outhern force had a
chance to tear up the rails, but there was no use for the train without
the troops and they were already marching as fast as they could.

The gorge was now not more than a quarter of a mile away. Dick was able
to discern it, because the darkness there was not quite so dark as that
which lay against the mountains on either side. He was hopeful that they
might yet reach it before the Southern force could close down upon them,
but before they went many yards further he heard the beat of horses'
feet both to right and left and knew that the enemy was at hand.

"Take the train on through the pass, Canby!" shouted Colonel Newcomb.
"We'll cover its retreat, and join you later--if we can."

The train began to rattle and roar, and its speed increased. Showers
of sparks shot from the funnels of the two engines, and gleamed for
an instant in the darkness. The beat of horses' feet grew to thunder.
Colonel Newcomb with great presence of mind drew the two parallel lines
of his men close together, and ordered them to lie down on either side
of the railroad track and face outward with cocked rifles. Dick, the
Vermonter, and Sergeant Whitley lay close together, and the three faced
the north.

"See the torches!" said Whitley.

Dick saw eight or ten torches wavering and flickering at a height of
seven or eight feet above the ground, and he knew that they were carried
by horsemen, but he could not see either men or horses beneath. Then the
rapid beat of hoofs ceased abruptly at a distance that Dick thought must
be about two hundred yards.

"Lie flat!" cried Whitley. "They're about to fire!"

CHAPTER III. THE TELEGRAPH STATION

The darkness to the north was suddenly split apart by a solid sheet of
flame. Dick by the light saw many men on horseback and others on foot,
bridle rein over arm. It was well for the seven hundred boys that they
had pressed themselves against the solid earth. A sheet of bullets swept
toward them. Most passed over their heads, but many struck upon bones
and flesh, and cries of pain rose from the lines of men lying along the
railroad track.

The seven hundred pulled trigger and fired at the flash. They fired
so well that Dick could hear Southern horses neighing with pain, and
struggling in the darkness. He felt sure that many men, too, had been
hit. At least no charge came. The seven hundred shouted with exultation
and, leaping to their feet, prepared to fire a second volley. But