for our movements. We
dare not even cheer, for fear they'll find out how few are left of us.
All of you keep a lookout, and follow right after me when I start, for I
won't give any order."

Then all his consciousness seemed to wake up at once into an agony of
fear of being left behind to fall into the hands of the rebels. He made
a desperate effort to call out, but his tongue seemed dry and useless
as a cornhusk in his parched mouth, and his throat too burning hot to
perform its office. Nor could he lift a finger nor move a toe.

He found room for anger at Shorty that he did not look him up, and
satisfy himself as to his condition, and Lieut. Bowersox and the rest
seemed selfishly thoughtful of their own safety and neglectful of his.

He listened in agony to the regiment on the right marching off, to
the cautions and admonitions given those who were carrying off the
badly-wounded, and then to Lieut. Bowersox starting off with the right
of the 200th Ind.

Then he heard little Abel Waite say:

"I know that Si Klegg has some things on him that his folks' d like
to have. I know where they live. I'm goin' to git 'em, and send 'em to
'em."

"Make haste, then, young feller," he heard Wat Burnham growl. "Don't let
the rebels ketch yer. We're movin' now."

He heard Abel Waite's steps running toward him, and felt his hands
thrust into his blouse pocket over his breast. Then the boy said with a
start of surprise:

"Why, he's alive yet. Come here, Wat."

Wat and the Irishmen hastened to him. He felt

Wat's hand laid on his breast, and then held over his mouth.

"'E's certainly warm yet. Hand 'e breathes."

Shorty made a violent effort, and summoned enough strength to reach over
and touch the Englishman's foot.

"The tall feller's alive, too," said Wat.

"We must take 'em along with us," said Abel Waite excitedly.

"Yes, but 'ow?" growled the Englishman. "Don't speak so loud, you young
brat. Do you want to hopen hup that 'ell's kitchen hagin?"

"The Liftinant's far down the hill wid the regiment," said Barney
McGrath. "There's no toime to sind for him. Here, lit's pick thim up an'
carry thim down to the wagon."

He put his hand under Si's shoulder. The others did the same, Wat
lifting Shorty's feet.

"Halt, there, you Yanks, and surrender," said a stern voice just behind
Wat.

Wat looked back over his shoulder and saw a single adventurous rebel
who, divining what was going on, had slipped forward in the dark