round more
horses and men than before.

"What's them things 'zip-zippin' 'round my ears?" asked one of the
negro boys.

"Bullets," said Frank, proud of his knowledge.

"Will they hurt me if they hit me?"

[Illustration: "LOOK! LOOK! THEY ARE RUNNING! THEY ARE BEATING OUR
MEN!" EXCLAIMED THE BOYS.]

"Of course they will. They'll kill you."

"I'm gwine home," said the boy, and off he started at a trot.

"Hold on!--We're goin', too; but let's go down this way; this is the
best way."

They went along the edge of the field, toward the point in the road
where the skirmish had been and where the Confederates had rallied.
They stopped to listen to the popping in the woods on the other side,
and were just saying how glad they were that "our men had whipped
them," when a soldier came along.

"What in the name of goodness are you boys doing here?" he asked.

"We're just looking on an' lis'ning," answered the boys meekly.

"Well, you'd better be getting home as fast as you can. They are too
strong for us, and they'll be driving us back directly, and some of
you may get killed or run over."

This was dreadful! Such an idea had never occurred to the boys. A
panic took possession of them.

"Come on! Let's go home!" This was the universal idea, and in a second
the whole party were cutting straight for home, utterly stampeded.

They could readily have found shelter and security back over the hill,
from the flying balls; but they preferred to get home, and they made
straight for it. The popping of the guns, which still kept up in the
woods across the little river, now meant to them that the victorious
Yankees were driving back their friends. They believed that the
bullets which now and then yet whistled over the woods with a long,
singing "zoo-ee," were aimed at them. For their lives, then, they ran,
expecting to be killed every minute.

The load of cartridges in their pockets, which they had carried for
hours, weighed them down. As they ran they threw these out. Then
followed those in their sleeves. Frank and the other boys easily got
rid of theirs, but Willy had tied the strings around his wrists in
such hard knots that he could not possibly untie them. He was falling
behind.

Frank heard him call. Without slacking his speed he looked back over
his shoulder. Willy's face was red, and his mouth was twitching. He
was sobbing a little, and was tearing at the strings with his teeth as
he ran. Then the strings came loo