the young officer had brought her within sight of the house.
“And, Mrs. Davis, he says that there is to be a battle, that General Burnside’s soldiers are coming——”
But Mrs. Delfield interrupted Roxy’s eager story to ask her the name of the officer who had been kind to her, but Roxy shook her head. “I don’t know, Mother,” she replied; “but he knows my father, and he gave me these,” and Roxy drew two brass buttons from the pocket of her gingham dress. “I’m going to keep them always,” she declared; “and he said I had acted like a soldier!” and Roxy smiled happily.
It was now too late, and Roxy was too tired, for them to start for home that night; and, although Roxy slept peacefully, her mother could not sleep. She knew that every hour marching troops were gathering for battle, and in the dim morning hours Jacob had the horse harnessed and waiting, and Roxy was again awakened before sunrise, and leaning sleepily against her mother’s shoulder as Jacob turned toward home the little girl whispered:
“I guess Polly and I won’t signal any more,” and Mrs. Delfield smiled as she responded:
“Perhaps it will be better not to,” but she felt very proud of the courage her little daughter had shown in refusing to tell the Confederate scouts what the signals from the ledge meant, and that Roxy had so faithfully kept watch, hoping to warn her father of possible danger. To have her little girl safely beside her, and to realize that the great battle would probably now be fought miles away from the hillside farm made her indeed thankful.
Roxy slept nearly all the way home, and as Grandma Miller came into the yard and lifted the little girl from the buggy the first person Roxy’s eyes rested on was the smiling Etta-Belle, neatly dressed in a freshly washed calico.
“I’se h’ar, Missy, an’ I’se gwine ter stay,” she announced, and a moment later a tall girl came racing up the slope, the sun shining on her dancing red hair, and Roxy ran to meet her calling:
“Polly! Polly! I rode to Sharpsburg with the Union Army!”