"Now," continued Fred, "if you are hailed from the front to-night act just as if you had not heard of this. I will take care of the rear."
When everything was prepared the soldiers, wrapped in their blankets, sat down to wait for what might come. So intently did they listen that the falling of a leaf would startle them. The hours passed slowly away. There was a half-moon, but dark clouds swept across the sky, and only now and then she looked forth, hiding her face again in a moment. Once in a while a dash of cold rain would cause the sentinels to shiver and sink their chins deeper into the collars of their great coats.
Midnight came, and still all was quiet. The soldiers not on guard lay wrapped in their blankets, some of them in the land of dreams.
Off in the woods the hoot of an owl was heard. Instantly Fred was all attention. A few minutes passed, and again the dismal "Whoo! whoo!" this time much nearer. Fred aroused his men. Instantly they were all attention, and every sense alert.
"Have you heard anything?" whispered the sergeant, next to him.
"Nothing but the suspicious hooting of an owl," whispered back Fred. Then to the soldiers, "Perfectly still, men; not a sound."
So still were they that the beatings of their hearts could be heard. Again the dismal hoot was heard, this time so near that it startled them.
Then from the sentinel out in front came the short, sharp challenge, "Who comes there?"
He was answered immediately. "A deserter who wishes to come into the lines and give himself up."