“Ah!” said Colonel Winchester, and then after a moment's thought he added: “It's just as well he escaped. I should not have known what to do with him. But we have you, Dick, to thank for giving the alarm. Now, go inside and change to some dry clothes, if you have any in your baggage, and if not dry yourself before a fire they're going to build in the kitchen.”
“Will you pardon me for speaking of something, sir?”
“Certainly. Go ahead.”
“I think the appearance of young Woodville here indicates the nearness of Forrest or some other strong cavalry force.”
“You're right, Dick, my officers and I are agreed upon it. I have doubled the watch, but now get yourself to that fire and then to sleep.”
Dick obeyed gladly enough. The night had turned raw and chill, and the cold water dripped from his clothes as he walked. But first he produced Woodville's pistol and handed it to Colonel Winchester.
“There's my antagonist's pistol, sir,” he said. “You'll see his initials on it.”
“Yes, here they are,” said Colonel Winchester: “'V.W., C.S.A.' It's a fine weapon, but it's yours, Dick, as you captured it.”
Dick took it and went to the kitchen, where the big fire had just begun to blaze. He was lucky enough to be the possessor of an extra uniform, and before he changed into it—they slept with their clothes on—he roasted himself before those glorious coals. Then, as he was putting on the fresh uniform, Warner and Pennington appeared.
“What would you recommend as best for the patient, Doctor,” said Warner gravely to Pennington.