a man that I meant for my bullet to hit."

"You won't have to do any such work, Frank," said Warner. "Hark to it!
The sergeant was right. We're going to have a battle to-day and a big
one. The popping of your corn, Dick, has become an unbroken sound."

Dick, from the crest of the hillock on which they lay, gazed over the
heads of the men in blue. The skirmishers were showing a hideous
activity. A continuous line of light ran along the front of both armies,
and behind the flash of the Southern firing he saw heavy masses of
infantry emerging from the woods. A deep thrill ran through him.
Jackson, the famous, the redoubtable, the unbeatable, was at hand with
his army. Would he remain unbeaten? Dick said to himself, in unspoken
words, over and over again, "No! No! No! No!" He and his comrades had
been victors in the west. They must not fail here.

Colonel Winchester now called to them, and mounting their horses they
gathered around him to await his orders. These officers, though mere
boys, learned fast. Dick knew enough already of war to see that they
were in a strong position. Before them flowed the creek. On their flank
and partly in their front was a great field of Indian corn. A quarter
of a mile away was a lofty ridge on which were posted Union guns with
gunners who knew so well how to use them. To right and left ran the long
files of infantry, their faces white but resolute.

"I think," said Dick to Warner, "that if Jackson passes over this place
he will at least know that we've been here."

"Yes, he'll know it, and besides he'll make quite a halt before passing.
At least, that's my way of thinking."