“You're right, Billy, and as we ride on we'll all three listen with six good ears.”
“Yes, sir,” said Billy.
Harry, although only a boy himself, was so much older than Billy, who addressed him as “sir,” that he felt himself quite a veteran.
“Billy,” he said, “how did it happen that you were riding down this way, so far from home, to-day?”
“'Cause we heard there was Yanks in the Gap. Ma won't let me go an' fight with Stonewall Jackson. She says I ain't old enough an' big enough, but she told me herself to get on the horse an' ride down this way, an' see if what we heard was true. I saw 'em in little bunches, an' then that gang come to our house to-night, less 'n ten minutes after I come back. We'll be at a creek, sir, in less than five minutes. It runs down from the mountains, an' it's pretty deep with all them big spring rains. I guess we'll have to swim, sir. We could go lower down, where there's always a ford, but that's where the Yankees would be crossing.”
“We'll swim, if necessary, Billy.”
“When even the women and little children fight for us, the South will be hard to conquer,” was Harry's thought, but he said no more until they reached the creek, which was indeed swollen by the heavy rains, and was running swiftly, a full ten feet in depth.
“Hold on, Billy, I'll lead the way,” said Harry.
But Billy was already in the stream, his short legs drawn up, and his horse swimming strongly. Harry and Dalton followed without a word, and the three emerged safely on the eastern side.
“You're a brave swimmer, Billy,” said Harry admiringly.