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.
[Illustration: "'I--I--am afraid he is dead.'"]
"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.