"Then I wuz right 'bout you needin' a horse with wings. An' I guess all the men in your army need horses with wings. Don't be in such a tarnal hurry. You're goin' to stay right up here with us, boarders, so to speak, till the war is over." Harry laughed. "Kind of you," he said, "but here is the stable and do you open the stall doors one by one, and let me see the horses. At the first sign of any trick I pull the trigger." "Well, as I don't like violence I'll show you the horses. Here's the gray mare, five years old, swift but can't last long. This is old Rube, nigh onto ten, mighty strong, but as balky as a Johnny Reb hisself. Don't want him! No? Then I think that's about all." "No it's not! You open that last stall door at once!" The farmer made a wry face, and threw back the door with a slam. Harry still covering the man with the pistol that couldn't go off, saw a splendid bay horse about four years old. "Holding out on me, were you?" he said. "Did you think a Confederate officer could be fooled in that manner?" "I reckon I oughtn't to have thought so. I've always heard that the rebels had mighty good eyes for Yankee horseflesh." "I'll let that pass, because maybe it's true. Now, saddle and bridle him quicker than ever before in your life." The farmer did so, and Harry took care to see that the girth was secure. "At how much did you value this horse?" he asked. "I did put him down at two hundred dollars, but I reckon he's worth nothin' to me now." "Here's your money. When General Lee goes through the enemy's country he pays for what he takes." He thrust a roll of good United States bills into the astonished man's hand, and sprang upon the horse. Then he turned from the stable and rode swiftly up the road, but not so swiftly that he did not hear a bullet singing past his ears. A backward glance showed him an elderly farmer in his night clothes standing on his porch and reloading his rifle. "Well, I can't blame you, I suppose," said Harry. "You can guess pretty well what I am, and it's your business to stop me." But he rode fast enough to be far beyond the range of a second bullet, and maintained a good pace for a long time, through hilly and wooded country. His uniform dried upon him, and his hardy form felt no ill result from the struggle in the river. The horse was strong and spirited, and Harry knew that he could carry him without weariness to Lee. He looked upon his mission as already accomplished, but his ambition to reach the commander-in-chief first was yet strong.