They paused at the end of the wide and gleaming hallway, staring out across the splendid campus at the rolling black sky. "Rain," grumbled the Major. "And my horse is a bad mudder. I've got to be in Fredericksburg by nine to make connections." The first big drops came sailing down. "Heck! Hope my cape is in the saddlebag." The three hurried past a magnificent group of marble statuary that depicted Grant surrendering to Lee. Beside them stood General Mosby with his once incredible home-made grease-gun. * * * * * When his leisurely feast was done the Irritant launched himself in the direction of home and before he had coasted a single thousand years or so was fast asleep.