Chapter 12

THE FIGHT AT THE FORD

The sentry slackened his walk and rubbed his sleepy eyes. It was almost time for his relief. He glanced behind him at the motionless figures lying around the ashes of the camp fire. If it had been a bivouac of the dead the silence could not have been more profound. Even Lloyd had dropped into the heavy sleep that comes in the early hours of the morning. The guerilla gazed for a moment at the other sentries, dim shadowy forms in the early dawn; then continued on his way. He had almost reached the evergreen which marked the end of his patrol, when a faint, very faint, sound in the woods to his left caused him to wheel in that direction. Surely something moved among the trees. Instantly his challenge rang out:

"Who goes there? Halt! _Halt!_ or I fire!"

A flash--a loud report! Tucker sprang to his feet as the camp awoke.

"Up, men, up!" he roared. "Secure the prisoners; then mount."

Goddard, who had jumped up, stood bewildered for a second; then dashed toward Nancy's tent. A burly guerilla clutched him by the shoulder, but Goddard sent him reeling back with a well directed blow, and continued his race to the tent. He must shield Nancy.

"Stop, Goddard!" thundered Tucker. "Remember your parole."

"No parole holds in the presence of a rescue," panted Goddard. "Lloyd, Lloyd, this way, man!"

Frightened by the sudden commotion and firing, Nancy stepped out of the tent, followed by Miss Metoaca, and paused, uncertain where to go, or what to do. To his horror, Goddard saw a guerilla seize her roughly and push her toward the plunging, frightened horses. Miss Metoaca screamed.

With a bound Goddard threw himself forward and grappled with the man, who knocked Nancy roughly to one side the better to tackle the Union officer. Reeling backward and forward, the two men fought locked in a close embrace. The guerilla grasped an old pistol in his right hand, and tried desperately to use it; but Goddard kept its muzzle turned skyward, and gradually forced the man's arm, folded, against the other's chest. Suddenly the guerilla tripped and stumbled backward, carrying Goddard down on top of him as he fell. A flash, a deafening report; the red-hot flame seared Goddard's face and forehead, and he sank into oblivion.

Tucker, whose right arm dangled helpless by his side, tried desperately to rally his men. They had sought what shelter they could and were returning the enemies' fire frantically.

"Secure the prisoners!" he shouted again and again. "Then to horse!"

Before his orders could be obeyed the Federals came crashing, bounding through the trees. The guerillas sent a volley into the advancing men; then turned and dashed for their horses. One moment of wild confusion, and they were in full flight, pursued by the cheering Federals. Tucker, seeing it was hopeless, dug spurs into his horse and raced after his men.

"Bob, Bob, where are you?" bellowed a stentorian voice, and a tall figure came sprinting toward the camp fire.

"Here," called Nancy. She was crouching by Goddard's body. Captain Gurley sped in the direction of her voice.

"Nancy," he gasped. "Safe, thank God! But--where's Bob?"

"Here," Nancy again bent over the motionless man. "I--I--am afraid he is dead." The hopeless misery of her voice was not noticed by Gurley, who had dropped on his knees beside Goddard.

"This light may help you." Miss Metoaca reappeared on the scene with a candle in her hand. "The daylight is too dim in these woods to tell what is the matter with the major, so I went to get this candle out of my bag. Why, John, where did you drop from?"

"Winchester," was the brief reply, as Gurley examined Goddard's condition. "Belden, one of Colonel Young's spies, saw your capture. He followed you some distance to discover which road you took, then returned to the cantonment and reported. I was ordered in pursuit, and brought Belden with me. He knows this country by heart, so we were able to steal up on the camp and surprise the guerillas."

"It was splendidly done," declared Lloyd, who had silently approached in time to hear Gurley's last remarks. "I cannot express my thanks and admiration for your gallant rescue." Seeing Gurley's start of surprise and suspicion, he hastened to add: "I am Captain George Lloyd, of the Secret Service"; then in another tone, "Is Bob badly hurt?"

"Can't tell yet," grunted Gurley. Nancy was gently wiping the powder-stained and bleeding face with some water which Symonds had brought her. "I think he is only stunned. Apparently the bullet did not penetrate; these are only flesh wounds," touching Goddard's face tenderly. "The powder has burned off his eyebrows, too. Miss Metoaca, have you any clothes which I can use for bandages?"

Without answering, the spinster hastened to her tent; she returned in a few moments with the necessary article and, pulling the edges of the wounds together, Gurley bandaged them as best he could.

"Won't a sip of this do him good?" inquired Miss Metoaca, unscrewing the stopper of a small flask. Lloyd forced some of the brandy down Goddard's throat. Quickly the stimulant took effect, and his eyelids fluttered faintly.

"He will come round all right," said Gurley, much relieved. "How soon can you and Nancy be ready to start for Winchester, Miss Metoaca?"

"We are ready now," was the prompt reply, "for we did not undress or unpack our bags last night."

"Good. Then we will leave at once; for we must get back inside our lines as quickly as possible. Mosby will hear of this skirmish, and may send a superior force after us. By the way, Miss Metoaca, did you ride or drive from Stevenson's Depot?"

"Drove in an open two-seated wagon."

"In that case I will put Major Goddard in the wagon with you. And you, Captain Lloyd?"

"If you will permit me, I will ride Major Goddard's mare; that is, if she hasn't been stampeded, or carried off by the guerillas. Symonds, my assistant, who drove the ladies, can surely drive them back."

"All right." Gurley nodded curtly. "I see no objection to that plan. Will you assist the ladies in getting their belongings into the wagon? I must see if there are any casualties among our men. Orderly, stay here with Major Goddard, and let me know instantly if he regains consciousness."

The troopers were returning from their fruitless pursuit of the guerillas, and they congregated about the lieutenant, who was busy examining the prisoners.

"Nine prisoners, Captain," he reported, as Gurley strode up. "Wounded, but not badly enough to prevent their riding. Five guerillas were killed, and three of our men. They are lying yonder," pointing to a clump of trees.

"Were any of our men wounded?"

"Three have flesh wounds--nothing serious."

"Then bury the dead as quickly as you can...."

"Is Major Goddard dead?" inquired the lieutenant anxiously, not waiting for his superior to finish his sentence.

"No, indeed," cheerily, "simply stunned by the explosion of an old pistol before his face. Sergeant, take some men and carry Major Goddard over to that wagon standing by the roadside."

Symonds had removed one of the long cushions belonging to the back wagon seat, and the men carefully lifted Goddard on it, and carried him as gently as possible and placed him in the wagon.

"Sit here, Nancy," directed Gurley, "and hold on to Bob; otherwise I am afraid he will fall out."

Nancy sprang into the wagon and made Goddard as comfortable as she could. Miss Metoaca, who had been occupied in putting her luggage under the seat, clambered into the vehicle and sat down by Symonds. The mules had been hitched to the wagon by the sergeant and two troopers.

"All ready, Miss Metoaca?" asked Gurley, tucking the laprobe around the spinster. "Bugler, sound 'Boots and Saddles.'"

As the call ended man after man filed out into the path leading his horse, and the ranks were rapidly formed by Sergeant Crane. A few swift orders, and the troop started on their return trip to Winchester, the wagon, followed by the mounted prisoners, in their midst.