"See that, Tom!" said Hapgood, suddenly. "What?" "There's one of them rushing towards us all alone." "He has thrown up his gun. The others are yelling to him to come back. What does that mean?" "He is a deserter; he wants to get away from them. There he comes." "Yes, and there comes the rest of them--the whole rebel army--more than a million of them," said Fred Pemberton. "It's time for us to be going." "See! They are firing at him. Forward!" added Tom, leading the way. The party rushed forward, for a short distance; but the dozen rebels had been reënforced, and it was madness to rush into the very teeth of danger. Tom ordered his men to halt and fire at will. The deserter, probably finding that he was between two fires, turned aside from the direct course he was pursuing, and sought shelter in the woods. The sergeant then directed his men to retire, for whether the retreat of the runaway rebel was covered or not, it was no longer safe to remain. Fortunately the Confederates were more in doubt than the Unionists; and perhaps expecting to fall upon a larger body of the latter, they abandoned the pursuit, and returned to their posts. Nothing was seen of the deserter for some time, and Tom concluded that he had lost his way in the woods, or had missed the direction taken by the Federal scouts. "He was a plucky fellow, any how," said one of the men, "to attempt to run away in the very face of his companions." "Well, he timed it well, for he started just when their guns were all empty," added another. "I'm not sorry he missed us," continued Hapgood. "I don't like a desarter, no how. It goes right agin my grain." "But he was running from the wrong to the right side," replied Tom. "I don't keer if he was. Them colors on t'other side were his'n. He chose 'em for himself, and it's mean to run away from 'em. If a man's go'n to be a rebel, let him be one, and stick to it." "You don't know any thing about it, uncle. Thousands of men have been forced into the rebel army, and I don't blame them for getting out of it the best way they can. I should do so." "That may be. Tom; that may be," added the veteran, taking off his cap and rubbing his bald head, as though a new idea had penetrated it. "I didn't think of that." "He's a brave man, whoever he is, and whatever he is." "He must want to get away from 'em pretty bad, or he wouldn't have run that risk. I shouldn't wonder if they hit him." "Perhaps he is wounded, and gone into the woods there to die," suggested Tom. "Halloo!" shouted some one in the rear of them. "There's your man," said Hapgood. "Halloo!" cried the same voice. "Halloo, yourself!" shouted Hapgood in reply to the hail.