Dick with his two young comrades sat beneath an oak and ate the warm food and drank the hot coffee the camp cook brought to them. They had escaped without hurt, and they were very happy over the achievement of the day. The night was crisp, filled with starshine, and the cooking fires had been built along a long line, stretching away like a series of triumphant bonfires. "I felt this morning that we would win," said Dick. "I've felt several times that we would win, when we didn't," said Pennington. "But this time I felt it right. They say that Stonewall Jackson always communicated electricity to his men, and I think our Little Phil has the same quality. Since we first came to him here I haven't doubted that we would win, and when I saw him and Grant talking I knew that we'd be up and doing." "It's the spirit that Grant showed at Vicksburg," said Warner, seriously. "Little Phil--I intend to call him that when I'm not in his presence, because it's really a term of admiration--is another Grant, only younger and on horseback." "It's fire that does it," said Dick. "No, Frank, I don't mean this material fire burning before us, but the fire that makes him see obstacles little, and advantages big, the fire that makes him rush over everything to get at the enemy and destroy him." "Well spoken, Dick," said Warner. "A bit rhetorical, perhaps, but that can be attributed to your youth and the region from which you come." "It's a great pity, George, about my youth and the region from which I come. If so many youths in blue didn't come from that same region the whole Mississippi Valley might now be in the hands of the Johnnies." "Didn't I tell you, Dick, not to argue with him?" said Pennington. "What's the use? New England has the writers and when this war is ended victoriously they'll give the credit of all the fighting to New England. And after a while, through the printed word, they'll make other people believe it, too." "Then you Nebraskans and Kentuckians should learn to read and write. Why blame me?" said Warner with dignity. Colonel Winchester joined them at that moment, having returned from a brief council with Sheridan and his officers. Dick, without a word, passed him a plate of hot ham and a tin cup of sizzling coffee. The colonel, who looked worn to the bone but triumphant, ate and drank. Then he settled himself into an easy place before one of the fires and said: "A messenger has gone to General Grant with the news of our victory, and it will certainly be a most welcome message. The news will also be sent to the nearest telegraph station, and then it will travel on hundreds of wires to every part of the North, but while it's flashing through space we'll be riding forward to new battle." "I expected it, sir," said Dick. "I suppose we advance again at dawn."