ter men were veterans now, and they were not afraid. Standing
among the bushes or sheltered by the trees they held their fire until
they saw dusky figures in the thickets.

It had all the aspects of an old Indian battle in the depths of the
great forest. Darkness, the ambush and the caution of sharpshooters were
there. Dick carried a rifle, but he did not use it. He merely watched
the pink beads of flame among the bushes, while he stayed by the side of
his colonel and observed the combat.

It soon became apparent to him that it would have no definite result.
Each side was merely feeling out its foe that night, and would not force
the issue. Yet the Southern line approached and some bullets whistled
near him. He moved a little to one side, and watched for an enemy. It
was annoying to have bullets come so close, and since they were shooting
at him he might as well shoot at them.

While he was absorbed in watching, the colonel moved in the other
direction, and Dick stood alone behind a bush. The fire in front had
increased somewhat, although at no time was it violent. Occasional shots
from his own side replied. The clouds that had drifted away were now
drifting back, and he believed that darkness alone would soon end the
combat.

Then he saw a bush only a dozen yards in his front move a little, and a
face peered through its branches. There was yet enough light for him
to see that the face was youthful, eager and handsome. It was familiar,
too, and then with a shock he remembered. Woodville, the lad with whom
he had fought such a good fight, nature's weapons used, was before him.

Dick raised his rifle. Young Woodville was an easy target. But the
motion was only a physical impulse. He knew in his heart that he had
no intention of shooting the young Southerner, and he did not feel the
slightest tinge of remorse because he evaded this part of a soldier's
work.

Yet Woodville, seeing nobody and hearing nothing, would come on. Dick,
holding his rifle in the crook of his left arm, drew a pistol and fired
it over the lad's head. At the same moment he dropped almost flat upon
the ground. The bullet cut the leaves above Woodville and he sprang
back, startled. A half-dozen Southern skirmishers fired at the flash
of Dick's pistol, but he, too, lying on the ground, heard them cutting
leaves over his head.

Dick saw the face of Woodville disappear from the bush, and then he
crept away, rejoining Colonel Winchester and his comra