"Silence in the ranks," hissed Corporal Cotter sharply. "Not a word!" Fifteen minutes later Captain Cortland and the sergeant returned. "Take twelve of the men, now, Sergeant. You know where to post them," directed Captain Cortland briskly. "As soon as you have done so return to me." Hupner marched off in the darkness with his dozen men. In a few minutes he was back. "We'll want until daylight now for the rest of our work," announced the company commander. Slowly enough the time passed. No word was spoken. All was as still around the little military force as though they had been isolated in the center of a vast desert. Then the first faint signs of dawn came. Some of the soldiers were seated on the ground, gaping and with difficulty refraining from going to sleep, for these men of Uncle Sam's Army had been routed from their beds in the middle of the night. The morning light increased, though it was still dim, and the first vague shapes near the ledge began to take more definite shape. "We won't need to wait more than five minutes more, Sergeant Hupner," declared the captain. Cortland stood holding his watch close to his face. As soon as he could read the time he turned to whisper: "Now, Overton, lead us up to the exact spot from which you had your interview with the fellow Branders." "Shall the men load, sir?" whispered Sergeant Hupner. "Yes; full magazines." As silently as possible the men of the little searching party slipped back the bolts of their pieces and loaded. "Go ahead, Overton," whispered Captain Cortland. Just behind Soldier Hal stepped the company commander himself, watching every footstep in order not to step on any loose stone that might sound a premature alarm. Yet one man among them slipped and made a noise. It was trifling, but almost instantly a whistle sounded ahead. Without even thinking to wait for orders Hal returned the whistle. "That you, Tip?" called the voice of an invisible man. "Good for you, lad. We thought you was a goner." Hal did not answer further, for Captain Cortland broke in: "Rush 'em, men! We've got 'em." "Ho! The blazes you have!" sounded a rough voice ahead. "Come on, boys--it's the sojers! Give it to 'em!" Almost in an instant the crevices between the rocks ahead were full of red flashes. Bullets sped, struck rocks with spiteful thuds and flattened out before bounding into the air again. "Lie down, men!" shouted Captain Cortland. "Give it to the rascals as long as they shoot at us." All in a moment this rock-strewn spot had become a bedlam of discharging firearms. Two regulars were hit before they could find cover from which to fire. These men, however, made no outcry, but, finding themselves unable to handle their rifles, lay quietly where they had fallen until the time came for them to have attention.