"There is no time to waste," announced Andrews. "In the third tent from mine, to the right, you will find Privates Macgreggor and Watson, of the Second Ohio Volunteers. They have just offered to go with us, and I have accepted them in addition to the rest. Go to them, ask them to get you a suit of plain clothes, put it on instead of your uniform, and stick to them closely from the moment you leave camp until you meet me, as I hope you will, at Marietta. And be particularly careful to have nothing about you which could in any way lead to your identification as a Union soldier in case you should be arrested and searched." "Hurrah!" said George, half under his breath. "May we all be hurrahing this time next week," returned Andrews. "Here, George, as you go out give this letter to the sentry outside, to be sent off to-morrow in the camp mail." As he spoke he took the sealed note from the army trunk, and handed it to the boy. "It is written to the young woman I am engaged to marry," he explained, "and if we all get out of this bridge-burning business with our heads on our shoulders you can come dance at my wedding, and be my best man." "I'd dance at twenty weddings for you," enthusiastically cried George, who was beginning to have a great admiration for his new friend. "You don't want me to be married twenty times, do you, my boy?" protested Andrews, smiling. "I would do a great deal to oblige you," retorted George. Then, after warmly grasping his leader by the hand, he bounded out of the tent. The night was black, and the rain was still descending in a veritable torrent, but to the lad everything seemed clear and rosy. He only saw before him a mighty adventure--and that, to his ardent, youthful spirit, made the whole world appear charming. CHAPTER II NEARING THE GOAL It was the Thursday afternoon succeeding the Monday night described in the former chapter. On the north bank of the Tennessee River, not far from the town of Jasper, three drenched figures might be discerned. They were looking somewhat longingly in the direction of a white frame house not fifty yards away from the stream, which, swollen by the recent storms, was in a particularly turbulent mood. There was nothing very attractive about the building save that it suggested shelter from the rain without, and that the smoke curling up from its large chimney held forth vague hopes of a palatable supper. Certainly there was little in the landscape itself to tempt any one to remain outdoors. The three wanderers seemed to be of this opinion, for they suddenly made a move towards the house. They were roughly dressed, their clothes were soaking, and their high boots bore the evidence of a long, muddy tramp across country. "Well," grumbled one of them, a thick-set, middle-aged man, with a good-humored expression and a four-days' growth of iron-gray beard on his face; "why did I leave home and home cooking to enlist in the army and then wander over the earth like this?"