"Take him along?" asked Si of Shorty in a low tone, with a nod toward Nate, as they were making up the squad. "Don't know," answered Shorty. "If ever in the world, we want men with us to-day who don't git rattled, and make a holy show o' theirselves before the regiment, but'll keep cool, watch their chances, and obey orders. Guess we'd better leave him behind." "Seems to me," said Si, trying vaguely to recall his Scriptual readings, "that the Bible says some thing agin takin' a newly-married man right into battle just after he's married." He looked around again, saw Nate taking his place along with the other men selected, and called out: "Here, Nate, fall back to the company. You can't go along." "Please, Mister Si, le' me go along," begged Nate, in the soft tones of a girl asking for a flower. "I'll be good. I'll hold my gun straight, an' try t' keep step." "No, you can't go., This 's partickler business, and we want only experienced men with us. Better fall back to the company." "Go ahead, there, Corporal," commanded the Adjutant. "Time's passing. We must move." Si deployed his men and entered the dense woods which curtained the view and shrouded the enemy. It was one of those deeply anxious moments in war, when the enemy is in ambush, and the next instant, the next step may develop him in deadly activity. Si was on the right of his line and Shorty on the left, and they were pushing forward slowly, cautiously, and with every sense strained to the extremity of alertness. So dense was the foliage overhead that it was almost a twilight in the forest depths they were penetrating, and Si's eyes were strained to keep track of the men moving on his left, and at the same time watch the developments in front. He had noticed that he was approaching a little opening some distance ahead, and that beyond it was a dense thicket of tall laurels. Then he thought he heard a low whistle from Shorty, and looked far to the left, while continuing to walk forward. Suddenly he was startled by a shot a little to his rear and left. Then a shot answered from the laurel thicket, he saw the bushes over there stir violently, and he heard Nate's voice say: "He wuz layin' for yo', Si, an' come nigh a-gittin' yo', but I think I must've at least creased him, from the wild way he shot back. Le's go forrard an' see." "I thought I told you to stay back," said Si, more intent on military discipline than his escape. "I know yo' did done hit, but I couldn't mind, an' tagged 'long arter yo'." "How'd you know he wuz there?" "I done seed the bushes move over his head. I knowed jest how he wuz a-layin' for yo'. Le's go forrard an' git him." Si and Nate ran across the open space to the laurels, and found a little ways in a bushwhacker staggering from pain and loss of blood from a wound in his hip, and making labored efforts to escape. "I done hit him; I done fetched him; I done knowed jist whar he wuz," exclaimed Nate with boyish exultation.