The fiendish act of Fox nearly took away Louis’s breath. The burning brands flew in all directions around him, one large bit of brush landing directly at his feet. He watched this anxiously and saw it blaze with renewed vigor, throwing up a cloud of smoke and flame almost into his face. At the same time another volley of musketry sounded out and he heard the ping of two bullets as they landed on the woodwork of the dugout. Certainly he was in a most perilous situation. CHAPTER XXII IN CAMP AT WHITE HOUSE “We’ve stirred up the Johnnies, boys, come on!” It was one of the boys in blue who uttered the cry. He had forded the little stream and now his friends came after him. Rifle shots were sounding out up and down the water-course for a distance of several hundred feet, and the Union soldiers pushed their way through the hollow with care. A minute after another detachment of Northern soldiers appeared. They were from the Goreville Volunteers, and were headed by Nathan Hornsby. In some manner the Goreville boys had become detached from the remainder of their command and were “bunking” with a New Jersey company, also detached. Hornsby had noted the skirmish and had led forth ten men, including Harry Bingham and Callings. He had asked Jerry Rowe to come, but Jerry had declined, saying he was suffering from a lame foot. Jerry’s lame foot was very much in evidence from that time on, whenever a fight was close at hand, although it was noted he could retreat about as fast as any sprinter present. “Here’s a camp,” cried Hornsby, as they came in sight of the place. “If they haven’t set fire to their hut,” he added. “We’ll force them back,” put in Callings. “If--listen!” He stopped short, and every man listened, his hand on the trigger of his weapon. “It’s a cry for help!” put in Harry. “I believe it comes from the dugout!” “Some poor, wounded fellow has been left behind,” said Hornsby. “Let us rescue him. It’s awful to let anybody burn up.” “I’m with you,” answered Harry. “But look out, it may be only a trick of the enemy.” Cautiously but rapidly they advanced. In the meantime the firing down the stream became louder, showing the Confederates were massing at that point. Soon Harry Bingham gained the dugout and kicking aside several of the firebrands, he entered and Hornsby followed. “Louis! Is it possible!” “Harry! Oh, how thankful I am that you have come! Kick those firebrands away. I am almost suffocated,” and the last word fairly choked in Louis’s throat. His eyes were bulging from their sockets and he could not have held out much longer. Harry did as directed, while Hornsby drew out his jack-knife and cut the rope. Between them they took the released one out into the fresh air, where the rain and coolness soon revived him. “So the Confederates captured you,” said Harry, as he continued to support Louis.