"Served the rascal right if I put a bullet through him," said the
first voice.

"Yes. That is what ought to happen to all rebels."

Tom heard these words, and his heart sank, and then a feeling of anger
blazed up in his heart. What if Dick was killed, as these soldiers
surmised. It was terrible to contemplate, and acting on the spur of
the moment, Tom leveled his pistol, pointing in the direction from
which the voices sounded, and pulled the trigger.

Crack! went the pistol, and a howl of pain, rage and surprise
commingled went up on the night air.

"Oh--ow!--ouch! I'm shot!" cried one of the voices. "There are other
rebels at hand, comrade! Perhaps we're surrounded!"

This gave Tom an idea, and he at once acted upon it. If he could make
the redcoats think there were a number of patriot soldiers around,
they might be put to flight, and then he could look for Dick, and
learn whether he were injured.

"Come on, boys!" he yelled loudly. "Charge the scoundrelly redcoats!
Kill them! At them, I say!" And then, drawing his other pistol, he
fired another shot.

He had no way of knowing whether this bullet hit either of the
redcoats, but he had evidence that it was effective in one way, for he
heard the British soldiers going tearing down the slope, through the