lest he should be caught off his guard. But Deck was still
self-possessed, and perhaps the excellent advice of his father saved
his life. Life Knox was not afraid of anything, but he trembled for the
safety of his lieutenant. He sought a position where he could put a
bullet through the brain of the brave Confederate, though he felt that
it would be mean to do so. Fortunately for him the sergeant could find
no such position.

Ceph, the name of Deck's noble steed, which had been abbreviated from
Bucephalus, seemed to Life, whose attention was fixed upon his officer,
restive and uneasy: but his rider did not bring him into a leaping
posture, as he had done on a former occasion, and had been charged by
his superiors with reckless daring; but the charger suddenly stood up
on his hind feet, as though he intended to attempt the leap over the
Confederate officer's horse on his own responsibility.

But the other steed was too tall for him, and his rider reined him in.
At the moment when he was elevated above the head of his opponent, Deck
seized his opportunity to deliver a blow upon the head of his foe with
his sabre. It struck him on the side of the head, above the ear,
cleaving his skull, and he dropped from his horse like a lump of lead.
Life was happily relieved at the result of this furious conflict.

He had not been idle during the affair; for he had sent two of his men
to remove the fence at the side of the road, and Fronklyn had done the
same on the other side. The moment the enemy's brave leader had fallen
from his horse, the sergeant ordered his men into the road, leading the
way himself, and the other sergeant on the left had followed his
example.

"Squad--attention!" shouted the orderly sergeant, after he had formed
the troopers in two ranks. "Forward--march!"

He led the charge himself; and they delivered a volley of blows and
thrusts, as occasion served them, which ended the strife in less than
another moment. Several of the Confederates cried "Quarter!" and not
another blow was struck after the word was heard.

"Who is in command of this company now?" asked Deck, as he and his men
moved out of the tangle to the sides of the road.

"Leftenant Logan," replied a wounded trooper who had a sabre-cut on the
side of his face which was bleeding profusely.

"The fall of Captain Letcher leaves me in command," said this officer,
approaching the young lieutenant.

"Do you surrender, Lieutenant Logan?" asked Deck, a