CHAPTER III

THE TELEGRAPH STATION


The darkness to the north was suddenly split apart by a solid sheet of
flame. Dick by the light saw many men on horseback and others on foot,
bridle rein over arm. It was well for the seven hundred boys that they
had pressed themselves against the solid earth. A sheet of bullets
swept toward them. Most passed over their heads, but many struck upon
bones and flesh, and cries of pain rose from the lines of men lying
along the railroad track.

The seven hundred pulled trigger and fired at the flash. They fired
so well that Dick could hear Southern horses neighing with pain, and
struggling in the darkness. He felt sure that many men, too, had
been hit. At least no charge came. The seven hundred shouted with
exultation and, leaping to their feet, prepared to fire a second volley.
But the swift command of their officers quickly put them down again.

"Don't forget the other Confederate column to the south of us,"
whispered Whitley. "They did not fire at first for fear their bullets
would pass over our heads and strike their own comrades. For the same
reason they must have dropped back a little in order to avoid the fire
of their friends. Their volley will come from an angle about midway
between our left and rear."

Just as he spoke the last words the rifles flashed at the surmised angle
and again the bullets beat among the young troops or swept over their