“Don’t rile yerself,” said D’ri; “you need rest.”

“No, I don’t, nuther,” said the captain.

“Ye’ll hev t’ hev it, anyway,” said D’ri.

“This beats h—!” the captain answered, with a laugh.

A feeling of alarm began to spread.  The adjutant was standing in a group of men at headquarters soon after midnight.  They were ears under in the mystery.  The escaped soldier came running toward them out of the dark.  He was breathing heavily; his leg was bleeding and sore.

“Wall, what is it?” the adjutant demanded.

“D’ri!” the man gasped, and dropped down exhausted.

“D’ri?” the officer inquired.

“D’ri!” the man repeated.  “It’s thet air man they call D’ri.  He’s roped in everybody thet come his way.  They ‘re all settin’ on the hill up there beside him.  Won’t let a man move when he gits him.”

The adjutant snickered as he spat an oath.  He was made of iron, that man Church.

“Post a guard around him,” said he, turning to an officer.  “The dem fool ’d tek the hull garrison ef we did n’t.  I ’ll go ‘n’ try t’ pull him off his perch.”

“He ’ll lay ye up,” said the returned private, baring his bloody leg.  “Eff ye try t’ fool with him ye’ll limp.  See what he done t’ me.”

The adjutant swore again.

“Go t’ the hospital,” he commanded.

Then he strode away, but he did not return that night.

The moon was shining as the adjutant came, in sight and hailed the group of prisoners.

“What ye settin’ there fer?” he shouted.

“You ’ll know ’n a minute,” said one of them.

“Halt!  Who comes there?” D’ri demanded.

“Friend with—­”

“Don’t ye purten’ t’ be my friend,” D’ri answered. “’T won’t work.  Come up here ‘n’ set down.”

“Stop foolin’, man,” said the adjutant.

“I ain’t a-foolin’.”

“He ain’t a-foolin’; he means business,” said one of the prisoners.

“Don’t ye tamper with me.  I ’ll teach you—­” the adjutant threatened.

“Ain’t a-goin’ t’ tamper with ye a minute,” said D’ri.  “If ye don’t set down here quick, I ’ll put a hole in ye.”

“Lunatic! wha’ d’ ye mean?”

“I mean t’ turn ye out t’ grass a leetle while,” D’ri answered soberly.  “Ye look tired.”

The officer made at him, but in a flash D’ri had knocked him down with his musket.  The adjutant rose and, with an oath, joined the others.

“Dunno but he ’ll tek the hull garrison ’fore sunrise,” he muttered.  “Let ’em come—­might es well hev comp’ny.”

A little before daylight a man sick in the hospital explained the situation.  He had given D’ri his orders.  They brought him out on a stretcher.  The orders were rescinded, the prisoners released.

Captain Hawkins, hot to his toes with anger, took D’ri to headquarters.  General Brown laughed heartily when he heard the facts, and told D’ri he was made of the right stuff.