the
swift command of their officers quickly put them down again.

"Don't forget the other Confederate column to the south of us,"
whispered Whitley. "They did not fire at first for fear their bullets
would pass over our heads and strike their own comrades. For the same
reason they must have dropped back a little in order to avoid the fire
of their friends. Their volley will come from an angle about midway
between our left and rear."

Just as he spoke the last words the rifles flashed at the surmised angle
and again the bullets beat among the young troops or swept over their
heads. A soldier was killed only a few feet from Dick. The boy picked up
his rifle and ammunition and began to fire whenever he saw the flash of
an opposing weapon. But the fire of both Confederate columns ceased in
a minute or two, and not a shot nor the sound of a single order came out
of the darkness. But Dick with his ear to the soft earth, could hear the
crush of hoofs in the mud, and with a peculiar ability to discern whence
sound came he knew that the force on the left and rear was crossing
the railroad track in order to join their comrades on the north. He
whispered his knowledge to Whitley, who whispered back:

"It's the natural thing for them to do. They could not afford to fight
on in the darkness with two separate forces. The two columns would soon
be firing into each other."

Colonel Newcomb now gave an order for the men to rise and follow the
railroad track, but also to fire at the flash of the rifles whenever
a volley was poured upon them. He must not only beat off the Southern
attack, but also continue the journey to those points in the west where
they were needed so sorely. Some of his men had been killed, and he
was compelled to leave their bodies where they had fallen. Others were
wounded, but without exception they were helped along by their comrades.

Warner also had secured a rifle, with which he fired occasionally, but
he and Dick, despite the darkness, kept near to Colonel Newcomb in
order that they might deliver any orders that he should choose to give.
Sergeant Whitley was close to them. Dick presently heard the rush of
water.

"What is that?" he exclaimed.

"It's the little river that runs down the valley," replied Warner.
"There's a slope here and it comes like a torrent. A bridge or rather
trestle is only a little further, and we've got to walk the ties, if we
reach the other side. They'll make their heaviest rush