In the Saddle

"All right; give the captain my order to march at a gallop," replied the commander, as he mounted his own horse.

The column moved; and the major soon reached the head of it, where he took his place by the side of the captain.

"The enemy have started upon this road," said he. "Whether or not they have sent another detachment around by that back road can hardly be known till we find them there."

"The captain of the Texan Rangers does not seem to have any contempt for strategy, as was reported of him," replied Captain Gordon. "I have no doubt his scouts informed him that the Riverlawn Cavalry were in camp on the plantation."

"And I have no doubt now, from the way things have worked, that the detachment were sent round to take us in the flank. They don't seem to have made any connection with Captain Titus's company, and did not expect to find one of our companies at the bridge."

There was some confusion ahead, and the company were thrown back. The column had overtaken the prisoners and the baggage. The captain sent forward an order for both to take the side of the road. The major saw his brother drawn up with the others, and he shouted "Noah!" as he was passing; but the commander took no notice of him.

CHAPTER XIV

The captain was so imprudent that he was as likely as otherwise to reproach him, call him a thief, or something of that kind, as he had done before, in the presence of his command. He had been captured in the act of committing a dastardly outrage, as well as being in the military service of the enemy. He was willing to extend to him every reasonable privilege; but he was a prisoner of war, to take the mildest view of his condition, and the major was not a man who could be conveniently blind to an obvious duty.

The first company proceeded on its rapid march, and in a short time reached the cross-roads, where it was halted, with the head of the column near the camp at the railroad bridge. Captain Truman hastened to the major as soon as he halted, and the commander extended his hand to him.

"I commend you, Captain Truman, for the good work you have accomplished; and I thank you for the skill, courage, and devotion with which you have done your duty. But the enemy are in motion in this direction on the south road, and we have no time for anything but preparation for the immediate future. It is possible that a detachment of the enemy may approach by the east road."

"I have a picket stationed a mile up that road, and we shall have early notice of any force coming from that direction, Major Lyon," replied the captain of the second company, which had just been sent back by the order of which Artie had been the bearer.

"Very well. You have fought a severe fight, Captain; in what condition are your men?" inquired the commander.

"They are in excellent condition; for they have found that they are fully the equals of the Texans on fighting ground, and they are ready and anxious to meet the enemy again. We have buried our dead, and our wounded are doing well."

Major Lyon had carefully studied the face of the country for several miles in the vicinity of the planter's mansion, from his elevated position on the building, and had observed it for the present situation as he rode down from the plantation. He had confidently expected an attack while he was near the house of Mr. Barkland. He had arranged his plan to receive the assault; and Lieutenant Belthorpe, with one-third of the company, had been sent around through the grove to a position behind a knoll, which would effectually conceal him from the enemy till the time came for him to assail the Texans in the flank and rear.

Captain Gordon had heartily approved this plan, and they had force enough to carry it out successfully. Major Lyon regretted very much that the issue had not come in the manner he had anticipated. The plan of the captain of the Rangers had evidently failed because he had not heard from the detachment sent by the hill road, as the natives called it. He must have had some means of knowing where this flanking party were, or he would have moved sooner. Probably a swift rider was to have been sent back when the force reached the cross-roads; but they had not got so far as that. His first news must have been the defeat of this portion of his command.

"Captain Truman, have you noticed a considerable knoll on the left of the south road, just above the cross-roads?" asked the major.

"I have; and I thought of posting my reserve under Lieutenant Gadbury there; but I found it was too far off for the time at my command," replied the captain.

"Can it be reached without going by the south road?"

"Very easily; by riding through this field, where we were posted this morning, crossing the east road, and then through a valley, which will conceal the force till they reach the shelter of the knoll."

"How many men can you muster in your company?"

"About eighty, if you are to remain in this vicinity; for ten or fifteen will be a sufficient guard for the prisoners."

"Then you will march your available force to the point indicated. I see that you have hoisted the American flag on the railroad bridge," added the major.

"It is the camp flag, and I wanted it in the most sightly place I could find," replied the captain.

"It will answer a double purpose, then. Could you see it from behind the knoll?"

"Perfectly; we did not get the flag-pole elevated till half an hour ago."

"I shall send Deck to lower that flag, and remain by the staff till I give him the signal to hoist it again. Then you will march to the south road with all speed, and attack the enemy in the rear or on the flank."

"I understand you perfectly, Major Lyon, and your order shall be carried out to the letter," replied Captain Truman, as he saluted, and hurried to his company, which had been formed in the field by the side of the road.

"Dexter!" called the commander, when he had found his son in the ranks.

Both of the boys had been used as messengers during the morning, and this service had led them into the most dangerous positions; and both of them had fought like heroes as volunteers while their company was at the plantation.

Deck came out of his place in the ranks, saluted his father, and expected to be called upon for more messenger service, hoping it would lead him into the thickest of the action, as it had before.

"Do you see that flag on the railroad bridge, Dexter?" asked his father, pointing at the ensign.

"I do; and I take off my cap to it," replied Deck, suiting the action to the word.

"You will go to it and haul it down, my son."

"Haul down the American flag!" exclaimed Deck.

"As long as it is not for a surrender or the abandonment of the camp, you need have no scruples about it," replied the major, with a smile at the boy's objection. "You will obey the order, and you will remain at the staff. When you see me wave my handkerchief three times in the air, you may set your conscience at ease by hoisting the flag again."

The commander made the signal over his plumed hat, so that the messenger would be able to recognize it when it was given in the fight, if there should be one, of which he was not altogether sure after the disappointment of the morning.

"I shall see that signal from the bridge if it is made three miles off."

"Keep your eyes wide open after the engagement begins; for it is a signal, really an order from me, of the utmost importance, and the result of the action may depend upon it," added the major very impressively. "I have called upon you for this service because I know I can depend upon you, Dexter."

"Of course I shall do my duty and obey my orders to the best of my ability," replied Deck; but judging from the expression on his face he was not pleased with the mission assigned to him.

"You can go to the bridge at once; but you will not haul the flag down till I make the signal agreed upon to you," added Major Lyon.

"But, father, do you expect to fight this battle without me?" asked Deck, with a very cheerful smile on his face; and he would not have said as much as that to any other person, even as a joke.

"You have made yourself the hero of the day, and perhaps you ought to have a little rest," replied his father, quite as cheerfully as the son, for he took the question as it was intended.

"I don't exactly like the idea of squatting on that bridge, and looking on while there is any fighting going on," continued the young soldier.

"But the position to which I have assigned you is one of the most important on the field. I can trust you to be watchful, while another, interested in the action, might neglect his duty."

"I have nothing more to say, father," replied Deck, as he rode off in the direction of the bridge.

Major Lyon had made his dispositions and issued his orders before he spoke to his son. Captain Truman was galloping over the field towards the east road, with sixty men, which was the number finally designated for the service at the knoll. Captain Gordon had posted his men along the roads and the adjoining fields. The baggage-wagons and the prisoners had arrived from the plantations, and Captain Titus had an opportunity to rejoin his company; but the glory of his military life seemed to have passed away. He was treated the same as the rest of the prisoners, and no one took any notice of him. He was not in good odor even in his own company; for his men declared that he had deserted them the night before.

The enemy had not yet appeared; and even the pickets that had been posted a mile down the south road had not been driven in, which would be the first indication that hostilities were at hand. Those from the second company who were scouting the east road had not been heard from; and they had been ordered to proceed as far as a certain hill, where Artie had first seen the detachment sent that way.

Noon came, and the soldiers ate their dinner from their haversacks, and the horses took their oats from the grass. It was a very quiet time, and the Riverlawn battalion would have been glad to receive an order to march upon the enemy wherever they could be found. They were impatient for something to do, especially the first company, which had not yet seen any fighting.

Major Lyon improved his time as he took his lunch with Captain Truman, in listening to a fuller report of the action on the east road. The commander asked particularly in regard to the lieutenant who had fallen under the onslaught of Deck Lyon. He had been wounded in the chest by a ball, and he had gone down from a cut of the young soldier's sabre. He had been stunned by the blow, and left on the field. But he had been conveyed to the camp in the wagon with other wounded men, and the surgeon had dressed his wounds. He believed he would recover.

"I should like to see that man," said the major.

"I saw him walking about the shanty hospital not long ago. I spoke with him, and he is a very gentlemanly fellow. You can send for him if you wish, Major. But it is time for me to join my company, as I sent the men in charge of Lieutenant Gadbury; for I had to give some orders in regard to the prisoners."

"I will not send for him; but I will ride down to the hospital, which is only a few rods from the cross-roads. Captain Gordon, I wish to have some one near me to carry my orders, if need be," said the commander, as Captain Truman rode off.

"Your orderly?" asked the captain.

"I prefer Artie Lyon; I have already sent Dexter on duty upon the bridge. I am going down to the hospital; send me notice at once if any movement is apparent."

Artie was sent to him at once; but Deck had told him where he was going, and he hoped he would not be sent to join him. He followed his father to the hospital, where Dr. Farnwright received him. He asked for the Texan lieutenant; and the surgeon pointed him out, seated on a log at the side of the road.

"This is Major Lyon, commanding the squadron," said the doctor, introducing him.

The officer rose from his seat, and saluted the major very politely.

"This gentleman is Lieutenant Makepeace, of the Texan Rangers," added the surgeon.

"That does not sound like a Southern name," replied Major Lyon, and he took the hand of the wounded officer.

"I am a Northern man; but my home has been in Texas for seven years, though I came from a New England State."

"I regret to see you on the wrong side in this war, though I am sorry that you have been wounded."

"I don't know exactly how I came in this service; but I was very near being elected to the captaincy of this company, though I am not a Texan."

"Who is the commander of the company?"

"Captain Dingfield."

"There comes the picket down the hill!" exclaimed Artie, who had discovered half-a-dozen men running their horses down the descent.

"Then I must leave you; but I shall see you again," added the major, as he dashed up the road at full speed.

CHAPTER XV

In fact, there had been nothing in the present campaign which could properly be called a battle. The second company had done all the fighting so far. At the bridge a few shots had demoralized the Home Guards; and though the action in the road had been severe, it was hardly more than a skirmish. But the commander had proved before that he had abundance of courage, though he had engaged in less actual fighting than his two sons.

Major Lyon reached the position of Captain Gordon just as the pickets came in, headed by Life Knox. The men were all in position, and those of the first company were eager for the conflict; for they had done nothing, and rather envied their companions in the second company, who had fought and won a victory against a portion of the enemy. They were very much excited, and it would have suited them better if their captain had led them in a charge at once against the Texans; for the most trying position of the ordinary soldier is when he is in the presence of the enemy, and is permitted to do nothing but wait; and they had been doing that all day.

"You have been driven in, Knox," said Captain Gordon, as the sergeant saluted him.

"Not exactly driven in, Captain," replied the Kentuckian with a cheerful smile, as though events were not moving half fast enough for him. "The Texicans are marching as though they were going to a funeral, and they don't seem to be in no hurry to git here."

"But you came down the slope as though you were not going to a funeral," added the captain.

"Where are the enemy now, Knox?" asked the major.

"They are about half-way betwixt here and the mansion-house of the planter. I didn't hurry up to tell you they were coming, but to let you know that I had seen a force over on the road in the hills. I thought I saw something moving; and I climbed to the top of the tallest tree I could find, on the highest ground 'twixt here and the planter's house."

"What did you see?" demanded the major.

"I got a look through a small notch between two hills, and I saw some cavalry pass along; but I reckon I saw only the tail end on 'em, for they was out o' sight in two seconds, and I couldn't find nothin' more on 'em. I knew then why the company wasn't in no hurry."

"Then, I suppose we are in no hurry," added the major. "I see that Captain Dingfield intends to carry out his plan as he laid it out for this forenoon."

"Who?" asked the captain.

"Captain Dingfield, who commands the Texans; I learned his name from the lieutenant who was wounded. I hardly supposed he would send another flanking party by that road," replied Major Lyon, "This news calls for some change in our plans."

"I reckon that captain on the south road hain't got over fifty men with him, if he has that," continued the sergeant.

"How could you estimate the number, Knox," asked the captain.

"When I am sent out scouting, I generally find out all I can," replied the sergeant, who looked as though he felt that the correctness of his information had been questioned.

"We know you do, Knox; and we only want to know your means of arriving at a conclusion, in order to judge of the accuracy of your report," the captain explained.

"I looked them over when I climbed the tree," continued the scout with energy. "The force was just coming round a bend in the road down a hill, and I counted in fours up to forty. I don't know how many scouts they had out ahead, but I added ten to what I had counted."

"I have no doubt you are quite correct, Sergeant," added the captain. "I did not doubt your statement in the first place, and I was only curious to know how you were able to make up your estimate."

"I saw that six of you came down the hill together; have you left no pickets in front of the company?" inquired the major.

"The captain gave me nine men to scout the region over there, and six of 'em have come in, for I thought they might be wanted," answered Knox.

"You knew that we had nearly two hundred men at this point," suggested the major, who realized that the sergeant had something in his mind to which he was slow to give utterance.

"If this is a council of war, Major Lyon, I ain't in it, and I've told all I know," replied Knox. "I have reported that the Texicans is divided into two bodies, one on 'em comin' down the south road slower'n cold molasses runs, and the other's movin' over the hill road; and I reckon they ain't goin' to no funeral over yonder."

"In other words, you think the two divisions of the enemy intend to attack at the same time," added the major.

"What be they goin' over that way for if that ain't what they mean?" asked the Kentuckian in answer to the question. "But I don't feel sartin that they mean to come down here by the east road."

"What else can they do?" inquired the major, much interested in drawing out the sergeant.

"I don't reckon I'd better say anything more. I obey orders, but I don't give none," answered Knox, who was evidently afraid of thrusting himself into the counsels of his superiors. "Captain Dingbat"—

"Dingfield," interposed the captain with a smile.

"Captain Dingfield sent them men over here to knock down and burn that bridge; and I reckon he's go'n' to do it if he can."

"And I am sent here to prevent him from doing it; and I shall do so if I can. You may speak out loud, Knox, just what you wish to say," said the major rather impatiently.

"If you look at that map you had on the housetop, you will see that the hill road crosses the east road, just as this south one does here. Ain't that so, Artie? You have been over there, they say," said the sergeant, appealing to the major's aid.

"It does; I was up there some time this morning; but I don't know where it leads to," replied Artie.

"It stands to reason that it crosses this railroad somewhere within five miles of this cross-road. That's the way the Texicans are coming down here to destroy the bridge. I've said my say, and I hain't got nothin' more to say," added Knox, wheeling his horse out of the circle that surrounded the commander.

"Artie, do you know where Captain Truman is posted with his command?" asked the major in rather hurried tones.

"I do not," replied the aid, as he had now practically become, though the position was not regular for a private.

The commander pointed out the knoll behind which the captain's force had been sent.

"Follow the east road till you can see behind that hill. Captain Truman is there, and you can readily find him," continued Major Lyon. "Give him my order to move his command out to the east road, and there await further orders."

Artie's steed was well rested after his several forenoon jaunts, and he went up the slope of the road like the wind. Sergeant Knox had retired from the immediate presence of the superior officers, afraid that he was getting to be too forward for his rank. He believed that the force moving by the hill road had been ordered to the railroad. While the major was not disposed to accept his view in full, he intended to be prepared for a movement of the kind suggested by the Kentuckian.

"What do you think of the idea advanced by Knox, Captain Gordon?" asked the commander.

"Of course it is possible that he has correctly divined the intention of the enemy," replied the captain. "But it would not be wise to ignore the enemy in front of us."

"I have no intention of doing so; for I have ordered Truman to the east road, in readiness to act to the north of us, while we give our attention to the enemy in front of us. We have men enough to annihilate this force, if it is no larger than Knox states."

"I believe he is entirely correct in his figures; and I am inclined to have considerable confidence in his theory of Captain Dingfield's plan."

"Probably we have double the force of the enemy in this vicinity; and it would be a crying shame if the bridge were destroyed because we were outmanœuvred," said the major, with more than usual vigor in his speech. "There is the structure within a quarter of a mile of us, and I wonder if they intend to destroy it under our very eyes. But where are the Texans in front of us? Even at a funeral march they ought to be near enough by this time to send in our pickets."

"It begins to look as though they were amusing us while they were making arrangements to burn the bridge elsewhere," replied Captain Gordon, quite as anxious about the situation as his superior. "Artie has made quick work of his orders, for Captain Truman is half-way to the road, just coming out from behind the hill."

Major Lyon thought of Deck on the bridge in this connection, and looked in that direction. The signal for Captain Truman's command to move into the rear of the force advancing by the south road would not be needed. If he deemed it advisable, he could send part of the first company to a point near the road he had already selected. He rode to a place where the ground was a little higher than where the conference had taken place, and there made the signal above his plume upon which he had agreed with Deck and the captain of the second company. He repeated it till he had made it three times; and he could not help thinking what a relief it would be to his son to be permitted to leave this solitary post.

"A cheer for the American flag, which will be hoisted on the railroad again in a moment!" shouted Major Lyon to the soldiers near him; and the word was passed along through the column.

The cavalrymen were always ready to cheer the flag; and in a few moments the eyes of the entire company were fixed upon the flagstaff on the bridge. The major watched it with as much interest as any one present; and he was ready to join in the cheer, and to lead it off. He waited patiently for a couple of minutes, and then he wondered if his son had gone to sleep at his solitary vigil; for the flag did not mount to the proud position it had held before it was lowered.

Major Lyon waited full five minutes, but no flag appeared. He could not understand it after the careful charge he had given Deck in regard to the importance of the position to which he had been assigned. It was fortunate that the plan of receiving the assault had been changed; for Captain Truman's command would have remained behind the hill, and out of sight of the conflict, if there had been one, while his men were needed in the road.

As the hoisting of the flag was no longer needed as a signal, the major was not inclined to say anything about his son's failure to do his duty; for all his men might be needed at any moment to repel an attack on the south road, and another on the east road. But he was very indignant, as well as very much grieved, at Deck's neglect of duty; for it did not occur to him that there could be any excuse for or justification of the boy's conduct.

Major Lyon used his field-glass diligently for some time, while he was waiting for the appearance of the first company's pickets, as he had not thought to do at first. With this aid he examined the top of the bridge very closely; but he could see nothing of the absent soldier. It did not enter his mind that anything could have happened to the young man, for the bridge was a high one, and in sight of all in the ranks, and in the camp on the shore of the creek; though the stream was large enough to be called a river in any Northern State.

Close by the flagstaff, over the abutment of the bridge, was a high fence extending a short distance. Some thought it had been built where the snow was troublesome in winter; others, that it was the side of a shanty which had stood there, and only the roof and ends had been removed. If Deck was not behind this fence, he was not on the bridge, was the conclusion of his father. But a movement on the east road called his attention away from the subject.

CHAPTER XVI

The sergeant in charge of the picket reported in hot haste to the captain of the second company, by whom he had been sent out; and a moment later Artie was flying down the hill to the major, with the substance, in a short sentence, of the intelligence brought in. The commander had noticed the rapid movement on the road, though Captain Truman had come out of the field half a mile from the cross-roads. The pickets came at a furious gallop; for the sergeant, though not admitted to the counsels of the officers, was intelligent enough to understand the importance of his report.

Major Lyon, though he had begun to be alarmed at the non-appearance of Deck on the bridge, hastened back to the cross-roads, where Artie soon rode up to him. The delay of the enemy on the south road was generally understood to be caused by the non-arrival of an expected detachment from the hills. The major knew what the report of the pickets would be before it was brought to him; for his impression was that Life Knox was correct in his interpretation of the intention of the enemy. The disappearance of Deck confirmed his belief that operations had actually commenced on the bridge.

"The pickets report that a detachment of about fifty has marched north by the hill road!" shouted Artie, as soon as he came within speaking distance of his father.

"Ride back; give Captain Truman my order to march his command to the cross-roads!" added Major Lyon with more than usual energy, though he was still as cool and self-possessed as he had been all day.

Artie wheeled his horse, and in a moment he was running Miss Dolly up the slope at a breakneck speed.

"Captain Gordon!" called the major as he rode toward him.

The captain dashed up to him on the instant.

"Send Knox and his scouts to me!" added the commander.

The Kentuckian and the men he had selected for the service in which he had been engaged were at hand; and Knox saluted the major, in readiness for any duty upon which he might be sent.

"Ride to the bridge! Leave your horses below! Get up to the track with all the haste you can make! Deck was stationed there to hoist the flag at a signal from me, which I have made several times; but he does not obey the order, and I begin to fear that something has happened to him," said the major in hurried tones.

"I'll find him if he is there!" exclaimed Knox, with an expression of determination on his face.

"I think you will find a small force of the enemy near the bridge, Knox. Don't fall into any trap; I will have at least half a company up there in a few minutes."

"I will keep my eyes wide open, Major," replied the Kentuckian, as he rode off towards the bridge.

"Captain Gordon, send Lieutenant Belthorpe with half your company to the bridge. Just beyond the camp he will find a practicable road up the embankment. He will be in abundant season to receive the force approaching by the hill road."

The captain saluted his superior, and made no reply. It was evident enough to the commander that Captain Dingfield had been on the alert, and that he intended to destroy the bridge even in the face of, and under the very eyes of, the Riverlawn Cavalry, of double his own strength, though he might not be aware of its numbers. If Major Lyon did not manifest his chagrin and annoyance at the present situation, he felt it none the less.

He realized that Captain Dingfield had been amusing him all day with the prospect of a fight, while he was carrying out his plan for destroying the bridge. It was all plain enough to him now, and he wondered that he had not placed a guard on the bridge early in the morning. It looked now like a serious omission; but he hoped it was not too late to remedy the defect in his plan. What had become of Deck was a mystery he could not fathom.

After the hauling down of the flag, the major had been too fully occupied elsewhere to think of the bridge, and he had not even glanced at it till he made the signal. It had not occurred to him that the structure could be in any danger while his squadron was in sight of it. He watched the force of Lieutenant Belthorpe as they hurried by the road to the point where they could ascend to the track, and he believed he had done all that was necessary to save the bridge from destruction.

Captain Truman was approaching the cross-roads with his company, and the attack of Captain Dingfield might be expected very soon. It was necessary to make a new arrangement of the troops. The major had already formed his plan, and he wheeled his horse to join Captain Gordon and give his orders. At this moment an explosion rent the air, which made a great deal of noise, though it had not the volume of an earthquake.

Major Lyon turned his head, expecting to see the bridge a wreck, with the fragments of it flying in the air. He looked for Knox and his companions, who had been ordered to climb upon the bridge without waiting to ride around to the embankment. They had not yet mounted the abutment, and were then securing their horses near the bank of the creek. But the bridge was not a wreck, though some timbers and planks had been elevated in the air; but most of the matter that was thrown up appeared to be earth and stones.

But where was Deck? Even with the pressure of duty upon him, he could be excused for thinking of his son, who had so strangely disappeared. He watched the movements of Knox and his men. If they had been a couple of minutes later they might have been hurled from the high structure by the force of the explosion. But he was greatly relieved when he saw that they were not harmed, or at least not disabled; for he saw the tall Kentuckian running with all his might to the abutment, followed by his five men. They were all there, and they began to climb up the wall.

The head of the enemy's column had not yet appeared on the hill which shut off the view of the planter's mansion, and there was time enough for the major to make the dispositions of his force. Half of the first company were left, and the whole of the second, except the twenty men doing guard duty at the camp. The commander had in the neighborhood of a hundred and twenty-five men on the spot; and with this force he could soon annihilate the fifty troopers, more or less, who were marching to the attack, or were supposed to be doing so.

"Captain Gordon, take what is left of the first company, and make a detour to that hill on the right of the road. It is nothing more than a knoll; and you will attack them on the flank as soon as Truman engages them in the road," said the major.

"I was thinking of suggesting that as soon as you sent for Captain Truman at the knoll on the other side of the road," replied the captain, when he had ordered Gilder, his second lieutenant, to march the platoon to the place indicated.

"I have no doubt that explosion was the signal for the advance of Captain Dingfield," added the major, as he looked back at the bridge, where the sergeant and his men were still at work.

"It looks so; and the Rangers must have had some men over near the bridge who got up that attempt to blow it up. But it looks as though it was a failure," replied Captain Gordon, as he rode off to join his command.

Captain Truman, with about seventy-five troopers, was at the cross-roads, waiting for orders. The major directed the head of the company to place the troopers in the road and at the side of it, with their carbines unslung. The commander had sent Artie for a sabre; and he had taken possession of it, indicating that he did not intend to be an idle spectator to the conflict if his personal service was needed.

"Can I take my place in the ranks where I belong, father?" asked Artie.

"No, my son; I may want you at any moment to carry an order," replied Major Lyon; and possibly he thought this might be the only son left to him since the disappearance of Deck.

"There comes the head of the column!" exclaimed Captain Truman.

"Have your men all ready to fire, Captain," added the major. "But don't be in a hurry to do so. I will give you the order."

It was no longer a funeral march on the part of the enemy, for they were forcing their steeds to the utmost. The captain was in front of his platoon, and that was all the men he had. He had lost one lieutenant at the first action, and probably he had been compelled to send the second with the detachment by the hill road.

"It looks as though they intended to begin with a charge," said Captain Truman.

"Perhaps the captain will change his mind before he has gone much farther," replied the major very quietly.

The soldiers acted as though they were very impatient. The major thought the Texan captain was reckless, and was making use of fire-eating tactics instead of cool military judgment. Possibly he expected to be able to cut his way through the force in front of him, and join the one he had sent to the bridge by the hills.

Probably Captain Dingfield had not a little of the contempt for Northern soldiers which pervaded the ranks of the Confederate army at the beginning of the war. He was a brave and impulsive man, and doubtless believed that a vigorous charge would drive the Riverlawn Cavalry out of his way, as he would brush away the flies that annoyed him when he read his newspaper. The fact that one portion of his company had been soundly whipped and driven from the field appeared to have no influence over him.

"Now is your time, Captain Truman," said the major, who had waited till the enemy were more than half-way down the hill. "Have your men take good aim, and fire."

The captain gave his orders with a vim which indicated his impatience to begin his work. The carbines were all discharged almost as one, and the road was filled with the smoke of the volley; but the breeze was fresh enough to drive it away in a moment. At least seventy-five balls had been sent into the midst of the fifty men, and the troopers had been trained to do good work with their carbines.

As the smoke cleared away, it was seen that a number of the Texans had fallen from their horses, while others were reeling in their saddles. A couple of minutes later another volley was heard at the right of the road, and more of the cavalrymen went down. The major could not see the command of Captain Gordon, but he had been prompt in the discharge of the duty assigned to him.

"Sling carbines! charge them!" said the major.

The order was promptly obeyed, and the commander rode forward with the captain of the second company. But in a minute more there was nothing there to charge. What was left of the enemy suddenly wheeled their horses and began a retreat in hot haste. If they had not done so not one of them would have been left to contest the field in five minutes more.

The first company were just breaking out of the field when the second came up, and Major Lyon ordered the captain of the second to halt. Riding forward, he directed Captain Gordon to pursue the discomfited troopers, and capture them if he could. The fight was ended practically; and it had been little better than a slaughter, all owing to the reckless course of Captain Dingfield.

CHAPTER XVII

Captain Gordon began a vigorous pursuit of the retreating enemy; but they had the start of him by at least a mile, for he had met with some obstructions in reaching the road after his men had delivered their fire. Both the pursuers and the pursued disappeared behind the hill, and there was nothing more that the second company could do. The major had looked over those left upon the field, to ascertain if the captain was among them; but he was not.

"Captain Dingfield was a bold and reckless officer; and, as he rode at the head of his troop, I wonder that he is not lying here with the others who dropped from their horses," said Major Lyon, as he surveyed what had not yet ceased to be a sad sight.

"He was exceedingly fortunate to escape, though he may have carried off with him half-a-dozen bullets in his body," replied Captain Truman.

"Either he had no idea of how many men we have, or he intended to make only a demonstration against us, to enable the force he had sent to the bridge to finish their work," added the major. "The explosion seems to have been the signal for him to advance; and I am inclined to believe he intended only to prevent me from using my force to interfere with the work of those he had sent for the destruction of the bridge. Fortunately that matter had been attended to, and Belthorpe has men enough to overcome that sent by the hill road."

"I should say that Dingfield had been thoroughly and completely routed," replied Captain Truman with more enthusiasm than the major could feel; for the latter realized that the bridge had narrowly escaped destruction in the very face of his squadron, and under their very eyes.

"I don't know yet," he returned. "We can tell better about that when we have ascertained the condition of the bridge."

"We can still see it, and it does not appear to have suffered any very serious injury."

"March your company back to the cross-roads, Captain Truman. We shall soon learn what more we have to do. The bridge does not appear to have suffered much, as you suggest," added the commander as he rode down the hill, with Artie at his side.

"What do you suppose has become of Deck, father?" asked the young man; and there was a look of great anxiety on his face.

"I don't know, and I cannot conjecture," replied the father with a blank look at the inquirer. "I saw him lower the flag as I had ordered him to do. It did not occur to me that there could be any movement in progress there then. For the next hour or more I had enough to think of near the cross-roads, and I don't know that I looked at the bridge once in that time; certainly not with the expectation of seeing anything there."

"I can't understand it at all, father," added Artie; and he looked as though the tears might easily come into his eyes, for they had been together from their childhood, and had always been greatly devoted to each other.

They had never been known to quarrel with each other, though each was rather tenacious of his own opinion. Deck was not his own brother, only his cousin, though the fraternal feeling had always been as warm and earnest as though they had been born of the same father and mother. Since the troubles in the vicinity of Riverlawn had begun, and they had served side by side in the fights with the ruffians, as well as in drilling together for three months, the tie that united them had become even more intimate. Artie was fearfully anxious in regard to the fate of his brother; and his father was not less so, though he was more successful in concealing his feeling.

"I cannot understand it any better than you can," replied the major. "If I had thought of his safety at all, I should have considered him as more secure on the bridge than at the cross-roads, where we were liable to confront the enemy at any moment. Dexter had been so forward in the action on the east road, that I felt rather relieved to think that he was in a safe place. I wished him to do his duty faithfully; but he rode into the front rank of the company, being a volunteer, and threw himself, horse and all, upon the lieutenant in command of the enemy."

"I saw him do that myself, though Deck says Ceph tried to leap over the officer's horse of his own accord," added Artie. "There must have been some of the enemy's men on the bridge when we supposed there was no one there."

"For my part, I did not suppose anything at all about it, as I have said before; but I am confident now there must have been some of the Texans there, or men in their employ," continued the major. "It appears that the farther abutment of the bridge had been mined, though the work must have been done at the top. It seems to have been badly done, as though the workmen were laboring under great disadvantages."

The father and son could explain nothing; for they had nothing to base their opinions on, the explosion and the smoke of the fires being all the facts in their possession. Life Knox and his scouts had doubtless obtained some information by this time which would enable them to conjecture the fate of poor Deck. They continued on their way, with the second company just behind them. There was nothing to be done, unless it was to send a re-enforcement to Lieutenant Belthorpe, though it was doubtful if he had encountered the enemy.

As soon as Major Lyon and Artie reached the hospital they heard a vigorous yell, which seemed to come from the guards in charge of the camp. It was immediately followed by a hearty cheer from the second company. Both father and son looked about them without being able to see anything to call forth these cheers.

"Up goes the flag, father!" shouted Artie, who had directed his gaze where others were looking, and saw that the American flag had just been hoisted on the pole upon the bridge.

"Always a welcome sight, but more so now than usual," added the major, as he raised his field-glass and directed it to the flagstaff. "I see the tall form of Sergeant Knox at the halyards, and he has done this thing. I pray that it may be the herald of good news in regard to Dexter."

"Do you suppose the flag means that he has found Deck, father?" asked Artie, as a flood of hope flashed through his mind.

"It is impossible to tell what it means; but the sergeant seems to be climbing down the wall, and he will soon be here," replied the major.

Artie started his horse, with the evident intention of going to the bridge; but the major called him back, and directed him to wait where he was till Knox joined them.

"I may want you at any moment," said the father. "I have been using you and Dexter as my orderlies, and I appoint you to that position now."

"Is there any news from up above, Major Lyon?" asked the wounded lieutenant, who had walked to the spot where the commander stopped his horse. "I heard a volley a little while ago; has there been another engagement?"

"A very brief one," replied the major. "It was very soon decided, for Captain Dingfield retreated as soon as he had received our fire."

"Captain Dingfield!" exclaimed the wounded lieutenant; "that is not at all like him."

"It was the only thing he could do. He left eight of his men in the road, where they dropped from their horses; and of course he led away many others with bullets in their bodies. I should say that Captain Dingfield had been a very reckless commander, and I was almost sure I should find his body among the killed; but it was not there, and I suppose he is still carrying it with him."

"We did not expect much of any difficulty in this expedition, and we were satisfied that we could ride over the Home Guards we heard had been sent here to protect the bridges," replied Lieutenant Makepeace rather languidly, for he had been severely wounded.

"I have a squadron of United States cavalry under my command," said the major proudly.

"So I discovered this forenoon; not that you had a squadron here, but that the troopers were regular cavalrymen; and I must say that no men ever fought better, for my command were beaten and driven off in less time than it takes to tell of it," added the prisoner with an attempt to smile. "But two full companies were sent over here, though I have not yet been able to find the other."

"But the other company is here," said Major Lyon.

"Where?"

"There they are," answered the commander, pointing to the camp. "They are prisoners of war now."

"That accounts for it."

"That company were Home Guards in the first of it, but now they have become regular Confederate soldiers."

"They have made a mess of this expedition."

"I suppose you have a force over at the north end of the railroad bridge, lieutenant," said the major very quietly, and not expecting the prisoner would answer the question.

"If there is, it has been sent there since I was wounded. Everything has worked very differently from what we expected; for Captain Dingfield talked the whole thing over with me. We have fought the battle, and lost it. I suppose there is no harm in comparing notes after the affair is finished."

"I should think not; for I don't believe you can give me any information that will be useful to me now," replied the major.

"We ascertained that your company was camped near that plantation; and we had no idea that you had more than one. We believed the company sent from Bowling Green, which we have not seen yet, for we have not been there, was posted somewhere on what is called the east road. Dingfield's plan was to march down by the south road, use up your company near the plantation, and then effect a junction with the infantry company for the destruction of the bridge, which is said to be a matter of great importance to the South."

"I should say that it was; and my orders came from the general in command to prevent it," interposed the major.

"I was sent by Captain Dingfield round by the hill road, to attack you in the rear while he took you in front. As I said, we had no suspicion that you had another company of cavalry here. One of my scouts was shot, and is in this hospital with me. The other came back to me. But he had seen only two troopers; and I decided to push on, especially as I had four bridge-builders with me."

"Four bridge-builders!" exclaimed the major, "And what became of them?"

"I was ordered to send them by the nearest road to the bridge; and I was told, when I inquired on the way, that the hill road was the shortest cut to it. They had a six-mule wagon with them, containing their tools, tents, blasting-powder, and provisions. I came down the east road with my force, while they continued on their way by the hill road. My force was defeated as we approached the cross-roads, where I was to turn up."

"I waited all the forenoon and some of the afternoon for Captain Dingfield to attack me," said the major.

"The bridgemen made us late in starting, and the mules delayed us for hours on the road. Our surprise was in finding a whole company waiting for us at the cross-roads, where we had anticipated no obstacle."

The arrival of Knox prevented the major from obtaining any further information from the obliging lieutenant; but later in the day he explained his own operations to him. The capture of Captain Titus's company early in the morning, and the superior force of the loyal troops, had saved the bridge, though there was still an enemy to fight by the force of Lieutenant Belthorpe.

The account of the bridge-builders threw some light on the disappearance of Deck Lyon. It was evident that they had attempted to destroy the bridge; but when Knox reported to the major, he was compelled to acknowledge that he had been unable to find him, or to obtain any intelligence of him. But Deck had had a lively experience, and it becomes necessary to return to him while engaged in his solitary vigil at the foot of the flagstaff.

CHAPTER XVIII

He had nothing to do after he had hauled down the flag,—at least, nothing but watch his father, whose plumed hat was the only one of the kind on the field; and he had no difficulty in keeping it in sight all the time. He was not obliged to keep his eyes fixed on him every moment, for he knew when to expect the signal to hoist the flag; and it would not be given till the first company had engaged the enemy somewhere on the south road, between the top of the hill and the cross-roads.

He was all alone, and he could speak to no one. He had rolled up the flag with the halyards still attached to it, and placed it at the foot of the pole. He had been sitting on his horse all day, and for a time he amused himself in walking up and down the bridge. It did not occur to him that there was a human being anywhere near him except those who were in the camp below, and they were some distance from him. He looked at the prisoners, and the cavalrymen who were keeping guard over them. They were not an interesting sight to him, for the former consisted mostly of the ruffians whom he had fought in the field and in the schoolhouse.

"Nothing to do, and nobody to help me," said Deck to himself, as he seated himself at the foot of the flagstaff, with his legs dangling over the bank of the creek below. The pole had been set up where it was most convenient to fasten it, and the place was about ten feet from the abutment. The bridge spanned not only the stream of water, but the valley through which it flowed.

This valley was crossed by the embankment to within forty feet of the creek; and the south road passed under the bridge, close to the abutment. The high fence, or side of the shanty that had stood there, was on the solid ground, which had been filled in, and Deck was hardly more than a rod from it. He had walked about here, and he concluded that some kind of a building had stood there; for he found a temporary workbench, which had doubtless been used by the bridge-builders.

The signalman at the flagstaff was fully armed, as when he dismounted; and when he seated himself on the plank of the bridge, his sabre had nearly tripped him over the side of it to the ground below; but he was very active, and he saved himself. In this position he observed the occupation of the prisoners, who appeared to have no interest whatever in the impending fight at the cross-roads. Some of them were playing cards, to which they were more accustomed than to the routine of the soldier; some were asleep; and a few were mending their ragged garments.

They were not an interesting sight to the watcher on the bridge. Among them was his Uncle Titus, who sat on a log in front of his tent. He wore a disgusted look, perhaps because he was deprived of his usual whiskey rations; for Major Lyon refused to allow liquor to be served to any prisoner. He had chosen for himself, and had joined the Confederate army. He considered himself a sort of family martyr, because his brother had chosen to give his plantation to Noah instead of to him; and this feeling largely influenced him in his political choice.

Deck had only one wish, as he sat with his legs over the side of the bridge, and that was that the enemy would speedily appear on the south road; for then his father would give him the signal to hoist the flag. When he had done that his mission would be ended, and he could hasten back to his place in the ranks, in season, he hoped, to take part in the action. The more impatient he became, the more vigilant was his scrutiny of the plumed head of his father.

Several times he thought, when any movement was made by the soldiers, that the time had come. The minutes seemed to be longer to him than any he had ever known before. He looked at his watch, after he had refrained from doing so several times by the thought of his own impatience, and he found he had been on the bridge only half an hour; though it seemed to him that he had been there four times as long as that. But just at that moment, and before he had restored the watch to his pocket, he heard sounds which turned his attention in another direction.

He heard footsteps near him. No one but himself had been sent to the bridge, and the sound gave him a decided sensation. They came from the north end of the bridge; and the high fence prevented him from seeing the person whose tramp he heard. He was not alarmed; and he listened to the footsteps, waiting for the individual to come out from behind the obstruction. Then the steps were accompanied by the whistling of a tune, as though the person was an idler, who had no other means of employing his time.

Deck Lyon was not a musician, though he had done some singing before his voice changed. The whistling began to have an interest to him, and he listened with all his might. The person was either a Union man or a Secessionist; and the young cavalryman thought the air he selected must give him some information on this delicate point. If he whistled "Dixie," either from choice or from the force of habit, it would not be difficult to determine on which side he had cast his political lot.

On the other hand, if he piped "The Star Spangled Banner," "Hail, Columbia!" or "John Brown's Body," Deck thought he should be more rejoiced to meet him at this particular moment. Possibly the whistler had not kept up with the times in his musical education, for he piped none of the airs named; but presently the signalman recognized the notes of "Yankee Doodle," which answered his purpose even better than any of the melodies named. Secessionists had no taste for this ancient air at just this time.

The man appeared to have stopped behind the high fence, and did not immediately reward the expectant waiter with a sight of his person. He heard some blows with an axe or heavy hammer upon the planks underfoot; then he resumed his whistling, which became more vigorous than artistic. It was evident even to Deck that the performer had not been trained in the art he was practising, but he seemed to be plentifully supplied with wind, and he had just doubled the quantity of sound he produced; and the melody intended was unmistakably "Yankee Doodle," and this was the important point to the listener.

Still, the whistler did not show himself; though he was hardly more than forty feet distant from his audience, and seemed to be unconscious that he had a listener. Deck wanted to see that man, but he persistently kept his body corporate behind the obstruction to his view. Arranging his sabre, so that it should not trip him up and tumble him off the bridge, he sprang lightly to his feet. He stepped back a couple of paces, and then obtained a full view of the piper, who certainly was not skilful enough to have "played before Moses."

He did not wear a uniform, and therefore he did not belong to the Texan Rangers; for Deck had fought them, and knew how they were clothed. This struck him as an important point; for he had made sure before he rose from his seat that his carbine, slung at his back, was in condition for instant service. His regulation pistols were in the holsters on his horse; but he had supplied himself with a small revolver at Fort Bedford, for there was a tendency with fresh recruits to overload themselves with weapons on entering active service, and thousands of dollars worth of such were thrown away when they became a burden.

The stranger was dressed like a mechanic; and he seemed to be examining the planking of the bridge, which is not usually a matter of vital importance in such a structure for railroad purposes. The man stopped whistling, and began to use a middling-sized sledge-hammer, directing his blows at the heads of the spikes under his feet. Then he dropped the hammer, and picked up an adze, with which he trimmed off the projecting edge of a plank. Deck thought this was very strange work for a man to be doing at such a time, and in such a place.

But the mechanic was whistling a Union air; and this fact seemed to make it all right, and prevented him from having a suspicion that all was not right in the presence of the man on the bridge. The railroad in Kentucky was a loyal institution, as it was a disloyal one farther South. Deck therefore came to the conclusion that he was an employee of the company. He decided to interview the stranger, and ascertain more precisely who and what he was.

In matters of military duty Deck was a close constructionist; and the first question he asked himself was whether or not he ought to leave his post, even to go a distance of forty feet. His sole occupation till he received the signal to hoist the flag, was to watch for it; and he kept his father's plumed hat in sight all the time. But he could see the handkerchief when it was waved as well from behind the fence as at the flagstaff; or, at most, he had only to step back a few paces to enable him to command a full view of the expected battle-ground, and of the hill behind which Captain Truman was posted with his command.

He did not for an instant lose sight of his sole duty; but he walked a few paces at a time towards the fence, and then looked back, to make sure that he could see the plume of the major. As it was in sight all the time, he continued to advance very slowly. When he reached the end of the fence the centre of his watch was still to be seen, and nothing seemed to be in progress in any of the roads visible from his position.

Just at the moment when he was almost within speaking distance of the mechanic, who had ceased to whistle, the latter picked up his tools and moved to the other end of the fence, where he began to hammer the spikes again. The man appeared to take no notice of him, or even to be aware of his presence. Assured that he could see the skirmishers who had been sent beyond the hill if they were driven in, he continued to advance still farther, though he went to the middle of the bridge, where the fence did not obstruct his view.

Deck wanted to know more about the man with the sledge and the adze. The flag was to be hoisted as a signal for the second company to attack the enemy in the flank or rear, while the first engaged them in front. The fight must begin before the signal could be required, and the signalman would have abundant notice when the firing began that his services would soon be required. The fence was less than a hundred feet in length, and he had not far to go to confront the mechanic.

Keeping the cross-roads in view till the fence shut it out, he made a quick movement to the immediate vicinity of the workman, who was hammering away with the sledge with all his might. He made so much noise that he could not hear the steps of the soldier.

"What are you doing here?" shouted Deck.

The mechanic took no notice of him, and did not seem to have heard him. He repeated his inquiry, this time a great deal louder than before. The man stopped in his work, and looked at him with apparent astonishment, as though he had discovered his presence for the first time.

"I am fixing the bridge, don't you see?" replied the workman, as though he deemed it a foolish question. "What are you doing here?"

"I am on duty on the bridge," replied Deck.

But he could not see the soldiers near the cross-roads, where his father had been most of the time, and his conscience smote him as though he had stolen the brood in a chicken-coop. He did not wait to say any more, but he ran with all his speed till he reached a point where he could see the plume of the commander of the squadron.