her side across the open space, and two streams of
bullets crossed. In an instant the silver of the moonlight was hidden by
clouds of smoke through which flashed the fire from hundreds of rifles
and carbines. All around Dick's ears was the hissing sound of bullets,
like the alarm from serpents.

The fire at close range was so deadly to both sides that holes were
smashed in the mounted ranks. The shrill screams of wounded horses,
far more terrible than the cries of wounded men, struck like knife points
on the drums of Dick's ears. He saw Shepard's horse go down, killed
instantly by a heavy bullet, but the spy himself leaped clear, and
then Dick lost him in the smoke. A bullet grazed his own wrist and he
glanced curiously at the thin trickle of blood that came from it. Yet,
forgetting it the next instant, he waved his saber above his head,
and began to shout to the men.

Rifles and pistols emptied, the Southern horsemen were preparing to
charge. The lifting smoke disclosed a long line of tossing manes and
flashing steel. At either end of the line a shrill trumpet was sounding
the charge, and the Northern bugles were responding with the same
command. The two forces were about to meet in that most terrible of all
combats, a cavalry charge by either side, when enemies looked into the
eyes of one another, and strong hands swung aloft the naked steel,
glittering in the moonlight.

"Bend low in the saddle," exclaimed the sergeant, "and then you'll miss
many a stroke!"

Dick obeyed promptly and their whole line swept forward over the grass to
meet the men in gray who were coming so swiftly against them. He saw a
thousand sabers uplifted, making a stream of light, and then the two
forces crashed together. It seemed to him that it was the impact of one
solid body upon another as solid, and then so much blood rushed to his
head that he could not see clearly. He was conscious only of a mighty
crash, of falling bodies, sweeping sabers, that terrible neigh again of
wounded horses, of sun-tanned faces, and of fierce eyes staring into his
own, and then, as the red mist thinned a little, he became conscious that
someone just before him was slashing at him with a long, keen blade.
He bent yet lower, and the sword passed over him, but as he rose a little
he cut back. His edge touched only the air, but he uttered a gasp of
horror as he saw Harry Kenton directly before him, and knew that they had
been striking at each other.