ike, the six-mile-long retreat from Strasburg, was making,
too, a progress not unrapid, considering the immensity of its wagon
train and the uncertainty of the commanding general as to what, on the
whole, it might be best to do. The Confederate advance, it was evident,
would strike the pike at Middletown in less than fifteen minutes.

Stafford and his men left the hill, entered a body of woods running
toward the village, and three minutes later encountered a detachment of
blue horsemen, flankers of Hatch's large cavalry force convoying the
Federal wagon train. There was a shout, and an interchange of pistol
shots. The blue outnumbered the grey four to one. The latter wheeled
their horses, used spur and voice, outstripped a shower of bullets and
reached Middletown. When, breathless, they drew rein before a street
down which grey infantry poured to the onslaught, one of the men,
pressing up to Stafford, made his report. "That damned deserter,
sir!--in the scrimmage a moment ago he must have slipped off. I'm
sorry--but I don't reckon he's much loss."

Steve had taken refuge behind the lock of a rail fence draped with
creeper. On the whole, he meant to stay there until the two armies had
wended their ways. When it was all done and over, he would make a change
somehow and creep to the southward and get a doctor's certificate. All
this in the first gasp of relief, at the end of which moment it became
apparent that the blue cavalry had seen him run to cover. A couple of
troopers rode toward the rail fence. Steve stepped from behind the
creepers and surrendered. "Thar are Daggs up North anyway," he explained
to the man who took his musket. "I've a pack of third cousins in them
parts somewhere. I shouldn't wonder if they weren't fighting on your
side this dog-goned minute! I reckon I'd as lief fight there myself."

The soldier took him to his officer. "It's a damned deserter, sir. Says
he's got cousins with us. Says he'd as soon fight on one side as the
other."

"I can't very well fight nowhere," whined Steve. "If you'd be so good as
to look at my foot, sir--"

"I see. You deserted and they picked you up. Very well, Mr. Deserter, I
want some information and you're the man to give it to me."

Steve gave it without undue reluctance. "What in hell does it matter,
anyway?" he thought, "they'll find out damned quick anyhow about numbers
and that we aren't only Ewell. Gawd! Old Jack's struck them this very
minute! I hear the gun