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"There's no use in our showing ourselves any more than is necessary," he said. "Rather than risk our necks, we had better go on empty stomachs till we reach Chattanooga." But such a look of disappointment crept over the faces of George and Macgreggor, and even seemed to be reflected in the shaggy countenance of Waggie, that Watson relented.

This they pursued amid many hardships, not the least of which was hunger. Even poor Waggie grew emaciated. First they reached the banks of the Chattahoochee River, after which they secured a boat and rowed their way down via the Apalachicola River, to Apalachicola, Florida, on the Gulf of Mexico.

When he barks in a place where there's supposed to be nothing but powder the thing doesn't seem quite logical. It throws discredit on an otherwise plausible story. Let us stop a couple of miles from here, near Adairsville, do some wire-cutting, release Waggie, and see how the fellows are getting along in the baggage car."

They started to walk briskly up the incline, followed by Waggie. Suddenly they heard a sound that instinctively sent a chill running up and down George's spine. "What's that?" he asked. "Some animal?" Watson gave a grim, unpleasant laugh. "It's a hound," he answered. "Come on; we don't want that sort of gentleman after us. He'd be a rougher animal to handle than Waggie."

Watson remained behind; he could not believe that it was the dog. In the course of several minutes George came running back. He was holding in his hands a little animal that resembled a drowned rat. It was Waggie very wet, very bedraggled, but still alive. "Well, if that isn't a miracle!" cried Watson.

He released his hold of Watson and by a quick movement swung Waggie to the upturned bottom of the boat, near the keel. The tiny animal gave a bark that said "Thank you," as plainly as if he had spelled out every letter of the two words. George again seized Watson and clung to the boat more tightly than before. The soldier gradually came back to consciousness.

"You'll admit," said Lightfoot, "that I was too clever for you?" There was no answer. George picked up Waggie. "Can I take my dog along with us, wherever we go?" he asked. The Major suddenly advanced towards George, and patted the tiny animal. "Hello! Waggie, how are you, old man?" he cried. George gasped. "How on earth did you know Waggie's name?" he asked.

"I'll never forget the appealing look in his eyes as he went sailing past me." "Do you hear that?" cried George. "Hear what? Some one after us again?" "No; it's a dog barking!" "Why, it sounds like Waggie, but it can't be he. He's gone to another world." "No, he hasn't," answered George. He forgot his weakness, and started to run down the bank, in the direction whence the sound proceeded.

Watson and George were soon safely ensconced for the night in the minister's hayloft, with Waggie slumbering peacefully on top of a mound of straw. "I think we are more comfortable than our pursuers who are running around the country," said George. He was stretched out next to Watson on the hay, and over him was an old horse-blanket. "Thanks to dear old Buckley," answered Watson.

Into one of these baggage cars the majority of the party climbed, shutting the doors at either end after them, while the two men who were to serve as brakemen stationed themselves upon the roof. Watson and Macgreggor were in this car, while George, with Waggie in his pocket, was standing in the tender, his handsome face aglow with excitement, and his eyes sparkling like stars. "All ready!