just as Dan
fired again. This time Chad lurched in his saddle, but recovering
himself, turned and galloped slowly away, while Dan--his pistol hanging
at his side--stared after him, and the wondering rebels behind the
hedge stared hard at Dan.

. . . . .

All was over. The Fourth Ohio Cavalry was in rebel hands, and a few
minutes later Dan rode with General Morgan and Colonel Hunt toward the
Yankee camp. There had been many blunders in the fight. Regiments had
fired into each other in the confusion and the "Bull Pups" had kept on
pounding the Yankee camp even while the rebels were taking possession
of it. On the way they met Renfrew, the Silent, in his brilliant Zouave
jacket.

"Colonel," he said, indignantly--and it was the first time many had
ever heard him open his lips--"some officer over there deliberately
fired twice at me, though I was holding my arms over my head."

"It was dark," said Colonel Hunt, soothingly. "He didn't know you."

"Ah, Colonel, he might not have known me--but he must have known this
jacket."

On the outskirts of one group of prisoners was a tall, slender young
lieutenant with a streak of blood across one cheek. Dan pulled in his
horse and the two met each other's eyes silently. Dan threw himself
from his horse.

"Are you hurt, Harry?"

"It's nothing--but you've got me, Dan."

"Why, Harry!" said Morgan. "Is that you? You are paroled, my boy," he
added, kindly. "Go home and stay until you are exchanged."

So, Harry, as a prisoner, did what he had not done before--he went home
immediately. And home with him went Dan and Colonel Hunt, while they
could, for the Yankees would soon be after them from the north, east,
south and west. Behind them trotted Rebel Jerry. On the edge of town
they saw a negro lashing a pair of horses along the turnpike toward
them. Two white faced women were seated in a carriage behind him, and
in a moment Dan was in the arms of his mother and sister and both women
were looking, through tears, their speechless gratitude to Richard Hunt.

The three Confederates did not stay long at the Deans'. Jerry Dillon
was on the lookout, and even while the Deans were at dinner, Rufus ran
in with the familiar cry that Yankees were coming. It was a regiment
from an adjoining county, but Colonel Hunt finished his coffee, amid
all the excitement, most leisurely.

"You'll pardon us for eating and running, won't you, Mrs. Dean?" It was
the first time in her life that Mrs. Dean