"Keep it up, Star!" he urged. "Go it, Star! We're almost there, old boy. Go it, Star!" But there was little need of urging; Star's forelegs were reaching out mechanically for the road, clipping it off in huge sections. Each leap seemed like a convulsion. His neck was outstretched and his head was thrust forward as though he were devouring the road. Tom did not look back, but he cast out short, broken sentences to console his pursuer. "Huh! Race me--on that hunk o'--dog meat. Get a--_horse_! If you want to--race me--get a--_horse_. A horse that can--_run_! We'll race--anything that--wears four legs. Won't we--Star? Huh!" Presently he eased Star's gait, for the horse was beginning to breath too heavily. "Guess they won't bother about us," he remarked. "Wonder how much ground we covered then. Must be pretty close...." "_Halt!_" It was a cry that brought a yell of exultation to Tom's lips. There was no mistaking it. No civilian could say halt in that tone. Tom pulled on the reins and Star planted his feet; they went sliding past the Sentry with his rifle glinting in the moonlight. "Halt there!" came the second warning as Star came to a stop. "Put your hands up!" Tom dropped the reins and raised his hands. Star, almost winded, seemed propped upon his legs, rather than standing upon them. His head drooped and each breath came as a great heave. "Who are you?" demanded the Sentry. "Friend," answered Tom. "Password?" "Haven't got it. I'm...." "Keep your hands up," interrupted the Sentry; then he bawled out: "Sergeant o' the gua-r-r-d. Post number-r _six_." The call was repeated as though by an echo. "I'm one of the railroad raiders," continued Tom. "I'm...." "What?" yelled the Sentry. "Are you one of _them_? Say! Put those hands down and let me shake 'em. Say!" CHAPTER TWENTY TOM REPORTS AT HEADQUARTERS The Sergeant, with four men, came on the double quick, and found Tom and the Sentry standing in the middle of the road talking. The Sentry's gun stood neglected, leaning against a tree. "What does this mean, Cummins?" demanded the Sergeant. "Here's one of the raiders," answered the Sentry, as though that was enough to account for almost any negligence. And it was enough, for the Sergeant forgot the Sentry completely. He grabbed Tom's hand. "That was a wonderful job you boys did down there," he said. "We've been waiting for you and watching all along the line." "Am I the first one through?" asked Tom. "I guess so. Are there any more behind you?" "I don't know. I got separated from the others. There were three of us, and the other two were captured. Are you sure that none of them reached the line on the other side of Chattanooga?" he asked anxiously. "We haven't heard of any," answered the Sergeant. "The whole country's waiting for you, and I guess we'd have heard of it if any had come through the lines. Say, when the news of the raid came out, the North just went crazy with excitement."