Noel looked cautiously out of the window in the room, and was aware that a full guard had been established to patrol the place. At least four of the Confederate soldiers were assigned to this task, and each one was responsible for only one side of the house. The guard that was inside and had charge of the door was good-natured and looked at his Yankee prisoners with undisguised interest. It was plain that he did not have any fear of the young prisoners attempting to escape. Such an effort would be worse than useless, for at least twenty men were in the band, and the prisoners themselves now were unarmed. "Whar yo' from?" inquired the guard. "From New York State," answered Noel quietly. "I always heard that was a right sma't State. How many Yanks might there be in it?" "Enough to put an end to this war if they all would turn out," said Noel. "That can't be so, sir," said the guard solemnly. Noel in the dim light looked more closely at the soldier. He was more than usually stout and his good nature was apparent, not only in the tones of his voice, but in the friendly way in which he regarded his charges. "Daggone! I don't believe the Yanks can fight, and yet I saw one the other day who was a great sight and had all gone to pieces." "Who was he? What about him?" inquired Noel, aware that he was expected to follow up the implied question of the good-natured guard. "Why, he had lost one hand; one leg had been shot away; he had only one eye; he had broken some bones, and a part of his liver had been cut out of him, and yet he was ready to fight to the last." "I should n't think he would know who he was," said Dennis. "Faith! An' ye say he had only one arm, one leg, one eye? An' how about his ears?" "They were both all right," replied the guard. "His nose looked, though, as if he dragged it along the ground." "How did it all happen?" inquired Noel. "Why, he had been in two battles, and the surgeons had been at work at him. What our men did not do the surgeons thought they would finish. The poor chap had to leave the army, but he was game all the way through. What do you suppose will happen to him in the Resurrection?" "I haven't looked quite as far ahead as that," said Noel. "'Tis strange," broke in Dennis, "how much a man can lose of himself, and still be the same man. Faith! I wouldn't know, if I lost me arm and me leg and me head and me eyes, whether I was Dennis O'Hara or somebody else." "The fellow was game all through, as I said," continued the guard. "I'm a sharpshooter," he added abruptly. "Are you?" inquired Noel quickly, though he endeavored to conceal his interest in the simple statement. Did the man know anything concerning the skill of Dennis and himself with the rifle? His gun, of which Noel had been exceedingly proud, had been taken from him. Whether or not the guard had any suspicions concerning his skill, the fact remained that without any kind of a weapon those suspicions mattered little.