“I need to check on some road information with Herold,” John told Lou back in Washington. “You remember him? The erstwhile Marine Band leader? He’s one of the sharpest guides around, knows the lower counties like the back of his hand. Better’n me, I lay, and I lived there all my life. I’m always looking for a new route to avoid Yankee cavalry patrols. If a body ever had a mind to pass through Southern Maryland, sight unseen, Herold would be the man to have at your side.”
Lou heaved a wistful sigh. What a romantic life, next to my own dreary existence. Teaching day and night, not enough money to have fun on, everything geared to daily survival. It ate away at him like a canker. Seeing John so busy all the time, surrounded by intriguing people, with all this responsibility—he hungered to be
