It was towards the close of the fourth day out that word reached the company, through several Union sympathizers, that trouble had occurred at Baltimore between the citizens and some Massachusetts troops that were passing through the city from one railroad station to another. A mob had collected, sticks and stones had been used, and a sharp skirmish had ensued, ending in the death of a number on both sides. This trouble at Baltimore was kept up until some time later, when General Butler took possession of the city and placed it under military rule. By this it will be seen how near Maryland was at one time to joining her Southern sisters in the great rebellion. The news from Baltimore made Captain Paulding more vigilant than ever, and four advance guards or skirmishers were sent out whenever the volunteers moved. At a little place called Bowker’s the company was attacked by two men and half a dozen big boys, who threw stones and clods of dirt, but these Southern sympathizers fled at the first order from Captain Paulding to halt and take aim. When the order came to point his gun, Louis’s heart leaped into his throat. Was he really to fire upon a fellow human being? he asked himself. It is not to be wondered at that his aim was high. Very few men in their first encounter on the battlefield shoot to kill. One must be nerved up by the course of events to do this deliberately. Bowker’s passed, the little band struck out through a fertile country for Rockville. Up to this time nothing had been heard of the cavalrymen Louis and Harry Bingham had met. But now, about four o’clock in the afternoon, Jerry Rowe, one of the advance guards sent out, came running back, his face as white as a sheet. “The Southern cavalry!” he gasped. “They are on the road, a hundred or more strong, and are coming this way! Run for your lives!” “Rowe!” ejaculated Captain Paulding so fiercely that Jerry nearly sank in new terror. “But, captain, they are a hundred strong, and all armed--and--” “Enough. They are riding this way?” “Yes, sir.” “Very well; that is sufficient. Take your place in the ranks. Company, halt!” “But, captain--” “Silence, or I’ll place you under arrest. You are positively the worst coward I ever met.” Without a word more Jerry sneaked to his place, glad that it was in the second and not the first division of the command. He trembled from head to foot. Another of the guards now came back. It was Moses Blackwell, the blacksmith. He had remained long enough to ascertain that the cavalry numbered less than sixty men, but all well armed and mounted. That they were Confederates he was certain, for, although they wore the United States uniform, every U. S. had been stripped from their clothing, as well as from their horses’ trappings. “I left Dunham and Wells behind,” said Blackwell. “They are going to watch and see if any more of the enemy are on the way.” “How far off are the cavalry?” “No more’n half a mile, sir.”