, and fell back, and in a few seconds more was out of
the major's sight.

Deck's ruse had succeeded, but he knew that the success would be of
uncertain duration. His position was a perilous one, for discovery would
more than likely mean death.

Anxious to make the most of the present opportunity, he began to
retreat, hoping to gain the position his command occupied and give the
necessary instructions to capture the Confederates as they crossed the
stream on the opposite side of the island.

He reached the trunk of the tree and was on the point of moving to the
outer branches, when a voice from below startled him.

"Wot yer doin' with thet Union suit on?"

Looking down, Deck saw a sharpshooter gazing up at him. The Confederate
had his gun to his shoulder and the barrel was pointed directly for the
major's head.

"Got to wear something," answered Deck, speaking as calmly as he could,
although he was somewhat shocked by the salutation.

"Ain't you a Yank?" was the next question put.

"A Yank! over here?" queried Deck, in pretended astonishment.

The Confederate sharpshooter was silent for an instant, and shifted an
immense quid of plug tobacco from one cheek to the other.

"Say, Major, tumble down right yere!" he ordered abruptly.

"Supposing I won't come down?"

"Then I'll have to tumble you."

"So you take me for a Union man?"

"I reckon I take you for a prisoner, or a corpse. Which is it?"

"I haven't any desire to become a corpse," answered Deck.

"Then you'll come down? Correct, Major. Toss them pistols down fust,
though."

[Illustration: "SAY, MAJOR, TUMBLE DOWN RIGHT YERE!"

_Page_ 352.]

The gun was still pointed at Deck's head while the sharpshooter remained
partly screened by some brush. As there seemed no help for it Deck threw
down his pistol and also an extra revolver he had lately taken to
carrying. His sabre had been left in Life Knox's charge.

"Now come down, and no funny work," went on the Confederate. "I reckon
you didn't reckon on bein' took so quick like, did ye?"

"I didn't reckon on 'bein' took' at all," answered Deck. It was an easy
matter to descend to the ground and soon he found himself standing
beside the man. He was a brawny mountaineer, all of six feet in height
and the picture of rugged health and strength. There was no doubt but
that he was a crack shot and would not hesitate to pull a trigger
whenever the occasion required.

"We-uns is lucky," murmured the mounta