!--Well, better your hat than you, sir! We'll blow that
sharpshooter where he can look out of window sure enough! Match's ready,
sir."

Ashby put back on his head the soft wide hat with a bullet hole beside
the black plume. "No, no, West! We can't take chances like that! We'll
break open the door instead."

"The others think that the Tiger was mistaken, sir. They say all the
women went out of the other houses, and they're sure they went out of
this one, too. Shan't we fire, sir?"

"No, no! We can't take chances. Limber up, lieutenant, and move on with
the others.--Volunteers to break open that door!"

"Ain't nobody looking," thought Steve, behind the wall. "Gawd! I reckon
I'll have to try my luck again. 'T won't do to stay here." To the big
Irishman he said, "Reckon I'll try again to find my company! I don't
want to be left behind. Old Jack's going to drive them, and he needs
every fighter!"

CHAPTER XXII

THE VALLEY PIKE

As he moved away from the stone house, the vicinity of Ashby and the
line of Tigers behind the fence, he became aware that not a small
portion of Wheat's Battalion had broken ranks and was looting the
wagons. There were soldiers like grey ants about a sutler's wagon.
Steve, struggling and shouldering boldly enough now, managed to get
within hailing distance. Men were standing on the wheels, drawing out
boxes and barrels and throwing them down into the road, where the ants
swarmed to the attack. Not the Tigers alone, but a number of Ashby's men
as well engaged in the general business. The latter, either not so
hungry or more valiant to abstain from the smaller rifling, turned to
the plunder of horses. There were horses enough, dead and wounded, along
that frightful road. Others were unhurt, still harnessed to wagons, or
corralled in fence corners, or huddled with prisoners in the trodden
fields. Horses, to the trooper of the Valley, were as horses in the ten
years' war at Troy--the prized spoil of battle, the valued trophies,
utilities outweighing all filagree spoil. Each man of Ashby's owned the
horse he rode, burned to provide himself with a second mount, and flamed
to be able to say at home, "This horse I took at Middletown, just before
we drove the Yankees out of the Valley and ended the war!" "Home," for
many of them was not at all distant--gallop a few miles, deposit the
prize, return, catch up before Winchester! Wild courage, much manliness,
much chivalry, ardent devotion to Ash