He had the engineers under Captain Lee reconnoitring the enemy yesterday. They found a mule trail leading from San Augustine through the lava to the batteries at Contreras. Evidently the ground has proved difficult for artillery, as I noted the reports of only three light guns on our side."
"Do you think we've been whipped, lieutenant?" Jerry asked, his heart sinking.
"N-no, not exactly whipped, in the true sense of the word," Lieutenant Grant soberly said. "There's been no call upon us for reinforcements, and it did not sound like a very heavy battle. But the way this army is fixed, cut loose from communications and over two hundred miles in the enemy's country, if we don't take a place when we really attack it we might as well be whipped. We can't afford to lose men for nothing."
"We'll win yet, then; won't we, sir?"
"General Scott is there. You may be sure that he'll find a way. A small force can hold San Antonio in check. It is acting strictly on the defensive."
"If troops are sent for, I hope they'll be the First Brigade," Jerry blurted.
"Yes," smiled Lieutenant Grant; "so do I."
The regulation night's rain was commencing to fall. Jerry hastened back for the stone barn and supper. That was rather a gloomy mess. They all somehow knew that the attack over at Contreras had failed; all wondered what Old Fuss and Feathers would do next; what regiments had been cut up, why the First Division had not been given a chance, and so forth, and so forth.
"Ah, weel, to-morrow 'll be a bludy day, I'm
