"I reckon I must," said Mark; "but I remember little about it. It was this way: We whipped them the first day; that is, Price's army did. Before the battle, McCullough's men--and he had a larger army than Price--made fun of our appearance and said they would show us how to fight, but they ran like sheep, while we drove the Yankees before us. We thought the victory ours. But with McCullough out of the way, the next morning the whole Yankee army attacked us, and we had to retreat. The retreat became a rout. I was wounded and left on the field for dead. When I came to it was night and the stars were shining. I staggered to my feet and was fortunate enough to catch a stray horse and, by taking a defile through the hills, was able to get away. I stopped at a house and had my wounds roughly dressed. It was reported that the Yankee cavalry were scouring the country, picking up the fugitives, and, although I was so weak from my wounds I could hardly stand, I determined to push on. Then my head began to feel strange: I saw all sorts of things. From that time until I came to and found myself here, I have no remembrance, how I got here, or how long it was after the battle." "The battle had been fought about two weeks when you put in an appearance," said Mr. Chittenden. "I must have stopped, and got some rest during that time," said Mark. "But where--it's all a blank. I feel I owe my life to you, Mr. Chittenden. Not many would be as kind to a poor friendless soldier as you have been to me. I feel----" "No thanks, my boy; you must stay with us until you get entirely well." "I reckon I will have to," replied Mark, with a smile. "I don't feel much like traveling." There seemed to be something troubling Mark, and at last he asked Mr. Chittenden what had become of the clothes he wore when he came. "Burnt up, Mark." Mark gave a convulsive start and looked as if he were going to faint. "There, don't worry; I'll see you have much better ones; those you wore were in awful condition," replied Mr. Chittenden. "But--but what became of what was in the pockets?" Mark asked the question with a visible effort to appear calm. "All safe, nothing disturbed. I gave orders that nothing should be touched until we saw whether you lived or died." Mark looked relieved, but he only said: "There is nothing to worry about; but I had a little money in my pockets, and it might have been taken from me while I was wandering, not myself." "We will see," said Mr. Chittenden, and he got the articles which had been taken from Mark's clothing. Mark hastily glanced them over and said, "It's all right. I am glad there is money enough here to pay you, in part, for your trouble." "None of that, Mark. I will throw you out of the house if you ever say pay again. In fact, I would take it as an insult," said Mr. Chittenden.