"What has become of the guerillas?" I asked in wonderment, turning as I spoke to face the Federal corporal who lay on the other side of me. "Is it possible they have given up?"

"I think not, Captain," he replied respectfully, saluting as he would one of his own officers. "They were there just before the light came, and I saw a dozen or more stealing along behind the fence not five minutes ago. See, there is a squad of them now, huddled together back of where the stable stood."

I noticed them as he spoke, and their movements instantly aroused my suspicion.

"Screw your eye close to the corner of the pane," I ordered hurriedly, "and see what you make out toward the front of the house."

He did as directed, and for a moment continued to gaze silently into the gray dawn.

"Well?" I asked impatiently.

"There's men out there sure, plenty of 'em," he reported slowly. "It looks to me mighty like the end of a line of battle, right there by that big magnolia-tree. Anyhow, there must be all of twenty fellows lying close together between there and where the corner of the house shuts off my view. I don't see none this side anywhere, unless it's a shooter or two hiding along the fence where the vines are thick."