our partner and the
others, and be here in the mornin', when we send for you?"

"You won't send for me, if yo'uns is a-gwine on ter fout we'uns up at
the mill. We'uns chaw yo'uns up, or run y' outen the country."

"We'll take care o' that," said Si sharply. "Will you promise on your
honor to stay with these men, and take care o' them till daylight, if we
don't come sooner?"

"Sartin,--'pon honor," answered the rebel, with his mouth full of
tobacco.

"All right, then. Load at will. Load! Forward!--March!" commanded Si.

Si moved on cautiously, for he feared that the runaways had told those
attacking the mill about his advance, and would bring them all down upon
him. The dying down of the firing about the mill confirmed this opinion.
He warned his boys to make as little noise as possible, and went ahead
of them some distance, to reconnoiter, slipping along the side of the
road, under the shadow of the trees. He arranged a system of signals
with Shorty, by which one click of his gunlock meant halt, and two to
come ahead. Presently he came in sight of the broad race which ran to
the mill. The starlight was sufficient to show its width and its banks,
with the logs lying along, which had been cut when it was dug. A bridge
crossed the race for the road to the mill. Beyond the ground rose
sharply, and looking at the crest against the sky, he could see the
rebels, one by one, file over, and come down to where they could crouch
behind the logs and ambuscade the bridge.

Si clicked his gunlock, and waited till he had counted 25 rebels
gathered there, which seemed to be all, as no more appeared. Then he
slipped back to Shorty, and hurriedly explained the situation.

The boys listened with sinking hearts. More than three times as many
rebels as they themselves numbered, and perhaps fiercer and stronger
than those they had already encountered.

The elation of their recent victory subsided. Again the woods became
ominously dark and gloomy, the soaking dampness very depressing. They
huddled together to brace each other up.

"Si," said Shorty, "didn't you say that it was a squad o' the Maumee
Muskrats in the mill, and that we wuz goin' to relieve 'em."

"Yes, and the Orderly said that railroad 'Mick'--Hennessey--was the
Sarjint in command."

"O, that bog-trottin' old section boss, that hairy-handed artist with the
long shovel, is there, is he with his crucifix and his prayers to the
Saints. That's all right. He's bin stormi