"Is-that-you-Frank?" telegraphed the operator.
"Yes," came the unhesitating answer.
"Ask him if he has seen anything of the Rebs," suggested Mr. Tevis.
"No," was the response to this inquiry, "not one."
"He's a pretty good liar," said the pale-faced man, half to himself. The instrument began to work again.
"Are there any troops at Middleton," slowly asked the Reb operator down the line.
An answer was clicked back hastily.
"I told him that we had a regiment and two batteries of artillery," whispered the young man at the desk, smiling.
"Why under the sun didn't you make it an army corps," said Mr. Tevis.
The operator tried again, but no answer came. Dresden had switched off for good. A bustle and a cheer outside in the square showed that something was going forward. Judge Black had arrived. The Judge was a veteran of the Mexican war; his age alone had prevented him from accepting a commission in the army; but the village had a great respect for his military knowledge. He was offered the command of the forces by the Mayor; about four hundred had gathered; but there were no more than seventy muskets, with less than four rounds apiece. A search of the town shops disclosed the fact that there were but ten pounds of good powder to be had. Now "Skinny" came to the rescue with the same words he had used on the day before.