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Updated: June 24, 2025
"U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General." These instructions did not alter my line of march for the morrow, and I trusted matters would so come about as not to require compliance with those portions relative to the railroads and to joining Sherman; so early on the 29th I moved my cavalry out toward Ream's Station on the Weldon road, Devin commanding the First Division, with Colonels Gibbs, Stagg, and Fitzhugh in charge of the brigades; the Third Division under Custer, Colonels Wells, Capehart and Pennington being the brigade commanders.
Even after the confetti had sprinkled her black hair until it reminded me of Skeet's blossom wreath, infinitely multiplied, I still saw the glances through the eye-holes of masks follow us wonderingly. Opposite the city hall, where we must cross to get to the Capehart street, we were again almost stopped by the dense crowd.
As we neared the Capehart cottage, on its quiet side street about half a block from the garage, there was Barbara under the apple boughs at the gate, talking to some man whose back was to us.
He went down clawing the air, crumpled into a bunch of clothes at the side of the road. "You wanted the Chink, didn't you, Bill?" This was Worth, facing Jim Edwards's torch, fumbling for his handkerchief. "I heard you, and I thought you wanted him." "It's Fong Ling!" bawled Capehart. "Sure we wanted him and whatever that was he was carrying. Where is it? Did he drop it?"
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