at means?"

"That's the Headquarters bugle," said Si, pricking up his ears. "That's
'Attention.' Git your traps together, boys. 'Assembly' 'll come next."

"Good gracious!" gasped Alf Russell, coming out from behind the bushes,
"they don't expect us to do any more fighting today, do they?"

"Very likely," said Shorty, helping Pete Skidmore on with his
blanket-roll. "The job ain't done till it is done, and there's lots o'
rebels over there yit who need lickin'. Now's the best time to finish
it. This ain't nothin' to Stone River and Chickamaugy. Got your canteen
full, Pete? Better fill it before we start. Take mine, too. Don't go any
further'n that first spring there, for I don't want to take no chances
on losin' you again."

The cannonading in the distance grew fiercer, and regiments could be
seen rushing up at the doublequick. Long, shrill rebel yells came from
the hilltops, and were answered by volleys and deep-toned cheers.

Another bugle-call rang out from Brigade Headquarters.

"Fall in, Co. Q," sharply commanded the Orderly-Sergeant.

With a shiver of apprehension, with a nervous memory of the bitter hours
just past, with the sight before their eyes of the scarcely-cold dead,
the remainder of the company fell in with sadly-shrunken ranks.

"Orderly, we need some more cartridges," suggested Shorty.

"I've been thinking of that," replied the Orderly, "and wondering where
to go for them."

"I saw some boxes of Enfields up there toward the battery," said Si.
"The rebels left 'em. They'll fit our guns, and them English cartridges
is just as good as ours."

"Pike over and get them, quick, before the other fellows drop on to
'em," said the Orderly.

"Gracious! going to shoot the rebels with their own bullets," remarked
Monty, who had nearly recovered, and came up pluckily to take his place
in the ranks. "Isn't that great medicine! How I should like to pop one
into that fellow that belted me with that bowlder."

"Hello, Monty," called Shorty jovially to drive out the sad thoughts.
"Got that kink out o' your backbone? Bully boy. You've got the right
kind of nerve. You'll be a man before your mother yet."

"Yes, and I'm here, too, and don't you forget it," said Alf Russell, not
to be outdone by Monty nor unnoticed. "By rights, I ought to be in the
hospital."

"By rights, I ought to be a Jigadier-Brindle," retorted Shorty, "but I
never could git Abe Lincoln to take that view of it. Here, fill up your
cartrid