ed away on their
sheepskins--the fifers distended their cheeks till they resembled
blown bladders. In the midst of all this noise and tumult, the
undaunted Slorkey, and the indomitable Jalap, rushed to and fro, with
clanking scabbards, and brandished scythe blades, twin thunderbolts of
war.

"Forrard march!" roared Slorkey. With the yell of demons, his fierce
followers advanced to the onset, firing their blank cartridges with
desperate valor.

Equally alert were Major Ryely and his followers.

"Their swords were a thousand, their bosoms were one."

Their faces begrimed with powder, their eyes gleaming with ferocity,
they descended to the plain--an avalanche of heroes. The soul of
Headly would have swelled within him had he seen them.

For more than one hour that deadly consumption of blank cartridges
endured, and then Ryely and his troops retired in good order.

"Boys," said the major, "old Slorkey wants us to gin out--send a flag
of truce--a white pocket handkerchief on a beanpole--and propose to
surrender. But it goes agin my grit for Hardscrabble to cave in to
Dogtown, when we could knock the hindsights off 'em, if we was only a
mind to."

"Hurray for the major!" responded the Hardscrabblers.

"I've got a grudge agin the kurnil," said the major, "and if you'll
stand by me, I'll take it out of 'em. What say?"

"Agreed!" was the spontaneous response.

While Slorkey was waiting for the covenanted flag of truce, he saw the
hated Ryely rise in his stirrups, and heard his stentorian voice roar
out the word, "Charge!"

A deafening shout answered his appeal. In an instant Hardscrabble and
its allies were down on Dogtown and its defenders. The latter stood it
for a moment, but Ryely knocked the colonel off his horse, the surgeon
had his nose pulled, the Dogtown Blues justified their name by their
looks, and, seized with a sudden panic, fled--fled ingloriously from
their native training field. The audacious outrage was
consummated--history was violated--and General Washington was beaten by
Cornwallis.

Dire were the threats against Ryely uttered by the colonel, as he was
carried home on a shutter; nothing short of a court martial was his
slightest menace. But no court martial ever took place. The military
pride and glory of Dogtown were wounded to the quick; the force of
popular opinion compelled Slorkey to resign, and to consummate his
chagrin, his treacherous rival was chosen colonel of the regiment. So