“But I can’t stop to do all that. Here’s my pass, and I want to go on. My father may die before I get home.”
“What regiment do you b’long to?” asked the guard, who evidently did not wish to disoblige a fellow-soldier unnecessarily.
“The Second Virginia,” replied Tom, at a venture.
“Where does your father live?” continued the sentinel.
“Just beyond the Gap, if he’s living at all.”
“What town?”
Tom was nonplussed, for he did not know the name of a single place on the route before him; and, of course, he did not dare to answer the question.
“About five or six miles from here,” he answered.
“Is it Salem or White Plains?” demanded the soldier, whose cunning was inferior to his honesty.
“White Plains,” added Tom, promptly accepting the suggestion.