Your right to promotion is a mathematical certainty, and I can demonstrate it with numerous formulae from the little algebra which even now is in the inside pocket of my tunic." "Don't draw the algebra!" exclaimed Pennington.

"We take your word for it, of course." "I shouldn't want to be a captain," said Dick sincerely, "unless you fellows became captains too." Further talk was interrupted by the necessity for care in making the steep descent into the valley, where the fires were blazing anew from the fresh wood which the young soldiers in their triumph had thrown upon the coals.

Nor did Colonel Winchester and his senior officers make any effort to restrain them, knowing that a little exultation was good for youth, after deeds well done.
It was still snowing lazily, but the flames from a dozen big fires filled the valley with light and warmth and illuminated the sullen faces of the captives.

They were a sinister lot, arrayed in faded Union or Confederate uniforms, the refuse of highland and lowland, gathered together for robbery and murder, under the protecting shadow of war.
Their hair was long and unkempt, their faces unshaven and dirty, and they watched their captors with the restless, evasive eyes of guilt.

They were herded in the center of the valley, and Colonel Winchester did not hesitate to bind the arms of the most evil looking.
"What are you going to do with us ?" asked one bold, black-browed villain.
"I'm going to take you to General Sheridan," replied the colonel.
"I'm glad I don't have the responsibility of deciding your fate, but I think it very likely that he'll hang some of you, and that all of you richly deserve it." The man muttered savage oaths under his breath and the colonel added: "Meanwhile you'll be surrounded by at least fifty guards with rifles of the latest style, rifles that they can shoot very fast, and they are instructed to use them if you make the slightest sign of an attempt to escape.