Mr. Sprague took this as his starting-point, and went on to tell Leon just what he must do when he passed the sentries. It was new business to him, and he must be very careful how he acted. He must not attempt to run by them—Mr. Sprague thought that Dawson was rather careless, and was afraid he might do something to draw the sentries’ fire—but must do just as he was told. When ordered to dismount and bring the countersign, “Fidelity”—could he remember it?—he must be sure not to give it until the sentry was close upon him, and then utter it in tones so low that no one but the man for whom it was intended could hear it. Leon promised compliance, repeated the countersign over to be sure he had it in his mind, then shook his father warmly by the hand and went off to Tom Howe’s camp. In reply to their inquiring glances, Leon then went on to tell that his father had decided to see Mr. Knight before he determined what to do in regard to the men who had been operating in the rear, and described how he was going to work it to get by the sentries.
“That’s all right,” said Dawson. “We can’t attempt anything wrong there, although, to tell the truth, I have run by my own sentries more than once.”
“What would they do with you if they were to catch you in that business?” inquired Tom.
“Oh, if you hadn’t made any effort at deserting they would put you in the guard-house,” replied Dawson, with a laugh. “They would think it was merely a little fun on your part, and they wouldn’t punish you very severely. But if you were known to be a deserter, they would hang you in a minute. Now, I suppose we can wait here until it is pretty near dark, and then we must be up and doing. If you fellows don’t want to go say the word, and I’ll go alone.”
“I shall be with you when you see your mother,” said Leon.
“Here too,” said Tom. “You just bet I’ll stick close to Leon’s coat-tails. If he gets into a row I’ll be there to help.”
After that there was silence in the camp, for two of the boys had something at least to think about. They were about to begin soldiering in earnest. It is true that the events of the day before had infused new confidence into them, but the attacking Union party was a great deal stronger than the Confederate escort, and a battle, if one had taken place, could have ended in but one way. Now, they were going right in among those fellows, and who knew but they might run onto a squad of rebels who were numerically their superiors, and be all taken prisoners? That was what bothered Leon. He wasn’t afraid of being shot, but he was afraid of being hanged. There was something murderous about a rope and the men getting ready to haul away on it, but with a bullet the case was different.
“Well, if I am going to die I’ll show myself a man,” soliloquized Leon, as he rolled about under the trees watching Tom, who was getting an early supper for them. “How cool Dawson takes it.”
His rebel friend lay opposite to him, on the other side of the fire, with his saddle for a pillow and his hat drawn over his face, and the regular breathing that came to Leon’s ears told him he was fast asleep.
“Now, it seems to me that if I was going back among a lot of comrades who were just aching to hang me I should find something to think about to keep me awake,” muttered Leon. “Maybe it is all in a lifetime. Perhaps when I have been through as many dangers as he has I can go to sleep, too.”