"They've gone after 'em, up the valley, there." Foldeen shook his head. "Dey don't do such foolishness," he objected. "Ven dey take some place like dis, den dey shtick to him. I know so much, if I do blay mid the band." "There'd be rations in the knapsacks," mused Lafe, after a pause. He had never been so hungry before in his life. "What do you say to sneaking down there, and trying to find something to eat?" he suggested. "Come on!" he added persuasively. "There's nobody down there that--nobody that we need be afraid of." "Vell, I am afraid, dot's all," responded Foldeen. "They can't do more than make us prisoners," urged the boy, "and that's better than starving to death. Come on! I'm going to make a try." The German took his companion by the arm. "See here," he explained; "ven dey catch you, dot's all right. You are prisoner; dot's all. Ven dey catch me, den it goes one, two, dree--bang, und den Foldeen Schell addends his own funeral. Dot's the difference by you und me." "Nonsense!" said Lafe. "They don't shoot anybody in the band." "Anyhow, dey shoot me out of de band," persisted Foldeen, gloomily. "I was in dot oder army myself, sometimes." The boy drew a long breath of enlightened surprise, which was almost a whistle. "Well, then, you stay here," he said, after a little, "and I'll take a look at the thing by myself." Suiting the action to the word, Lafe laid hold of the stoutest saplings, and lowered himself down by his arms to the ledge below. The footing was not quite easy; but by hanging to the vines he managed to work his way obliquely across the face of the declivity, and yet keep pretty well under cover of the bushes. Suddenly, emerging from the thicket, he found himself quite inside the breastwork, which he had entered from the open rear. The more terrible signs of the conflict which had been waged here a few hours before forced themselves upon his attention, first of all. He braced himself to walk past them, and to go straight to the heap of knapsacks piled up among the branches in the corner. Lifting one of the haversacks, he opened it. There was a tin cup on top, and some woollen things which might be socks. Pushing his hand under these, he came upon some bread, and paused to express his content by a smile. "Drop it--you!" [Illustration: "DROP IT--YOU!"] A loud, peremptory voice close at his shoulder caused the boy to turn with alarmed abruptness. A burly man, with a rough, sandy stubble of beard about his face, had come into the breastwork--or perhaps had been hidden there all the while. Lafe's first impulse was one of satisfaction at noting that the stranger wore the blue Union uniform. Then he looked into the man's face, and the instinct of pleasure died suddenly away. CHAPTER III. THE BOUNTY-JUMPER.