along the edge of the wood, walking his horse slowly. The rider was not a soldier, but beyond that fact, evidenced by lack of uniform, I could make no guess as to his identity, although I believed him one of Cowan's guerrillas. A gun, poised and ready, forked out beside his horse's neck, and he leaned forward in the saddle, peering into the shadows. A few feet beyond me, he suddenly reined in his horse, and called again:
"That you, Lieutenant?"
A single figure seemed to emerge from among the trees—a mere shadow, formless and silent.
"Yes; who are you?"
"Kelly—Dean told me you were here; the damn fellow has got away, and the gurl with him."
"How do you know?"
"We've looked over every dead body, the wounded and prisoners, and searched every inch of the church—they're not thar, sir."
"By God! where could they have gone! They were there; he was anyhow, for I heard his voice. Did you talk with any of those living?"
"Thar ain't many ter talk ter. The Reb lefttenant is a goin' ter pull thro', I reckon, but he's hurt too bad ter talk. Enyhow Fox wouldn't give me no chance fer ter git nigh him. I asked a sojer, a young feller, an' he sed Wyatt an' the gurl wus both in
