od deal at times.

But Artie, youthful as he was, did not quail. As rapidly as it could be
accomplished, he wheeled to one side and shouted to his first line to
"Take aim--fire!" And the blaze of the carbines caused a temporary
check.

As the Confederates came on again, the second line emptied their
weapons. Again there was a halt, and the enemy's line split, as though
the men had thought better of it and were desirous of running around the
Union soldiers.

Artie saw the movement and turned to Captain Richland. "I can take care
of the crowd on the right," he said.

"All right; I'll take that on the left," was the quick reply, and the
third company of the first battalion opened fire, while Artie's command
double-quicked to the new position indicated.

Again came a charge against the fourth company. But the force of the
Confederates now numbered but eighteen, and with two men shot down they
retreated as quickly as they had charged, and sought shelter behind the
cotton mill. Here the first company dislodged them, and then they threw
down their arms.

The other wing, led by the impetuous captain, hurled itself against
Captain Richland's company. The Confederate leader was supported by half
a dozen "fire-eaters," and about two score men; and although the charge
was not entirely successful, yet in the general melee resulting, the
captain and about half of those behind him managed to escape. The others
were either shot down or added to the prisoners previously taken.

The mill was now burning furiously at one end, making one of the
hottest fires the Lyon boys had ever witnessed. In it were stored
hundreds of bales of cotton which the owners had been trying to work off
in one way or another for months, but without success, for the cotton
trade of the Southern states was glutted, the blockade runners from
Europe carrying away only a small portion of the product.

"That building is doomed," observed Deck to Artie, who had come up,
breathing heavily after his hard work in disarming a burly ruffian who
had tried to cut him down from behind. "We may as well move on with our
prisoners."

Deck had scarcely spoken, when a cry rent the air. The cry came in a
man's voice, and was full of agony and terror.

"Help! help! help!"

"The cry comes from the other end of the mill," exclaimed Artie. "Come
on around and see what is up," and he ran off; for he was on foot, as
was also the major.

The end to which the captain had ref