After a long conversation, Mitchel and I returned to the working-party down the river. The burnt remnants of the old railroad bridge and the rapidly rising timbers of the new had now a deeper interest than ever. The completion of this bridge and the burning of some others far in the South were the two events for which that whole division, whose tents dotted the meadows behind us, was unconsciously waiting. My head was full of conjectures and plans as I walked back through the twilight to join my messmates in the tent. I could talk to no one of what I had heard, but as I lay awake that night a most important resolution took shape. I was weary of the slow movement of the army, and of the monotony of a private soldier's service. While trying carefully to do all my duty, and winning a fair degree of approval from my officers, I yet had no taste for military affairs. If by a little extra hazard I could do more for the country, while getting rid of distasteful routine and entering into a new sphere of work, I was more than willing to accept all the hazard involved. It was too late to take part in the present attempt, but I resolved to be prepared for any opportunity of the kind that might again offer. Accordingly, in the forenoon of the next day I went up to regimental headquarters and told Colonel L. A. Harris, of the Second Ohio, that I had a favor to ask of him. Major (since General) Anson G. McCook, in whose company I had served during the first three months of the war, was also present. I told them I had ascertained that some of our men had been sent out on secret service lately, and that if any similar details should be made in the future, I wanted the opportunity of being included. Major McCook, while saying some kind things about me, intimated a doubt whether my defective vision--I was very near-sighted--might not be a hindrance on any perilous service. Colonel Harris, however, took a different view of the matter, saying he thought that if I dressed in citizen's clothes, and wore my spectacles (as I was accustomed to do even in the ranks), no person in the South would suspect me of being a soldier, and I was thus only the better fitted for any secret service. McCook did not press his objection, and after learning the reason for my request and trying in vain to find the source of my information, Colonel Harris said,-- "Pittenger, I don't know that we will ever send any more men out of camp in this manner, but I will give my promise that if we do, you shall be the first man called upon."