“I hope we haven’t got to march far through this mud,” added Ben Lethbridge.
“That will depend upon how soon we come up with the rebels. If it rests with Hooker, I tell you he will get a fight out of the rebs, if such a thing is possible.”
After the regiment had marched five or six miles, the order came to halt; and the intelligence passed along the column that the cavalry had come up with the enemy, and were waiting the arrival of an infantry force to assist in the attack.
“Good!” shouted Tom. “We shall have a battle before night.”
“Perhaps not,” added Hapgood. “It takes the cat a good while to catch the mouse, even after she smells the critter.”
“Why don’t we march? What are we stopping here for?” said Tom, impatiently.
“They say Smith’s division has got in ahead of us. Keep cool, Tom; never be in a hurry for a battle. Some of us that stand here now won’t be alive in twenty-four hours from now; for I don’t believe the rebs are going to let us have it all our own way,” said the veteran.
“Nor I,” added Fred Pemberton. “I shall be killed in this fight.”
“How do you know, Fred?” demanded Hapgood, sternly.
“Of course I don’t know, but I feel it in my bones that I shall fall in the first battle.”