"That sounded like a rifle shot," said Noel seriously. "I tell you, Dennis, we must get back to camp. I don't want to take any chances of being cut off, and it would be mighty easy for some Johnnie to get between us and the picket. I don't like the sound of that shot."
"No more do I," agreed Dennis. "I'm with you, lad, we'll start for the camp."
More anxious than either of the young soldiers was willing to admit to his companion, Noel and Dennis started hastily down the hillside, on their way back to the garrison at Harper's Ferry.
Even thoughts of foraging apparently were ignored or forgotten by Dennis. Success had not crowned their efforts that day. Not a pig had been seen, and if there were any chickens in the region they had been successfully hidden by their owners. A few withered beets and a bunch of onions comprised the entire stock which Dennis had secured with all his efforts.
"Look yonder, will ye!" exclaimed the excited young Irishman in a loud whisper, pointing as he spoke to a small body of men in gray who could be seen not far away in the road before them.
"We'll have to hide," whispered Noel. "It may be that they have seen us already, but if they haven't we might stand a chance of getting past them. Come on!" he added as he seized his companion by the arm and drew him to the roadside.
The discovery which the two young soldiers had made was doubly threatening because the road now was not near any woods.
The partly cleared fields were inclosed by rude fences of rails. Hastily leaping over the fence, Noel and Dennis crouched on the ground behind the rails.
Before they had taken their position Dennis whispered hoarsely, "They have seen us, lad. There must be twinty men in that band. If we try for the woods yonder, they'll get us both."
"We'll have to stay right where we are, Dennis, and do the best we can to defend ourselves."