"Bob," he said to the soldier lounging next him, "whut wus it thet staff officer sed ter ther leftenant? I didn't just git ther straight of it."

The man, a debonair young fellow, stroked his little black moustache reflectively.

"Ther cove sed as how Cole's division wud be along here afore daylight, an' thet our fellers wud likely be sent out ahead of 'em."

"Whar be they agoin'?"

"The leftenant asked him, an' the cove sed as it wus a gineral advance to meet ol' Hancock at Minersville."

"Thet's good 'nough, lads," chimed in the sergeant, slapping his knee. "It means a dance down the valley after Early. I'm a guessin' we'll have a bang-up ol' fight 'fore three days more."

"Pervidin' allers thet ther Johnnies don't skedaddle fust," commented another, tartly. "Whut in thunder is ther matter with them hosses?" he asked suddenly, rising and peering over into the bushes beyond the hut, where a noise of squealing and kicking had arisen.

"Oh, the bay filly is probably over the rope agin," returned the sergeant, lazily. "Sit down, Sims, an' be easy; you're not on hoss guard ternight."