Joe Burnap was perfectly familiar with the country, and Tom readily accepted him as a guide; and, as they had a common object in view, neither had good cause for mistrusting the other. They walked, without stopping to rest, till the sun set behind the mountains towards which they were travelling.  
“I reckon we needn’t hurry now,” said Joe, as he seated himself on a rock.
 
“I don’t think there is any danger of their catching us,” replied Tom, as he seated himself beside his fellow-traveller. “Can you tell me where we are?”
 
“I reckon I can. There ain’t a foot of land in these yere parts that I hain’t had my foot on. I’ve toted plunder of all sorts through these woods more’n ten thousand times.”
 
“Well, where are we?” asked Tom, whose doubts in regard to the locality had not yet been solved.
 
In the pressure of more exciting matters, he had not attempted to explain why he did not come to Fairfax station while following the railroad.
 
“If we keep on a little while longer, I reckon we shall come to Thoroughfare Gap,” answered Joe.
 
“But where do you live? What town is your house in?” asked Tom, who had never heard of Thoroughfare Gap before.
 
“Haymarket is the nearest town to my house.”
 
“What railroad is that over there?” asked Tom, who was no nearer the solution of the question than he had been in the beginning.
 
“That’s the Manassas Gap Railroad, I reckon,” replied Joe, who seemed to be astonished at the ignorance of his companion.
 
“Just so,” added Tom, who now, for the first time, comprehended where he was.
 
When he left Sudley church, he walked at random till he came to the railroad; but he had struck the Manassas Gap Railroad instead of the main line, and it had led him away from the great body of the rebels, though it also conducted him away from Washington, where he desired to go. He was perplexed at the discovery, and at once began to debate the question whether it was advisable for him to proceed any farther in this direction.
 
“I suppose you are a union man—ain’t you?” said Tom, after he had considered his situation for some time.
 
Instead of answering this question, Joe Burnap raised his eyes from the ground, and fixed his gaze intently upon Tom. He stared at him for a moment in doubt and silence, and then resumed his former attitude.
 
“You don’t want to fight for the south,” added Tom; “so I suppose you don’t believe in the Southern Confederacy.”
 
“I don’t want to fight for nuther of ’em,” replied Joe, after a moment of further consideration. “If they’ll only let me alone, I don’t keer which beats.”
 
His position was certainly an independent one, and he appeared to be entirely impartial. The newspapers on either side would not have disturbed him. Patriotism—love of country—had not found a resting place in his soul. Tom had not, from the beginning, entertained a very high respect for the man; but now he despised him, and thought that a rebel was a gentleman compared with such a character. How a man could live in the United States, and not feel an interest in the stirring events which were transpiring around him, was beyond his comprehension. In one word, he so thoroughly despised Joe Burnap, that he resolved, at the first convenient opportunity, to get rid of him, for he did not feel safe in the company of such a person.
 
“Now which side do you fight fur?” asked Joe, after a long period of silence.
 
“For the union side,” replied Tom, promptly.
 
“What are yer doin’ here, then?”
 
“I was in the battle below, and was taken prisoner, got away, and I want to get to Washington.”
 
“I reckon this ain’t the way to git thar,” added Joe.
 
“I doubt whether I can get there any other way.”
 
Just then, Tom would have given all the money he had in the world, and all that the government owed him, for a good map of Virginia—or even for a knowledge of geography which would have enabled him to find his way by the safest route to Washington. But he had been a diligent scholar in school, and had faithfully improved the limited opportunities which had been afforded him. His mind could recall the map of Virginia which he had studied in school, but the picture was too faint to be of much practical benefit to him.
 
He had treasured up some information, derived from the newspapers, in regard to the Manassas Gap Railroad. He knew that it passed through the Blue Ridge, at the western base of which flowed the Shenandoah River: this emptied into the Potomac, which would certainly conduct him to Washington. In following these two rivers, he should have to describe nearly a circle, which was not an encouraging fact to a boy on foot, with no resources, and in an enemy’s country.
 
If he returned by the way he came, the country was filled with rebel soldiers, and he could hardly expect to pass through their lines without being captured. Difficult and dangerous as the route by the Shenandoah appeared, he decided to adopt it.
 
Joe Burnap proposed that they should have supper and opened the bag which he had filled with such eatables as he could hastily procure on leaving home. They ate a hearty meal, and then resumed their walk for another hour.
 
“I reckon we’d better stop here,” said Joe. “The Gap’s only half a mile from here, and it’s too arly in the night to go through thar yet. Thar’s too many soldiers goin’ that way.”
 
“What time will you go through?” asked Tom.
 
“Not afore midnight.”
 
“Then I’ll turn in and take a nap. I didn’t sleep any last night.”
 
“I’m agreed,” replied Joe, who seemed to be indifferent to every thing while he could keep out of the rebel army.
 
Tom coiled up his body in the softest place he could find, and went to sleep. Exhausted by fatigue and the want of rest, he did not wake for many hours. He came to his senses with a start, and jumped upon his feet. For a moment, he could not think where he was; but then came the recollection that he was in the country of his enemies............