After they had tethered their mounts, Bill Brown, Bright Star, and the two Gordons walked down to the edge of the river. The sun had now set, but some of its last rays lingered over the opposite bank, tinting the sand and the alders and willows as if with blood. A chill breeze had sprung up from the west, and the water in the river looked dark and cold. Suddenly, a strange shiver, a premonition, as it were, of something ominous to come, ran through every nerve and vein of Tom Gordon. “What’s the matter, Tom?” asked Bill Brown, who had been watching the boy closely. “Nothing, Bill, at least not anything real; but I have a queer foreboding of something evil, soon to come.” “Yer prob’ly over-tired, lad. It’s been a long, hard day, an’ you ain’t saddle-broke yit. Hop along an’ git as much sleep as you kin, afore it’s yer turn to stand watch.” Tom and Ben, and even the hardy, steel-sinewed Bright Star, were so weary that they were glad to accede to Bill’s suggestion. They drew their blankets closely about their bodies, pillowed their heads upon the haversacks which had been given them as part of their outfits, and speedily shut their eyes. For a few moments, Tom Gordon heard the occasional stamp of a horse’s hoof, a trooper passing nearby, once the hoot of an owl in a copse down river, and then he heard nothing more. He was sound asleep and he did not wake until shortly after midnight, when he was summoned to stand the second watch. Tom had as his comrade on this watch a young Irish trooper by the name of Jim Martin, who had only recently joined the service. Jim took the northern side of the camp, and walked back and forth in a wide arc from out on the prairie to the river bank. Tom had a similar arc on the south. Now and then they would meet on the prairie side of the circle. At these times, they would exchange a word or two and pass on. “’Ave yer seen anythin’ alarmin’?” asked Jim, after about an hour’s watch. “No, not a thing, Jim.” “Ner me neither, b’jabbers. I’m after thinkin’ ther ain’t a red thafe within miles of the place.” Another hour passed and it seemed to Tom that the watch might well be relaxed, as Jim Martin had hinted. The countless stars winked and danced in the most friendly fashion, and the light breeze had died away entirely. He again met his companion, and they exchanged the usual word of greeting. Tom passed on, traversing the familiar arc once more. His path led through a clump of willows, and just beyond them in a close group were the horses. Tom’s eyes, good at any time, had become used to the darkness, and he could now see quite well. He saw clearly the outlines of the horses, most of them lying down, but two standing on the side nearest him. Suddenly, the peculiar spell, or premonition, that he had had down by the river bank at sundown, came over him once again. He stopped short, completely hidden in the willow clump, and looked out.