More than twenty dead were left in the valley for
the enemy to bury.

Despite all the commands and efforts of the officers there was much
excited talk in the train. Boys were binding up wounds of other boys and
were condoling with them. But on the whole they were exultant. Youth
did not realize the loss of those who had been with them so little.
Scattered exclamations came to Dick:

"We beat 'em off that time, an' we can do it again."

"Lucky though we had that little river before us. Guess they'd have rode
us right down with their horses if it hadn't been for the stream an' its
banks."

"Ouch, don't draw that bandage so tight on my arm. It ain't nothin' but
a flesh wound."

"I hate a battle in the dark. Give me the good sunshine, where you can
see what's goin' on. My God, that you Bill! I'm tremendous glad to see
you! I thought you was lyin' still, back there in the grass!"

Dick said nothing. He was in a seat next to the window, and his face was
pressed against the rain-marked pane. The rifle that he had picked up
and used so well was still clutched, grimed with smoke, in his hands.
The train had not yet got up speed. He caught glimpses of the river
behind which they had fought, and which had served them so well as a
barrier. In fact, he knew that it had saved them. But they had beaten
off the enemy! The pulses in his temples still throbbed from exertion
and excitement, but his heart beat exultantly. The bitterness of Bull
Run was deep and it had lasted long, but here they were the victors.

The speed of the train increased and Dick knew that they were safe from
further attack. They were still running among mountains, clad heavily
in forest, but a meeting with a second Southern force was beyond
probability. The first had made a quick raid on information supplied by
spies in Washington, but it had failed and the way was now clear.

Ample food was served somewhat late to the whole regiment, the last
wounds were bound up, and Dick, having put aside the rifle, fell asleep
at last. His head lay against the window and he slept heavily all
through the night. Warner in the next seat slept in the same way. But
the wise old sergeant just across the aisle remained awake much longer.
He was summing up and he concluded that the seven hundred lads had done
well. They were raw, but they were being whipped into shape.

He smiled a little grimly as the unspoken words, "whipped into shape,"
rose to his lips. The veteran of m