"Heaven forgive me," he mused, half sadly, "if I am leading these boys into a death trap." But as a sudden flash of lightning illuminated the wet landscape, as with the brightness of day, there came into the leader's strong face a look of calm resolution. "It's worth all the danger," he added. * * * * * An hour later George Knight came running into the tent which Andrews occupied in the camp on Duck River. The leader was enveloped in a woolen overcoat, and on his well-shaped head was a slouch hat of the kind generally worn by Southerners. By the dim, sickly light of the candle which sputtered on a camp stool it could be seen that he had been writing, for pen, ink and a sealed letter were spread out upon the top of a leathern army trunk. "Well," cried Andrews, picking up the candle from its tin socket and flashing it in the radiant face of the boy. "Ah! No need to ask you! I see by your dancing eyes that you have wheedled old Mitchell into allowing you to do a foolish thing." The smile on the lad's face vanished. "Don't you want me to go along with you?" he asked, in an injured tone. The leader replaced the candle in the socket and then took one of George's hands between his own strong palms. "George," he said cordially, "you're a boy after my own heart, and I'd like nothing better than to have you for a companion; but it's because I do like you that I'm sorry you are about to run such a risk--and that's the truth. How did you contrive to persuade the General?" George seated himself on Andrews' bed, and laughed. "It was hard work at first," he explained, "but after he had refused me twice I said to him: 'General, if you were a boy in my place, and had heard of this expedition, what would you do?' 'By all the stars,' he said, 'I would run away to it rather than miss it--and get shot afterwards as a deserter, I suppose.' 'Then don't put me under the temptation of running away,' said I. At this the General laughed. Then he said: 'Well, tell Andrews you can go--and that I'll never forgive him if he lets anything happen to you. After all, the Confederates would never hang a child like you.'" "So he too calls you a child!" laughed Andrews. "Of course I'm not a child," cried George proudly, as he jumped from the bed and stood up very straight, to make himself look as tall as possible; "but the General may call me a six-weeks' old baby if he only lets me go along with you."