In the Saddle

"Don't shoot, sonny!" repeated Kipps, still holding the carbine in a position that rendered it entirely useless; and as he spoke he advanced towards his prisoner.

"Don't come any nearer, Kipps, or there will be a breathless body in this wagon!" exclaimed Deck, with vim enough to convince the other that he was in dead earnest.

"I won't come no nearer, if you say so, Lyons. I was only go'n' to bring this shootin'-iron and give it back to you, jest to show you that I was right friendly-like to you; and I wanted to catch you by the hand, 'cause I believe you could 'a' killed some or all on us if you'd had a mind to. I reckon we won't quarrel after you've held up when you mou't have stuck some on us."

"Drop that carbine, Kipps, and then I can better understand what you mean," replied Deck.

"That's what's the matter, is it? I was only go'n' to give it back to you," protested the foreman, as he let go of the piece; and it dropped upon the loading of the wagon.

Deck lowered his revolver to his side; and Kipps climbed over the bundles, boxes, tools, and cans, till he was within reach of his late prisoner, for he seemed no longer to regard him as such. He extended his big hand to the cavalryman, whose right still firmly held his weapon, and he took the hand of the other with his left.

"That's a right-down honest Tennessee fist, Lyons, and the gizzard always goes with it," said he, as he squeezed the hand of Deck till he was on the point of crying out with the pain of the cracking bones. "There's that cheese-knife and shooter of yourn, and you can take 'em as soon as you get ready. You're a Yankee; but you've sunthin' more'n a rock for a gizzard."

"There's my hand in yours, Kipps; it's the left, but that is nearest to the heart," replied Deck, now fully trusting the Tennesseean, as he thrust the revolver into his pocket, satisfied that he should have no further use for it at present.

"You've got a rayle Tennessee gizzard in your bowels, Lyons, and I like you. If anybody wants to do you an ill turn, he's got to fight Brown Kipps, sure," added the foreman.

"And the rest on us," put in Tom Lobkill.

"That's so," chimed in Lank Rablan. "We ain't none on us gone dead yet; and if you hadn't got a gizzard tucked away somewhar in your bowels, some on us mou't 'a' been on t'other side o' Jordan's swellin' flood."

"Here's your tools, Lyons," continued Kipps, as he brought the sabre and carbine to Deck. "Here's the trimmin's that goes along with 'em, and you can rig yourself out jest as you was when I fust laid eyes on you."

As he spoke he took from his pockets the belt, sling, and other articles belonging to his equipment. Deck seated himself on the box again, and, after he had adjusted them, he put them on. He turned his back to his companions in the wagon, and restored his revolver to the hook where he carried it; for he did not care to show them where it had been concealed.

"I suppose you don't intend to carry me any farther, Kipps," said Deck, when he had fully accoutred himself for a march; and he hoped to be in the ranks of his company within a couple of hours.

With his companions, he believed the bridge had been destroyed, and that his father had failed in the principal object of his mission, though he had defeated the enemy in every engagement in which he had met them.

"I reckon you can go jest where you like, and kerry that gizzard o' yourn with you," replied Kipps. "I'm only sorry you're a Yankee, for you've behaved handsome enough to be a Tennesseean."

"I am equally sorry you are not all four Union soldiers, standing up like true men for your country and its government," replied Deck.

"I reckon we'd better not talk on that subject, for we can't agree, nohow," answered the foreman, as he went to the front of the wagon. "Now you can git out at this end, for t'other's locked."

This was a happy conclusion of the whole matter; and Deck realized that he had accomplished more by the course he had adopted than if he had carried out his cold-blooded intention to shoot his custodians. He went to the front, and Kipps assisted him to alight; for his weapons interfered with his movements in descent.

"Where are we now, my friends?" asked Deck, as he looked about him.

"I don't know, no more'n a goose in a poke," replied Kipps. "We've come some miles, more or less, from the railroad; and this is the road we come down on. Where are we, Jube?" he demanded of the negro driver.

"I reckon we's here, Mars'r Kipps," replied the driver with a grin from ear to ear.

"I reckon so too; but whar's here, Jupiter?"

"Donno whar you be, Mars'r!" exclaimed the negro, who seemed to think the foreman was joking with him.

"I don't know whar I am, Jube; do you?" replied Kipps, looking about him to identify anything in the surroundings.

"I know for sartin; we done come dis way befo', Mars'r. Dis is jest de place whar we done struck in de field to find de roleraid," replied the driver confidently. "Dis wot de fo'kes here call de hill road."

"But we didn't come over that log before."

"No, sar; dis nigger runn'd ag'in it, and twis' it round."

"I reckon we'd better camp here for the night, and wait for orders," said Kipps, "You can go the way you come, Lyons."

"I don't know that I can find my way," replied Deck. "I have been shut up in your wagon all the way, so that I could see nothing."

"You can foller the wagon-track, and that will fotch you out all right," added Lank.

But Deck was in doubt about returning to the railroad. He knew that Lieutenant Belthorpe had been sent over to the railroad, and he had seen the troopers ride up the embankment. He thought it strange that he had not encountered his force; and he proceeded, Indian fashion, to examine the road for horse-tracks in the sand. The sod was so tough that it bore no indentation inside of the log; but in the road he found plenty of horseshoe marks, and he proceeded to study them.

They all indicated that the riders were headed to the south, or in the direction of the east road, the latter of which led to the camp and cross-roads. Was it possible that Belthorpe had returned to the camp? This was what the marks suggested. Deck then walked by the log, and found the track extended towards the north. He followed them for about a quarter of a mile, and then he found where they began on the road.

At this point he found the fence had been thrown down, and there were plenty of horse-tracks in the cornfield which it surrounded. These led up from the direction of the railroad. In the soft ground he found, on the left of the great body of the marks, which indicated that the detachment had marched by fours, the print of a bar shoe, often called a round shoe. He was aware that Tom Belthorpe rode a horse shod in this manner, for the steed had belonged in the stable of the planter of Riverlawn.

His investigation proved that not only a company of cavalry had come up from the railroad to the highway, but that it was the force under command of the first lieutenant of the first company. He returned to the highway, wondering what had become of this detachment. But Deck did not know that a portion of the Texan Rangers had come down the hill road, as reported by the scouts of the squadron. He hastened back to the place where he had left the wagon. As he approached it he saw two mounted Rangers talking with the bridge-burners, or rather with the foreman of them; and the other three were helping the driver to hitch on his mules, for they had begun their preparations to camp there for the night.

The two scouts turned their horses and rode away in the direction from which they had come. Deck had halted when he saw them, and put himself behind a big tree at the side of the road. But as soon as they rode off at a gallop, as though they were in a hurry, he advanced. The bridge-burners were all busy in getting the mules ready for a start.

"You better make tracks with all your legs towards the railroad, sonny," said Kipps earnestly.

"What has turned up now?" asked Deck with interest.

"Them men was the scouts of our company, and we are ordered to move to the north with all the speed we can get out of the mules," continued Kipps. "Our company, or a part on't, will be here soon; and I don't want 'em to ketch you, Lyons, for I can't do nuthin' for you if they get hold on you."

"All right, Kipps; and I am very much obliged to you for your kind service. But where are you going?" asked Deck.

"I don't know no more'n the dead. I'm to foller this road, and I hain't the leastest idee whar it'll fetch out," replied the foreman, as he took his place on the front seat, and Jube started the unwilling team.

The driver plied his whip with cruel vigor, and the wagon soon disappeared. Deck was perplexed. Belthorpe had marched up the hill road, as indicated by the tracks of the horses, and the Rangers were marching down the same road. How did it happen that they had not met, and a fight had not ensued? He could not explain it. Just above him was a grove, or a field covered with sparsely scattered trees.

Deck was very anxious to ascertain the situation of affairs in this section, and he hoped to be able to give his father some important information when he met him. He placed himself behind a tree in the grove. He had hardly secured his position before he heard the clatter of horses' hoofs and the clangor of sabres in the road above him. In a minute he obtained a view of them, and they were Rangers. They were hurrying their horses as though they were engaged in some important movement.

The troops had not come abreast of the observer before he heard a furious yell in the grove not far from him. The shout of "Riverlawn!" was heard, with other yells; and a body of the Union cavalry dashed into the road, and fired a volley from their carbines.

"Sling carbines! Draw sabres!" shouted an officer; and Deck recognized the well-known voice of Tom Belthorpe. Then they charged into the enemy with a fury that promised to annihilate them in a very short time.

Deck belonged in this portion of the first company; but he had no horse, and he could not join in the charge; but he began to use his carbine. The Texans fought bravely and desperately, and the two forces seemed to be about equal. The interested observer saw one of his company topple over from his horse, and the excited animal dragged him, with one foot, in the stirrup, off the field. Deck caught the horse, and reduced him to subjection with a vigorous arm. He released the soldier, who was insensible, and placed him under a tree. Then he mounted the steed, and dashed into the fight.

He had hardly struck a blow with his sabre before he heard the clanging of sabres some distance in the rear. At the head of it was the officer in command, with one arm in a sling, and his head tied up with bandages. They were Texan cavalry, without a doubt; and Deck called the attention of the lieutenant to the fact.

CHAPTER XXIV

Deck had not been able to force his way into the thickest of the fight; and, being near the side of the road, he was the first to discover the approach of the second detachment of the enemy. The action was in progress in a broad, open space in the road, where the trees had been cut off from the land; and the ground occupied was partly in this field. He could readily determine that Belthorpe had chosen this place for the action because it presented more open space.

Doubtless his scouts had reported to him the approach of the first section of the enemy, and he had concealed his force in the grove to which Deck had retreated to observe the movements of both parties in the conflict. But he thought the lieutenant had made a mistake in delaying his attack until the detachment of the enemy had advanced too far, and he had thrown his men upon the rear instead of the flank.

The lieutenant had less than fifty men, and the enemy fought with desperate courage and determination. But his men were fresh; for they had been moving leisurely about in quest of the foe, and had been resting a short time in the grove, while the Rangers had ridden a long distance. The arrival of the rest of their company would throw all the advantage, both in position and numbers, over to the side of the enemy; and Deck saw in an instant that the battle would be lost if it continued under these unfavorable circumstances.

"Lieutenant!" he shouted, flourishing his sabre to attract attention, when he had approached as near as he could to the officer.

Tom Belthorpe was using his sabre vigorously, and he had just smote to the ground a trooper, when he heard the voice of Deck. He had not seen him before, and was not aware of his presence. He concluded on the instant that the son of the major was the bearer of an order from his father; and he knew the young man well enough to understand that he would not call him at such a time on an unimportant matter, and he rode towards him.

"What is it, Deck?" he demanded, full of the excitement of the conflict.

"Yon are flanked and outnumbered!" shouted Deck; though in the noise and fury of the action no one but the lieutenant heard or noticed his call. "There is another detachment of the Rangers coming up the road. You are beaten if you don't get out of it!"

"I don't understand you, Deck," replied the officer, glancing at his men still engaged in the furious strife.

"There is a force of the enemy of at least fifty men coming up the road, and in three minutes more they will fall upon your rear!" repeated Deck, speaking as clearly as though he had been reading his piece in school.

"Where do they come from?" demanded Tom, as he looked back in the direction indicated by the sabre of his friend, and they were the best of friends.

"I don't know anything at all about it," answered Deck impatiently.

The fresh troopers of the lieutenant's command were driving the enemy before them by the vigorous fighting they had put into the attack, and they were somewhat superior in numbers. By the time Deck had given his warning the enemy had been forced back to the point where the wagon had emerged from the fields and woods. The lieutenant was obviously very unwilling to give an order to retreat when victory was almost within his grasp. It was the first action in which he had been engaged, and his pride as a soldier was implicated.

Tom looked again at the approaching re-enforcement of the enemy; and then very reluctantly he summoned the bugler, and ordered him to sound the call, "To the rear." It was given in the quickest of time; and the faces of the troopers indicated their astonishment and chagrin at the nature of the call, when victory was only a question of minutes.

The men fell back; but the enemy were not disposed to follow them, and perhaps believed they had gained a victory. They were facing down the road, and they could not help seeing that a re-enforcement for their side was approaching. The lieutenant in command reformed his men, but he did not order them to charge upon their retiring foe.

"I don't understand this business, Deck," said Tom Belthorpe, when he realized that the officer in command of the enemy did not intend to pursue him.

"I don't understand anything beyond what I can see with my own eyes," replied Deck. "I have just come over this region in a wagon, and I advise you to retreat towards the railroad, if you will excuse me for saying so."

The lieutenant gave the order for his men to retire in the direction indicated, and the officer and Deck followed them.

"We were within two minutes of a victory, Deck," said Lieutenant Belthorpe, still panting with the exertion he had put forth in the combat.

"But you would have lost it, and had the tables turned on you two minutes later," replied Deck.

"What next?" asked the officer, who, in his inability to understand the situation, was perplexed and baffled. "I don't feel like running away just as we were whipping those Texans."

"But it is easier to run away before you have been whipped yourself than it would be afterwards. I should judge that the force approaching is the other half of the Rangers' company. There they come," added Deck, as the furious riders seen in the distance halted in the road near where the bridge-burners had proposed to camp for the night.

Without consulting his friend and companion in regard to the expediency of doing so, the lieutenant gave the order for his platoon to halt at the moment when they had encircled one of the knolls so common in that region. He and Deck were in the rear; and though the men could not see the road, it was in full view from the position occupied by the officer.

"I am not feeling like doing any more running away just yet," said Tom, who was quite willing to forget that he was a lieutenant in the presence of Private Deck Lyon.

"They have halted, and there is no occasion to run away just yet; but it is best to take the bull by the horns before he gores you," added the private. "I think we had better rest under that big tree, and keep out of sight till you get a better idea of this thing, Lieutenant."

The suggestion was adopted, and they rode to a position under the tree where they could see without being seen.

"They have come together, and they don't seem to know where they are any better than we do," said the lieutenant. "I should say they had had a hard ride by the looks of their horses;" and the officer had looked at the reunited company through a small opera-glass he carried in his pocket, though the distance was hardly more than five hundred feet.

"Hold on a minute, Tom!" exclaimed Deck, as he slid from his horse, and fastened him to a branch.

"What are you going to do now, Deck?" demanded the lieutenant.

"I am going up there to find out what is going on," replied the private, as he detached his sabre, and fastened it to his saddle.

"But you will be picked up," suggested Tom.

"If I am I will let you know; but I am determined to get posted, so that I can give you reliable information," answered Deck. "But I obey your orders; and, if you tell me not to go, of course I shall not."

"Do as you think best, Deck," replied the lieutenant, who found it difficult to realize that he was the military superior of his friend.

Deck waited for nothing more. His carbine was still slung at his back; but he had provided that the clang of his sabre as he walked should not betray him. He had looked the ground over before that day, and knew where he was locally, though he was ignorant of the positions of the several bodies of troopers other than those before his eyes. He was on the border of the grove, consisting of large trees, rather far apart. He got behind the trunk of one of these, and then picked his way from one to another, till he was within thirty feet of the officers in command of the company.

The lieutenant of the platoon which had done the fighting had ridden away from his command a short distance; and when Deck first saw him he was peering into the region between the railroad and the road, doubtless anxious to ascertain what had become of the force with which he had just been engaged. The man with his head tied up and his arm in a sling called upon a sergeant to rearrange the bandage on his head; and he had just completed his task when Deck reached the shelter of the tree he had selected. The wounded officer, for such his uniform and shoulder-straps indicated that he was, appeared to be ready for business.

"Where is Lieutenant Redway?" he demanded very impatiently.

"There he comes, Captain Dingfield," replied the sergeant at his side.

The lieutenant hurried up his jaded steed, and saluted his captain.

"I thought I saw a fight going on here," continued the commander of the company, though Deck had never heard his name before.

"So there was, Captain Dingfield; and a very sharp one at that," replied Lieutenant Redway. "But we defeated the enemy, whipped them out of their boots, and they fled like a flock of frightened sheep down that opening;" and the reporter of this information pointed in the direction in which Tom's command had retired.

"If the Father of Lies, who is always swinging his caudal appendage over the world in search of the biggest liars, should come here for one, where could Captain Dingfield hide you, Lieutenant Redway?" said Deck to himself; for it would not have been prudent to say it out loud.

"Why didn't you follow them up?" demanded the captain, with some indignation in his tones and manner.

"Because you were in sight with the rest of the company; and I deemed it my duty to wait for orders, especially as you had sent me directions to hurry forward the bridge brigade," replied the lieutenant.

"But I am closely pursued by a force in the rear; and it cannot be far behind me by this time. How large was the detachment you fought, Redway?" asked the captain, looking behind him at the road, as though he believed his pursuers were close at hand.

"About the size of my command; fifty men, I should say."

"You ought to have wiped them out; and you have made a mess of it by not doing so," added the captain.

The two officers had withdrawn from the immediate vicinity of their men, and chosen a place within twenty feet of Deck's tree, so that he could hear them very distinctly. The conversation was exceedingly interesting to him, especially the fact in regard to the pursuing force.

"I acted upon my best judgment."

"I had a rough fight in the road, on my way to the bridge, and I have hardly forty men left, while the Yankees will have a full company when the detachment behind me comes up," added the captain, who was evidently in a contemplative mood. "The force you whipped must be at no great distance from this road."

"I think they will keep on running for the next three miles," said Redway. "I went up the road to look for them, but I could see nothing of them."

"But we shall be outnumbered if we let the two parts of this company come together. I have found that they fight like Texans. If we meet the whole of them together, we shall be whipped, as Makepeace was. There is only one thing to do. Form the whole company in column by fours, and we must go back and beat our pursuers, before they get as far as this," said Captain Dingfield, suddenly becoming very animated and energetic.

Deck concluded that the time had come for him to leave his retreat; and he felt that he had not lost his time in carrying out the plan he had suggested. But it would be safer for him to retreat in five minutes more than at that moment. He looked on while the Rangers formed, and saw them march on their present mission. He had not a very high opinion of the strategy of Captain Dingfield; and if his subordinate officer had given him correct information, perhaps he would have adopted a different course.

The Rangers could no longer see him, and he broke into a run as soon as they had gone. He found everything as he had left it, and he proceeded to report his intelligence to Lieutenant Belthorpe.

CHAPTER XXV

He appeared to have discovered that the squadron of cavalry he had encountered was not so easily annihilated as he had believed they would be by his invincible Rangers. On the contrary, he found his troop in a difficult situation, with a superior force near him. Doubtless he had read in what manner Napoleon I. defeated an army of superior numbers by taking it when divided into two parts, delivering battle to each in turn.

Captain Gordon, with half his company, had been sent in pursuit of him, but had been somewhat delayed in his movements. Captain Dingfield had united the two portions of his company after the skirmish of one of them with Lieutenant Belthorpe, who was believed to have retreated to the railroad.

Deck Lyon had listened to the interview between the captain and lieutenant of the Rangers, and fully understood their plan. As soon as the company had departed on their mission to annihilate the detachment of Captain Gordon, he hastened back to the big tree where he had left Lieutenant Belthorpe. Tom had just crossed swords with the enemy for the first time, and had fought like a lion; but he was nervous in regard to the situation. He had no superior officer near him, and he felt the responsibility of his position.

"Well, Deck, what next?" he asked, before the young soldier could get within talking distance of him.

"There is work for you," replied Deck; and though he knew precisely what ought to be done, he was very careful not to suggest anything. He did not wish to overstep the line of his duty as a private, though he and the lieutenant were on the most intimate and familiar terms of friendship. He hurried his steps; and in as few words as possible he related all he had seen and heard.

"Then, Captain Dingfield has gone out with his whole company to intercept Gordon?" said the officer.

"Precisely so; and I don't know what force Captain Gordon has with him," added Deck. "The Rangers believe your command has retreated to the railroad, and are well out of the way."

"We will convince them to the contrary very soon," said Tom with energy, and darted off at the best speed of his horse for the knoll where he had left his men.

Deck restored his sabre to its place, and mounted his horse. He was ready to return to the ranks; but Tom called him, and he took his place at the side of his friend. The lieutenant asked him a great many questions; for the troop could not move at their best speed on account of the trees and bushes.

"I suppose we have nothing to do but follow and pitch in when we find the enemy," said Tom, when they came out on the hill road. "We can't see anything of Dingfield's company yet."

"He has not got over the top of that hill we see ahead, and is in the valley this side. Neither of us has been over this road, and we know nothing at all about it," replied Deck, careful not to wound the pride of his officer.

"Why don't you speak out, Deck, and tell me what you are thinking about?" said the lieutenant somewhat impatiently. "You keep in your shell as tight as a Baltimore oyster. You did not hesitate to tell me what you had in your sconce when we were fighting that detachment in the road."

"I only intended to give you the information that Dingfield's company was coming, and would then outnumber you," replied Deck.

"You advised me to retreat, and I did so, for I saw that you were right."

"But you are my superior officer, and my business consists in obeying your orders," replied the private with becoming humility.

"None of that, Deck! We will keep up all the forms and ceremonies; but I want you to be Deck Lyon, while I am Tom Belthorpe, when we are side by side as we are at this moment. I say all we have to do is to ride ahead till we find the enemy, and then pitch in. Is that your idea, Deck?"

"With all due deference, Tom, it is not," replied the private.

"Confound your deference!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "I asked your advice, and you mumble about forms."

"I will speak as plainly as I know how to speak. If you show yourself to Captain Dingfield, he will run away if he can. He has been badly punished to-day, and he can't stand much more of it. When he finds himself pinched between Captain Gordon and yourself, I don't believe he will feel like cutting his way out."

"But he outnumbers Gordon just now," Tom objected.

"Of course you will not let Captain Gordon suffer," continued Deck. "If you will allow me to say it, I will suggest what I should do if I were in your place."

"Allow you! Confound you, Deck! Didn't I ask you point-blank what you would do?" demanded Tom.

"We are moving at a dog-trot now, and that is just right. Before we get to the top of that hill yonder in the road, I should halt, and send a scout ahead to report on what there is to be seen," said Deck.

"All right! I detail you as the scout," answered the lieutenant very promptly.

"Then I will leave you. If I raise my cap over my head, hurry up. If I make no sign, come along leisurely," added Deck, as he urged his steed to a gallop, and dashed ahead.

Just then he wished he had Ceph; but he had left him hitched near the bridge when he ascended it to take in the flag, though the horse he had was not a bad one. How far in the rear of Captain Dingfield's company Captain Gordon had been he had no means of judging. Deck reached the summit of the hill over which the road passed. He reined in his steed, and walked him till his own head was high enough to see over the crest in front of him.

Captain Dingfield's company was not in sight. Not more than half a mile ahead of him was another hill, beyond which the enemy had disappeared. He took off his cap and waved it in the air above his head. Tom could not help seeing it; and his command were immediately galloping towards him. Deck did not wait for them, but ran his own horse till he reached the summit of the second hill. Here he halted again. There was a third hill, and probably one every mile or half-mile; for this was the hill road.

Captain Dingfield had not hurried his men, and Deck discovered his force on the lowest ground between the two hills. He had halted there, and the men appeared to be watering their horses. Deck was sorry he had not a field-glass. He fell back a short distance, so that his horse should not be seen by the enemy, hitched him to a sapling, and returned to the top of the hill on foot. After examining the location of the enemy as well as he could, he concluded that a road crossed that upon which both forces were moving, though he was not sure.

Returning to his horse, he mounted again, and descended the hill a few rods. The lieutenant had reached the top of the first hill, and Deck waved his cap again. As soon as Tom reached the spot where the private was, he halted his command. He hastily informed his officer that the enemy were at the foot of the hill on the other side.

"I must not lose sight of them for long," said Deck. "I will go ahead again, and make the same signal for you to advance."

"But you expect there will be a fight, don't you, Deck?" asked the lieutenant.

"There will be if Captain Dingfield don't run away by a road I believe extends through the valley. I think the captain of the Rangers is waiting for Captain Gordon to come upon him in this place. I will keep a lookout for our men," replied Deck, as he rode up the hill again.

The private was a very enthusiastic soldier; and he thought it would be a capital idea to bag the Rangers, and make prisoners of the whole company. It would be a feather in Tom Belthorpe's cap, and he would have been glad to place it there. He hitched his horse again, and then climbed a tree. Some of the hills in the vicinity were cultivated, and some were not. From his elevated perch he discovered a farmhouse on the road, of whose existence he had not before been confident. He had no doubt of the fact now.

There was a cornfield on the left of the road where he was, but at some distance from it. Between this tilled land and the hill road was a considerable extent of wild land, covered with hillocks, and the whole of it overgrown with small trees and bushes. Near the place where the platoon had halted, Deck perceived a practicable passage through the tanglewood; and he went down the tree in a desperate hurry, to the imminent peril of his limbs, though he reached the ground in safety.

A glance at the summit of the third hill assured him that Captain Gordon was not yet in sight. Slinging his carbine, and buckling on his belt, he hastened to the lieutenant, and, without any unnecessary manifestations of deference, stated the plan he had brewed in the top of the tree.

"I should like to see the whole of that company bagged, Tom," said he, as he led the way to the opening he had seen. "I should like to see you do it, I am only afraid Dingfield will escape by that road, and I should like to have you block his way in that direction."

"But if we shut up that road against him, we shall leave the hill road open to him," replied Tom.

Both of them were laughing; and Deck hastened to a place where he could see over the crest of the hill, while the lieutenant divided his force for the two undertakings. In a few moments all was ready, and Tom joined his friend.

"It is time we were moving," said Deck.

"All is ready for you; and Fronklyn will take counsel of you when necessary," replied the lieutenant.

"Don't show yourself on the top of the hill, Tom; for that might let the cat out of the bag," added Deck.

The scout, as Deck considered himself for the present, joined the detachment detailed for the by-road, and led them into the wild region, Fronklyn remaining some distance behind him. The enemy were in a deep hollow, and the guide soon assured himself that the detachment could be neither seen nor heard by them. The sergeant advanced in response to his signals. A spur of the hill concealed them, and they galloped across the field, from which the crop had been harvested. He guided the force to a point beyond the farmer's house. Leaving the sergeant and his men where the buildings shut off the view of the hill road, Deck rode cautiously to the other side of the house.

"What you uns doin' here?" asked the farmer, showing himself from behind his barn.

"We are attending to our own business, and it wouldn't be a bad idea for you to do the same," replied Deck, who did not like the looks of the man.

"I reckon you uns is Confedrits," he added.

"You are out of your reckoning."

"There's some more on 'em over to the brook. I reckon I'll go over, and let 'em know you're here," suggested the farmer.

"If you do, you will get a bit of lead through your upper story," replied Deck, as he rode on.

He had hardly started his horse before a volley was heard in the direction of the hill road.

CHAPTER XXVI

"Hurry up, Sergeant! I think we shall have warm work over on the hill road as soon as we can reach it. They are firing lively now on both hills," said Deck, as he took his place by the side of the officer.

"We are all ready for it; and the men were as mad as a bull in a swarm of hornets as the recall was sounded back there a while ago, when they were licking the enemy out of his boots," replied Fronklyn.

"They are likely to get enough of it now," added Deck, as they galloped forward at the best speed they could get out of the horses.

But the firing suddenly ceased, and there was a noise ahead other than the sounds of battle, which attracted the attention of Deck and the sergeant. It was the clang of sabres and the rattle of accoutrements, and the sounds came from a less distance than to the hill road.

"What does this mean?" asked Deck, as he reined in his horse. "Halt your men here!" he added, as he obtained a full view ahead.

Fronklyn promptly accepted the suggestion, and gave the order; but he did not understand the reason for making it. The cross-road extended through the wild region over which the detachment had passed farther up the hill. In this part of it the surface was more irregular than above; on the left was a meadow, through which flowed the brook that crossed the main road. Just ahead of the force the road wound through a narrow pass, between lofty pinnacles of rock.

From a point in the road Deck had obtained a glance across the meadow at the cross-road near the main highway. There he saw the Rangers retreating vigorously, and coming directly towards him. He could not quite understand this change in the programme, as laid down by Lieutenant Belthorpe and himself. But it did not take him long to explain the situation to his own satisfaction, whether correctly or not.

Captain Gordon's men had made the attack with a volley from the carbines. As soon as Tom Belthorpe heard the report, he dashed down the hill to have a finger in the pie; for his men were eager for the affray. Captain Dingfield had seen them coming, and probably mistook the force for a much larger one, and ordered a retreat by the cross-road. Doubtless he had chosen to await the attack of Captain Gordon in this locality on account of this convenient outlet. The enemy had not waited for a charge, and neither of the detachments from the two hills had reached the brook.

Deck hurriedly stated the situation to Sergeant Fronklyn. Then he pointed out the narrow pass in the road, which would conceal the men for a few moments. He advised him to advance to it, and then fall upon the head of the column as it entered the narrow passage. The officer gave the order to advance, and with it a few ringing words of encouragement. Fronklyn placed himself at the head of his men, with Deck near him, and they dashed into the pass at a breakneck speed. The enemy had not yet reached the narrow defile.

The troopers had their carbines all ready for use, and the sergeant halted them at a point where they could see the Rangers as they approached. At the right moment he gave the command to fire, and the report was the first intimation to Captain Dingfield that an enemy was in front of him. As soon as the Union soldiers had discharged their pieces, they were ordered to sling their carbines, and draw their sabres.

"To the charge! March!" shouted Fronklyn.

The volley had been a surprise to the Rangers, and they were evidently staggered as some of their saddles were emptied. Captain Dingfield was not at the front of his company; for the danger was supposed to be in the rear, and he was as brave a man as ever sat on a horse. Of course he could form no idea of the strength of the force in front of him, and he must have realized that he had fallen into a trap. If he had not been prudent before, he was so now, for the bugler immediately sounded the recall.

Sergeant Fronklyn did not wait to see what Captain Dingfield would do, or where he would retreat. He led his men forward, and they charged furiously upon what had been the right of the column. The Rangers defended themselves with vigor and determination for a few minutes, and the accounts of three of them were closed for this world. The next thing that Deck saw, for he made a business of knowing all that was going on around him, was a column of cavalry fleeing across the meadow.

The captain of the Rangers, from his position near the rear, had evidently found a means of escape. Deck fought with his sabre as long as there was one of the enemy near him; but as fast as the Texans could get out of the mêlée they fled to the rear. The pass was so narrow that the Union troopers, few as there were of them on the by-road, had not room enough to do themselves justice. But Fronklyn urged them on, and drove them before him, till he heard the clashing of arms in front of him.

Both Captain Gordon and Lieutenant Belthorpe dashed into the narrow road, and followed up the enemy, till the last of them had taken to the meadow. When the ground was examined later, it was found that there was only one narrow causeway by which the descent to the low ground could be made; and the Rangers covered and defended this pass till all of their number had left the road. It was in vain that the fresh troopers pressed forward from the hill road, for the way was blocked against them. In the inability of the captain and the lieutenant to bring their numbers to bear, the combat was on equal terms.

The Rangers defended themselves bravely and skilfully. There were a number of hand-to-hand struggles with which there was no space for the interference of others. But it looked as though the Texans had leaped from the frying-pan into the fire; for they had gone out but a short distance from the by-road before their horses began to mire; for the ground proved to be very soft. Several of the Texans were obliged to dismount, and pull their steeds out of the mud.

Captain Gordon had pressed forward, and engaged the rear of the retreating column; and he was about to order a pursuit, when he discovered the enemy was sinking in the mire, and that the meadow was no place for horses. It was located all along the wild region; and, doubtless, some of those sink-holes and caverns which abound in this part of the State existed in this section of wild land. But the captain was not willing to permit the escape of the enemy.

Deck Lyon was reasonable enough to abandon the idea of "bagging the game;" for the Rangers could now hardly be regarded as an organized military company. The meadow proved to be nothing but a quagmire, though the farmer appeared to get the hay from it, as there were two stacks of it on the field; but he had to take the occasion when the ground was frozen to obtain his crop. By this time the Texans were scattered all over the meadow, wandering about in search of more solid ground.

It would have been easy enough to shoot down the whole of them; but Captain Gordon was too chivalrous a man to murder the defenceless fellows. A few of them had crossed the brook, and were ascending the hill on the other side. A number of them were making a road of the bottom of the little stream, which seemed to be composed of sand washed in from the hills.

The first company were at ease all along the by-road, watching the movements and the struggles of the enemy; and no doubt Captain Dingfield wished he had fought it out, or surrendered on the hard ground. The night was coming on; and even if the Texans extricated themselves from their pitiable condition, they must be so demoralized that they could do no further mischief till they had rested and recruited from the effects of their battle with the mud.

"What are them men doin' in there?" asked the farmer, who wandered as far as the causeway, when it was safe to do so, and there encountered Deck, whom he had met before.

"They are trying to get out," replied Private Lyon.

"They can't do it!" exclaimed the native, who indulged in much profane speech. "They'll make a cemetry of the whole medder. It's nothin' but muck in there till you git to the bottom on't, and that's where them fellers will go. I had a colt git in there, and all on us couldn't git him out; and I reckon his carcass is lyin' on the bottom now. They've sp'ilt my medder," continued the farmer; and he heaped curses on the unfortunate troopers, who were tearing up the soft sod at a fearful rate.

The native had picked up the three horses of the troopers who had been killed in the affray, and they were some compensation for the damage done him in the meadow, which looked as though it had been ploughed up.

"Isn't there any way for those men to get out of that quagmire?" asked Captain Gordon, as he encountered the farmer.

"I don't know o' none," replied the man in a surly tone, "If they was only Yankees, I'd like it better."

"I like it better as it is," replied the captain.

He knew of no way to extricate the troopers from their plight. It was the dry season of the year, and probably there was less water and less mud than in the wet season. The bodies of the horses seemed to be resting on the sod, with their legs wholly plunged in the soft soil. The riders had dismounted, and attacked two stacks of hay on the field, and were placing it in front of their animals. It afforded a better foundation for them than the oozy turf; and a couple of them were already standing on their legs.

The darkness was gathering rapidly, and Captain Gordon gave the order for his men to form in column; and then he marched them out to the hill road. He was satisfied that the Texans would escape from their miserable plight, though it might require many hours for them to accomplish it. They had already begun to build a sort of causeway of the hay, to connect with the solid one by which they had fled from the fight. The hay was of a coarse quality, abundantly mixed with weeds and bushes, and it appeared to be substantial enough to support the horses.

It was evident to the captain that the entire force of the enemy could be easily captured as they came off the meadow; but it might require the whole night to secure them. The first company, now united, marched to the hill road, and halted in a field which had been selected before for the camping-ground. The men proceeded to feed themselves and their horses. A half-dozen scouts were left on the by-road to watch the mired Texans. They had built a great fire to afford them light, and continued their labors.

A portion of the field where they had encamped consisted of a grove of big trees, such as the company had frequently seen. The baggage-train had been left at the bridge, and the men had no tents, but they were provided with overcoats and blankets; and thus protected from the cold of the chill night, it was not accounted a hardship to sleep on the ground. Sentinels surrounded the camp, and two scouts had been sent out in each direction on the hill road.

"Scouts coming in from both ways!" shouted the sentinels in the road; and the word was carried to the guard quarters.

The captain was immediately informed. As Deck happened to be in the detail for guard duty, he had been stationed in the road, and it was his voice which first announced the return of the scouts. Captain Gordon, who had stretched himself under a tree for a nap, hastened to the road to ascertain the cause of the alarm.

"Where are the scouts, Deck?" he asked, as he confronted the sentinel in the road.

"They have not got here yet," replied Deck, as he saluted the captain. "I saw them at the top of the hills, coming in at full speed."

"But there is no enemy in this vicinity, except the Texans in the quagmire," added the captain.

"I know of none, Captain."

The two scouts came in almost at the same moment, before the captain and the private could discuss the situation, and reported a detachment of cavalry approaching from either direction.

CHAPTER XXVII

"I don't know, Captain; we could not make them out in the darkness," replied the scout; and he was the one who came from the south.

"How many were there of them?"

"We looked at them as they came down the hill, and Wilder and I reckoned there were about fifty of them. They had a wagon train behind them."

"Very well, Beck. What have you to say, Layder?" asked Captain Gordon, turning to the scout from the north.

"My report is just about the same as Beck's; though the detachment comes from the other way. But they didn't have no baggage-train."

"Did you make out how many there were, Layder?"

"We made out about forty of 'em, Captain; we could not see very well, and there may have been more of 'em."

"Return to your mates, and ascertain, if you can, who and what they are," added Captain Gordon.

Deck Lyon had something to say, but he did not feel like saying it. He was perfectly satisfied that there would be no fighting with the approaching detachments. He had been reasoning over the situation, and he had formed a decided opinion. He had heard the train on the railroad, both when it went down and when it returned about dark; but he knew nothing about the events which had transpired at the camp by the bridge. The only fact that bothered him was that the detachment from the south had a baggage-train.

"Well, Deck, what do you make of it?" asked Captain Gordon, as he halted in front of the sentinel.

"The two detachments are the second company of Riverlawn Cavalry," replied Deck without any hesitation; for this was the decided opinion he had reached.

"What makes you think so, Deck?" asked the captain with a smile.

"Except the Texans in the mud, there is no other cavalry in these parts. That's the first reason. The second is, that Major Lyon sent half the first company under Lieutenant Belthorpe up the railroad, and he can have heard nothing from this force since; and he would naturally get a little anxious about it. The third reason is, that he sent you and the rest of the first company in pursuit of the Texans. If you have not sent any messenger to him, I shouldn't wonder if the major had worried a little about you, Captain," said Deck.

"I sent no messenger to him; I could not spare a single man, for I was liable to meet the whole company of Texans," added the captain. "But I think you are right, and the same suggestions came to my mind."

Half an hour later the same scouts returned to the camp, and reported that the captain and Deck were correct in their suppositions. In a quarter of an hour more the second company rode into the camp. Major Lyon was with the detachment from the south. The moment he saw Deck, he leaped from his horse as lightly as his son could have done it, and grasped both of the hands of the sentinel.

"I am glad to see you again. Dexter!" exclaimed the father. "I have had a deal of worry over your disappearance, and I was afraid I should have to send bad news to your mother and your sister."

"No use of worrying about me, father," replied Deck, still holding the hand of the major. "I have had considerable experience to-day, but I have worked through it all."

"But what became of you?" asked the anxious father.

"I was captured by the bridge-burners, and I was only sorry that I could not prevent them from setting the bridge afire. I suppose it was all burnt up, and your business here is all a failure."

"Not at all, my son; the bridge was hardly damaged at all, and a train has been over it twice since they tried to burn it. But I will see you later," added the major, as he pressed the hand of his son again.

Captain Gordon was considerate enough to relieve the sentinel from duty, and he went with his father to the nearest camp-fire. The wagons were driven into the field, and a few minutes later the headquarters tent was pitched. Stools were placed before the fire, and all the commissioned officers of both companies were sent for. It looked like a council of war, though the object of the meeting was to receive the reports of the officers. For the first time since the arrival of the squadron, the two companies were united.

Captain Gordon, as the senior, was called upon first for his report; and he recited it at length, ending with the skirmish at the cross-roads near the camp. Lieutenant Belthorpe described his wanderings with half the company, including his brief engagement with the Rangers.

"I feel as though I should be mean if I failed to inform the officers of the squadron how much service Deck Lyon has rendered to me since I found him on the road," said Tom. "We are not on parade just now, and I suppose I may say it."

"Dry up, Tom!" exclaimed Deck, loud enough to be heard by the speaker, though hardly by the others.

"Not just yet, Lieutenant," interposed the major. "I don't understand how you happened to meet Dexter in the road; for the last he told me of himself was that he was taken prisoner by the enemy. I should like to hear his narrative first, for it may throw some light on other matters."

Deck was admonished by his father to tell the whole story, without any omissions; and he related his adventure from the time he had first seen Brown Kipps. He explained how he had been duped by that worthy Tennesseean, and in what manner he had been tempted to shoot his four custodians through the back of the head.

"I hope you didn't do it, Dexter," interposed his father, before he had come to the sequel of the affair.

"I did not, father; for I feared the deed would haunt me to the last day of my life, be it long or short," replied Deck. "It looked like cold-blooded murder to me."

The assembled officers applauded him vigorously with their hands; and the young soldier was glad to receive this testimonial of his officers, for to him it seemed to settle the moral question involved in his action.

"I do not believe in carrying on the war upon peace principles; but I do believe that soldiers should not become assassins," added the major.

The officers likewise applauded this sentiment of their commander.

"We are ready to hear you now, Lieutenant Belthorpe, as I know how Dexter came into your path. It is important to remember that the bridge-burners, with their wagon and supplies of combustibles, proceeded to the north by the hill road. Go on, Lieutenant."

Tom Belthorpe described the action with half the Rangers under Lieutenant Redway, and the interposition of Deck when he discovered the approach of the other half of the Rangers. He had retreated rather against his will by Deck's advice.

"I think his advice was good, if he is my son," added the major.

"No doubt of it; you would have been pinched between the two portions of the Confederate force, and outnumbered nearly two to one," added Captain Gordon.

"I was quite satisfied in regard to the wisdom of the advice, badly as we desired to fight out the action, as soon as I had a chance to think of it," continued Tom. "Then Deck did a very neat piece of spy-work, which enabled us to follow the enemy without being seen or heard. The whole of the Rangers had come together, and they outnumbered Captain Gordon's command. It was Deck's suggestion to strike across lots, and reach the by-road; but I did not follow it in full, and divided my force, so that the Texans should not retreat by the way we came."

"And when you came down the hill with hardly more than twenty men, the Texans took fright, and retreated up that by-road, where they were received by Sergeant Fronklyn," added Captain Gordon. "This caused them to seek a new avenue of escape; and they plunged into the quagmire, where they are now."

"What you say of Deck leads me to indorse his conduct in the action on the east road this morning," said Captain Truman, who had said nothing before; and he proceeded to describe what the young man had done in that affair.

"Pleasant as it is to hear such excellent reports of the behavior of my son, I must add that his brother has behaved equally well, though he has not had the opportunity to distinguish himself except in doing his simple duty," said the major. "But I have more important business than this, for I received new orders before I left the camp at the bridge. I am required to assure the safe passage of trains on the railroad first; but it appears that the State has been invaded in the south-east, or is liable to further invasion in that direction.

"The worst feature of this aspect of the situation is that hordes of guerillas have been turned loose upon us; and even now they are engaged in their work of plundering and destroying the property of Union men, not to speak of the outrages committed upon the citizens. These guerillas, or some of them, take the name of 'Partisan Rangers.' Indiana and Ohio troops are moving in the direction mentioned; but the enemy are still busy there. 'The Confederate cavalry,'" continued the commander, reading from a letter he had taken from his pocket, "'scoured the country in the vicinity of their camp, arrested prominent Union men, and destroyed their property.' This is the situation for a hundred miles east of us; and I am ordered to check these raids of the guerillas with all my available force.

"I am ordered to move without any unnecessary delay, and I shall march to-morrow morning. I expect a company of Union Home Guards here by to-morrow; and I shall be obliged to leave Captain Truman and half his company; but as soon as he is relieved by the infantry company, he will rejoin the squadron."

"We have been unable to make out that there is any Confederate force in this vicinity, with the exception of the Rangers who are just now struggling with the mud in the bog meadow near us," said Captain Gordon.

"How many of them are there?" asked the major.

"I am sure I don't know," replied the captain.

"I counted eighty-one of them, including Captain Dingfield; but some few of them had escaped through the mud to the hill on the other side of the bog," said Deck, who was always doing some useful work when he found a chance.

"As many as that; perhaps half a company is not force enough to leave with you, Captain Truman," suggested the major.

"Quite enough, Major Lyon; for we should have to act mainly on the defensive," replied the captain of the second company. "My men have fought the Texans once to-day; and though they are brave and daring fellows, they are not such terrible bugbears as they have been represented to be. But infantry can guard the bridge better than cavalry."

"The infantry will probably relieve you by to-morrow. If the Texans, with their bridge-burners, were out of the way, I need leave no force," added the major.

"But we can put them out of the way very easily," suggested Captain Gordon.

"Do you mean to shoot them down as they stick in the mud there? We are not murderers, Captain," replied the major sternly.

"I meant nothing of the kind," returned the captain with a blush. "I could have ordered my men to do that before it appeared that the action was finished."

"Pardon me, Captain; I know you are not a murderer."

"They are stuck fast there, eighty-one of them, according to Deck's figures; and we can make prisoners of them as they get out of the bog, as I think they will before morning, for they have hit upon an effective plan."

"It would take one of our companies to capture them, and to dispose of them as prisoners, so that we should gain nothing," replied the major, vetoing the plan at once. "The Union Home Guards may be here early in the morning, for they have had time enough to make the march."

The meeting closed; and officers and privates were tired enough after the long day to wrap themselves in their blankets and sleep.