that when they drove us out of our
camps the temptation was too great for many of their men. They scattered,
seizing our good food and devouring it. It was impossible for their
officers to restrain them. They've suffered losses too, and they can
drive us no farther."

Then Shepard spoke briefly with Colonel Winchester, and disappeared
again. The fire had now died somewhat and the banks of smoke were rising,
enabling Dick to see the field with a degree of clearness. Union
batteries and regiments were in line, but behind them a mass of fugitives,
who had not yet recovered from the surprise and who thought the defeat
complete, were pouring along the turnpike toward Winchester. When Dick
saw their numbers his fears were renewed. He believed that if the
Southern army could gather up all its forces and attack once more it
would win another success.

But while he looked at the long line of fire in front of them a sudden
roar of cheering rose from the Union ranks. It became a shout,
tremendous and thrilling. Dick turned in excitement and he was about to
ask what it meant, when he distinguished a name thundered again and again:

"Sheridan! Sheridan! Sheridan!"

Then before them galloped their own Little Phil, seeming to bring
strength, courage and victory with him. His hat was thrown back, his
face flushed, and his eyes sparkling. Everywhere the men rallied to his
call and the shouts: "Sheridan! Sheridan!" rolled up and down. The
fugitives too came pouring back to swell the line of battle. Dick
caught the enthusiasm at once, and felt his own pulses leaping. He
and Pennington and Warner joined in the shouts: "Sheridan! Sheridan!"
and snatching off their caps waved them with all their vigor.

It was an amazing transformation. A beaten and dispirited army, holding
on from a sense of duty, suddenly became alive with zeal, and asked only
to be led against the enemy by the general they trusted. One man alone
had worked the miracle and as his enemies had truly said his presence was
worth ten thousand men.

His coming had been dramatic. He had spent the night quietly at
Winchester, but, early in the morning, he had heard the sounds of firing
which steadily grew louder. Apprehensive, he rode at once toward the
distant field, and, before he had gone two miles, he met the first
stragglers, bringing wild tales that the army had been routed, and that
the Southerners were hot on their heels. Sheridan rode rapidly