At last all was quiet, and the fires dying away, the camp was buried in profound slumber.
Two hours after midnight Colonel Clark was awakened by a touch on his shoulder. Starting up, he saw the little adjutant before him, who spoke at once.
“Colonel, the whole of Dillard’s men, with their first lieutenant, have deserted, and forded the river on the way home.”
In a moment Clark was on his feet, broad awake.
“Have they taken their horses? Has any one else gone? Have the sentries at the ford played us false?”
“Not one, sir. The scoundrels crossed higher up, leaving their horses in camp. Dillard remains here. I only found it out five minutes ago, while making my rounds.”
Clark laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Frank, you’re little, but you’re worth ten giants. Call the bugler and sound to arms. I’ll send you after them, lad.”