"Which are they?" demanded Noel.
"Dere's some sojers on horseback. I see Massa Little Ben Fowler—"
"Are there twenty of them?" broke in Noel impatiently.
"Yas, suh."
"Where are they?"
"Dey's right by de end on de cord'roy road. I recken dey was goin' toe follow me, but dey all des' shouted and laughed. Dey say I can beat de Yanks at runnin'."
"Dennis," said Noel, turning to his companion, "don't you believe that these men have been stationed there to cut off anybody who might come through here on this road?"
"That's it, me lad! Yis, sor! That's it," replied Dennis.
"Then we can't go ahead and we can't turn back. We're caught right here between these two bodies. What can we do, Dennis?"
"I recken I know what yo' all 'll have to do," spoke up Long John in a whisper, as he spoke peering intently in the direction from which the two young soldiers had recently come.