"There is no Home Guard here. You have been fighting with a squadron of United States cavalry, and your successor in command has surrendered." "Strivers is a coward!" "We were nearly three to your one; and your lieutenant was no coward, but a brave fellow, and a sensible man." "Who's we?" "I am a loyal soldier, and the one that gave you your wound," replied Deck. "You!" exclaimed the major. "Then what are you doing with me now?" "I am trying to assist you, if I can. I have bound up your wound, and our surgeon will soon be able to attend to your case." "Give me a drink of brandy out of your flask," added the wounded man faintly. "I have no brandy; but here is some fresh water; for I filled my canteen at Plain Hill," answered Deck, as he presented it to his patient. He drank freely; and perhaps it did as much good as the same quantity of brandy would have done. "I feel better now," said the major, as Deck assisted him to his feet. "Where is my horse?" "But you are a prisoner now. If you will give me your sword and pistols, it will save you from any further annoyance," replied Deck. "A prisoner!" he exclaimed bitterly. "Strivers surrendered." "To three times his own force; and he could not do otherwise," added the Union soldier very gently. "He would have murdered his own men if he had fought any longer." "I cannot help myself," continued the major, as he unbuckled his sword and gave it to his conqueror. "I did not do it. Strivers did it; and I am much obliged to you, young man, for striking me down before it was done." Dr. Farnwright dressed his wound; Deck found his horse, then assisted him to mount, and placed him in the rank with the other prisoners. The dead were ranged in a field, with two more found on the wooded knoll. "Well, Dexter, you have been playing the hero again, have you?" said the major, when he rode that way. "Ceph and I have been doing our duty, and Major Vinegold is the sufferer, father. I couldn't help doing what I did," replied Deck. "And he ended the fight!" exclaimed Captain Truman with enthusiasm. "If he had his proper reward he would be made a captain on the spot." "A captain at eighteen!" exclaimed the major, who was somewhat conservative in his ideas. "There is no authority here to make him a captain, even if it were desirable, as I think it is not. Don't spoil the boy, Captain Truman." While they were waiting for the arrangements for the march to be completed, Deck told his father about his interview with the fallen leader of the guerillas; and it ended in introducing the major to him. "I am sorry you are wounded, my friend," said the commander. "Why do you call me your friend?" asked the prisoner, apparently astonished. "You are not just our idea of the Yankees." "On the battle-field we are enemies, and we do our best to kill each other; but here we are friends, and we do what we can to save each other. I am glad my son assisted you."