General Thomas sat in his headquarters at Lebanon looking over some dispatches which Fred had just brought from General Schoepf at Somerset. His face wore a look of anxiety as he read, for the dispatches told him that General Zollicoffer had crossed to the north side of the Cumberland river and was fortifying his camp at Beech Grove.

"I may be attacked at any moment," wrote General Schoepf, "and you know how small my force is. For the love of heaven, send me reinforcements."

The general sat with his head bowed in his hands thinking of what could be done, when an orderly entered with dispatches from Louisville. Thomas opened them languidly, for he expected nothing but the old story of keeping still and doing nothing. Suddenly his face lighted up; his whole countenance beamed with satisfaction, and turning to Fred he said:

"My boy, here is news for us, indeed. General Buell has at last consented to advance. He has given orders for me to concentrate my army and attack Zollicoffer at the earliest possible moment."

Fred could not suppress a hurrah.

"General," he exclaimed, "I already see Zollicoffer defeated, and hurled back across the Cumberland."

General Thomas smiled. "Don't be too sanguine, Fred," he said; "none of us know what the fortune of war may be; we can only hope for the best. But this means more work for you, my boy. You will at once have to return with dispatches to General Schoepf. Everything depends on his holding his position. Somerset must be held at all hazards."

"I am ready to start this minute with such tidings," gayly responded Fred. "Prince, poor fellow, will have it the hardest, for the roads are awful."

"That is what I am afraid of," replied the general. "I hope to be with Schoepf within a week, but, owing to the condition of the roads, it may take me much longer."

Within an hour Fred was on his way back to Somerset. It was a terrible journey over almost impassable roads; streams, icy cold, had to be forded; but boy and horse were equal to the occasion, and in three days reached Somerset.

How was it with General Thomas? His week lengthened into three. He commenced his march from Lebanon on December 31st; it was January 18th before he reached his destination. The roads seemed bottomless. The rain poured in torrents, and small streams were turned into raging rivers. Bridges were swept away, and had to be rebuilt. The soldiers, benumbed with chilling rain, toiled on over the sodden roads, cheerful in the thought that they were soon to meet the enemies of their country.

General Schoepf received the news of General Thomas' advance with great satisfaction.

"If I can only hold on," he said, "until Thomas comes, everything will be all right."

"We must show a bold front, General," replied Fred, "and make the enemy believe we have a large force."

"It's the enemy that is showing a bold front nowadays," replied General Schoepf, with a faint smile. "They have been particularly saucy lately. They have in the last few days, cut off two or three small scouting parties. But what worries me the most is that there is hardly a night but that every man on some one of our picket posts is missing. There is no firing, not the least alarm of any kind, but the men in the morning are gone. It is a mystery we have tried to solve in vain. At first we thought the men had deserted, but we have given that idea up. The men are getting superstitious over the disappearance of so many of their comrades, and are actually becoming demoralized."

"General, will you turn this picket business over to me?" asked Fred, quietly.

"Gladly," replied the general. "I have heard much of your ability in ferreting out secret matters. Your success as a scout I am well acquainted with, as you know. I hope you will serve me as well in this matter of the pickets, for I am at my wits' end."

"Well, General, to-morrow I will be at your service, and I trust you will lose no more pickets before that time," and so saying Fred took his leave, for he needed rest badly.

The next morning, when Fred went to pay his respects to the general, he found him with a very long face. "Another post of four men disappeared last night," he said.

Fred gave a low whistle. "Well, General, if possible, I will try and solve the problem, but it may be too hard for me."

"Have you any idea yet how they are captured?" asked the general.

"None at all. I must first look over the ground carefully, see how the men are posted, talk with them, and then I may be able to form an idea."

Fred's first business was to ride out to where the post had been captured during the night. This he did, noting the lay of the ground, carefully looking for footprints not only in front, but in the rear of where the men had been stationed. He then visited all the picket posts, talked with the men, learned their habits on picket, whether they were as watchful as they should be—in fact, not the slightest thing of importance escaped his notice.

On his return from his tour of inspection, Fred said to General Schoepf, "Well, General, I have my idea."

"What is it?" asked the general, greatly interested.

"Your pickets have been captured from the rear, not the front."

"What do you mean?" excitedly asked the general.

"I mean that some of the pickets are so placed that a wary foe could creep in between the posts and come up in the rear, completely surprising the men. I think I found evidence that the men captured last night were taken in that way. I found, at least, six posts of which I believe an enemy could get in the rear without detection, especially if the land had been spied out."

"You astonish me," said the general. "But even if this is so, why does not the sentinel give the alarm?"

"He may be in such a position that he dare not," answered Fred.

"What do you propose?"

"That a double force be put on the posts, half to watch the rear. It will be my business to-night to see to that."

"Very well," replied General Schoepf. "I shall be very curious to see how the plan works, and whether your idea is the correct one or not."

"I will not warrant it, General," replied Fred, "but there will be no harm in trying."

Just before night Fred made a second round of the picket posts, and made careful inquiry whether any one of the posts had been visited during the day by any one from the outside.

All of the posts answered in the negative save one. The corporal of that post said: "Why, a country boy was here to sell us some vegetables and eggs."

"Ah!" replied Fred. "Was he a bright boy, and did he seem to notice things closely?"

"On the contrary," said the corporal, "he appeared to be remarkably dull and ignorant."

"Has the same boy been in the habit of selling vegetables to the pickets?" asked Fred.

Come to think about it, the corporal believed he had heard such a boy spoken of.

Then one of the men spoke up and said:

"You know Rankin was on the post that was taken in last night. He had a letter come yesterday, and I took it out to him, and he told me of what a fine supper they were going to have, saying they had bought some eggs and a chicken of a boy."

"Jerusalem!" suddenly exclaimed the corporal, "that boy to-day walked to the rear some little distance—made an excuse for going; he might not have been such a fool as he looked."

"Thank you," replied Fred. "Corporal, I will be here a little after dark with a squad of men to help you keep watch. In the mean time keep a sharp lookout."

"That I will," answered the corporal. "Do you think that boy was a spy?" he then asked, with much concern.

"I don't know," answered Fred. "But such a thing is possible. But if any trouble occurs on the picket line to-night, it will be at this post."

That night Fred doubled the pickets on six posts which he considered the most exposed. But the extra men were to guard the rear instead of the front. The most explicit instructions were given, and they were cautioned that they were to let no alarm at the front make them relax their vigilance in the rear. Thirty yards in the rear of the post where he was to watch Fred had noticed a small ravine which led down into a wood. It was through this ravine that he concluded the enemy would creep if they should try to gain the rear of the post. Fred posted his men so as to watch this ravine. To the corporal who had charge of the post, he said:

"My theory is, that some one comes up to your sentinel, and attracts his attention by pretending to be a friend, or perhaps a deserter. This, of course, will necessitate the sentinel's calling for you, and naturally attract the attention of every man awake. While this is going on, a party that has gained the rear unobserved will rush on you and be in your midst before you know it, and you will be taken without a single gun being fired."

The corporal and his men looked astonished.

"Zounds!" said one, "I believe it could be done."

"Now," continued Fred, "if you are hailed from the front to-night act just as if you had not heard of this. I will take care of the rear."

When everything was prepared the soldiers, wrapped in their blankets, sat down to wait for what might come. So intently did they listen that the falling of a leaf would startle them. The hours passed slowly away. There was a half-moon, but dark clouds swept across the sky, and only now and then she looked forth, hiding her face again in a moment. Once in a while a dash of cold rain would cause the sentinels to shiver and sink their chins deeper into the collars of their great coats.

Midnight came, and still all was quiet. The soldiers not on guard lay wrapped in their blankets, some of them in the land of dreams.

Off in the woods the hoot of an owl was heard. Instantly Fred was all attention. A few minutes passed, and again the dismal "Whoo! whoo!" this time much nearer. Fred aroused his men. Instantly they were all attention, and every sense alert.

"Have you heard anything?" whispered the sergeant, next to him.

"Nothing but the suspicious hooting of an owl," whispered back Fred. Then to the soldiers, "Perfectly still, men; not a sound."

So still were they that the beatings of their hearts could be heard. Again the dismal hoot was heard, this time so near that it startled them.

Then from the sentinel out in front came the short, sharp challenge, "Who comes there?"

He was answered immediately. "A deserter who wishes to come into the lines and give himself up."

"Stand! Corporal of the guard!"

The corporal went forward to receive the deserter. Now there came the sound of swiftly advancing footsteps in front of the rear post, and dim figures were seen through the darkness.

"Fire!" shouted Fred.

Seven rifles belched forth their contents, and for a moment the flashes of the guns lighted up the scene, and then all was dark.

There were cries of pain, hoarse yells of surprise and anger, and then a scattering volley returned.

"Use your revolvers," shouted Fred, and a rapid fire was opened.

"Fall back!" shouted a voice from the darkness. There were a few more scattering shots, and all was still.

The deserter, who was so anxious to give himself up, the moment the alarm was given fired at the sentinel and vanished in the darkness.

The sound of the firing created the wildest commotion in camp. The long roll was beaten; the half-dressed, frightened soldiers came rolling out of their tents, some without their guns, others without their cartridge boxes; excited officers in their night clothes ran through the camp, waving their bare swords and shouting: "Fall in, men, for God's sake, fall in."

It was some minutes before the excitement abated, and every one was asking, "What is it? what is it?"

The officer of the day, with a strong escort, came riding out to where the firing was heard. Being challenged, he gave the countersign, and then hurriedly asked what occasioned the firing.

"Oh," cheerfully responded Fred, "they tried to take us in, and got taken in themselves."

An examination of the ground in front of where Fred's squad was stationed revealed two Confederates still in death, and trails of blood showed that others had been wounded.

"You can go to your quarters," said Fred to his men. "You will not be needed again to-night; and, Lieutenant," said he, turning to the officer of the day, "each and every one of these men deserves thanks for his steadiness and bravery."

"I hardly think, General," said Fred, the next morning, as he made his report, "that your pickets will be disturbed any more."

As for General Schoepf, he was delighted, and could not thank Fred enough.

For three or four days things were comparatively quiet. Then a small scouting party was attacked and two men captured. The next day a larger party was attacked and driven in, with a loss of one killed and three wounded. The stories were the same; the leader of the Confederates was a young lieutenant, who showed the utmost bravery and handled his men with consummate skill.

"I wish," said General Schoepf to Fred, "that you would teach this young lieutenant the same kind of a lesson that you taught those fellows who were capturing our pickets."

"I can try, General, but I am afraid the job will not only be harder, but much more dangerous than that one," answered Fred.

"This same young lieutenant," continued the general, "may have had a hand in that picket business, and since he received his lesson there has turned his attention to scouting parties."

"In that case," replied Fred, "it will take the second lesson to teach him good manners. Well, General, I will give it to him, if I can."

The next morning, with eight picked men from Wolford's cavalry, Fred started out in search of adventure.

"Don't be alarmed, General," said Fred, as he rode away, "if we do not come back to-night. We may take a notion to camp out."

Many of their comrades, with longing eyes, looked after them, and wished they were of the number; yet they did not know but that every one was riding to death or captivity. Yet such is the love of adventure in the human breast that the most dangerous undertakings will be gladly risked.

After riding west about three miles Fred turned south and went about the same distance. He then halted, and after a careful survey of the country ahead, said: "I think, boys, it will be as well for us to leave the road and take to the woods; we must be getting dangerously near the enemy's country."

The party turned from the road and entered a wood. Working their way through this, skirting around fields, and dashing across open places, after making a careful observation of the front, they managed to proceed about two miles further, when they came near the crossing of two main roads. Here they stopped and fed their horses, while the men ate their scanty fare of hard bread and bacon.

They had not been there long before a squadron of at least 200 Confederate cavalry came from the south, and turning west were soon out of sight.

"I hardly think, boys," said Fred, "it would have paid us to try to take those fellows into camp; we will let them go this time," and there was a twinkle in his eye, although he kept his face straight.

"Just as you say, capt'in," replied one of the troopers, as he took a chew of tobacco. "We would have gobbled them in if you had said the word."

A little while after this a troop of ten horsemen came up the same road, but instead of turning west they kept on north. At the head of the troop rode a youthful officer.

One of the soldiers with Fred was one of the number that had been attacked and defeated two days before by the squad of which they were in search.

"That's he, that's the fellow!" exclaimed the soldier, excitedly.

Fred's breath came thick and fast. What he had come for, fate had thrown in his way.

"They are only one more than we!" he exclaimed.

"If they were double, we would fight them," cried the men all together.

"Let them pass out of sight before we pursue," said Fred. "The farther we get them from their lines the better."

"Now," said Fred, after they had waited about five minutes. A ride of a few minutes more brought them into the road. Halting a moment, Fred turned to his men and said:

"Men, I know every one of you will do your duty. All I have to say is obey orders, keep cool, and make every shot count. Forward!"

With a cheer they followed their gallant young leader. After riding about two miles, Fred reined up and said: "They have not dodged us, have they, boys? We ought to have sighted them before this. Here is where we turned off of the road. By heavens! I believe they noticed that a squad of horsemen had turned off into the woods, and are following the tracks. Let's see," and Fred jumped from his horse, and examined the tracks leading into the woods.

"That's what they did, boys," said he, looking up. "I will give that lieutenant credit for having sharp eyes. Now, boys, we will give him a surprise by following."

They did not go more than half a mile before they caught sight of the Confederates. Evidently they had concluded not to follow the tracks any farther, for they had turned and were coming back, and the two parties must have sighted each other at nearly the same moment.

There was the sharp crack of a carbine, and a ball whistled over the Federals' heads.

"Steady, men," said Fred. "They are coming."

But he was mistaken. The young lieutenant who led the Confederates was far too careful a leader to charge an unknown number of men. Instead of charging the Confederates dismounted, and leaving their horses in charge of two of their number the rest deployed and advanced, dodging from tree to tree, and the bullets began to whistle uncomfortably close, one horse being hit.

"Dismount, and take the horses back," was Fred's order. "We must meet them with their own game." The two men who were detailed to take the horses back went away grumbling because they were not allowed to stay in the fight.

Telling them to keep well covered, Fred advanced his men slightly, and soon the carbines were cracking at a lively rate.

But the fight was more noisy than dangerous, every man being careful to keep a tree between himself and his foe.

"This can be kept up all day," muttered Fred, "and only trees and ammunition will suffer. I must try something else."

Orders were given to fall back to the horses, and the men obeyed sullenly. A word from Fred, and their faces brightened. Mounting their horses, they rode back as if in disorderly retreat.

As soon as the Confederates discovered the movement, they rushed back for their horses, mounted, and with wild hurrahs started in swift pursuit of what they thought was a demoralized and retreating foe.

Coming to favorable ground, Fred ordered his men to wheel and charge. So sudden was the movement that the Confederates faltered, then halted.

"Forward!" cried their young leader, spurring his horse on, but at that moment a chance shot cut one of his bridle reins. The horse became unmanageable, and running under the overhanging branches of a tree, the gallant lieutenant was hurled to the ground. His men, dismayed by his fall, and unable to withstand the impetuous onslaught of the Federals, beat a precipitate retreat, leaving their commander and two of their number prisoners in the hands of their foes. Two more of their men were grievously wounded. Three of the Federals had been wounded in the mÊlÉe.

Fred dismounted and bent over the young lieutenant, and then started back uttering an exclamation of surprise and grief. He had looked into the face of his cousin, Calhoun Pennington. Hurriedly Fred placed his hand on the fallen boy's heart. It was beating. There was no sign of a wound on his body.

"Thank God! He has only been stunned by the fall," exclaimed Fred.

In the mean time the five remaining Confederates had halted about a quarter of a mile away, and were listening to what a sergeant, now in command, was saying.

"Boys," he exclaimed, "it will be to our everlasting shame and disgrace if we run away and leave the lieutenant in the hands of those cursed Yankees. Some of them must be disabled, as well as some of us. Let us charge and retake the lieutenant, or die to a man in the attempt."

"Here is our hand on that, Sergeant," said each one of the four, and one after the other placed his hand in that of the grim old sergeant.

But just as they were about to start on their desperate attempt, they were surprised to see Fred riding towards them, waving a white handkerchief. When he came in hailing distance, he cried:

"Men, your gallant young leader lies over here grievously hurt. We are going to withdraw," and wheeling his horse, he rode swiftly back.

Fred hastily made preparations to withdraw. One of his men was so badly wounded that he had to be supported on his horse; therefore their progress was slow, and it was night before they reached camp. Fred made his report to General Schoepf and turned over his two prisoners. The general was well pleased, and extended to Fred and the soldiers with him his warmest congratulations.

"If you had only brought in that daring young lieutenant with you your victory would have been complete," said the general.

"I hardly think, General," said Fred, "that you will be troubled with him any more. He was still insensible when we left, and with my three wounded men and the two prisoners it was well-nigh an impossibility for us to bring him in."

"I know," replied the General, "and as you say, I think we have had the last of him."

"I sincerely hope so," was Fred's answer as he turned away, and it meant more than the general thought. Fred had a horror of meeting his cousin in conflict, and devoutly prayed he might never do so again. He slept little that night. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the pale face of his cousin lying there in the wood, and the thought that he might be dangerously hurt, perhaps dead, filled him with terror. "Why," he asked himself over and over again, "did the fortune of war bring us together?"

Let us return to the scene of the conflict, and see how Calhoun is getting along. The Confederates received Fred's message with surprise.

"That lets us out of a mighty tough scrape," remarked the sergeant. "We must have hurt them worse than we thought."

"Don't know about that," answered one of his men who was watching the Federals as they retired. "There is only one of them who appears to be badly hurt; and they have poor Moon and Hunt in limbo, sure."

"Better be prisoners than dead," answered the sergeant. "But, boys, let us to the lieutenant. It's strange the Yanks didn't try to take him back."

When they reached Calhoun, he was already showing signs of returning consciousness, and in a few minutes he was able to sit up and converse.

"Where are the Yankees?" was his first question.

"Gone."

"Then we whipped them after all," and his face lighted up with joy.

"Can't say that we did, Lieutenant," answered the sergeant; "but they left mighty sudden for some reason."

Calhoun looked around on his men with a troubled countenance. "I see only five of you," he said; "where are the rest?"

"Two are back nursing wounds," answered the sergeant. "Sheldon is hit, so hard hit I am afraid he is done for. As for Moon and Hunt, they have gone off with the Yanks."

"Prisoners?"

The sergeant nodded.

The tears rolled down the cheeks of the young officer. "Boys," he said, chokingly, "I believe I have lost my grip. There was that last picket affair that went against us, and now we are all broken up in a fair combat."

"Don't take on, Lieutenant," said the sergeant, soothingly. "It was that chance bullet that cut your bridle rein that did the business. If it hadn't been for that we would have wiped them out, sure. As it is, we are thankful they didn't take a notion to lug you off."

"Perhaps they thought I was dead."

"No, they didn't," replied the sergeant, and then he told Calhoun what had happened.

"What kind of a looking man was the leader of the Yanks?" asked Calhoun.

"He was a boy, no older than yourself. He was mounted on a magnificent bay horse with a star in the forehead.

"I see it all," sighed Calhoun. "The leader of that party was my cousin, Fred Shackelford. He knew me, and he spared me. Boys, help me on my horse. I am badly shaken up, but not seriously hurt. We will square accounts with those fellows one of these days."

And the little party, bearing their wounded, sadly wended their way back to the Confederate camp.

For the next few days the weather was so bad and the roads in such a terrible condition that both armies were comparatively quiet. Nothing as yet had been heard from the advance of General Thomas, and General Schoepf began to be very uneasy. At last Fred offered to ride toward Columbia, and see if he could not get some tidings of the missing column. The offer was gladly accepted, and Fred set out. He met with no adventure until about fifteen miles from Somerset, when he suddenly came face to face with a young soldier, and he supposed a Federal, as he wore a blue great coat. But a second look caused a cry of surprise to burst from Fred's lips, and at the same time the supposed Federal soldier snatched a revolver from the holster. The cousins were once more face to face.

"Put up your revolver, Calhoun," cried Fred. "Is that the way you greet your cousin?"

For a moment Calhoun gazed on Fred in silence, then raising his hand in courtly salute, he suddenly turned his horse, and jumping him over a low fence, disappeared in a copse of wood.

Fred was on the point of raising his voice to call him back, when it flashed upon him that Calhoun had been playing the spy, and that he dare not stop, even for a moment.

"He was only stunned after all, when he was hurled from his horse," thought Fred. "I am so glad; a heavy load has been lifted from my mind. I am also glad he has gone now. It would have been extremely awkward for me to have found out he was a spy, and then let him go."

It was with a lighter heart that he pursued his journey, but he had gone but a short distance when he met a courier from General Thomas with dispatches for General Schoepf. He was informed that the advance of General Thomas was but a short distance in the rear. A few moments more and Fred was in the presence of his general.

"Ah, Shackelford!" said Thomas, "I am glad to see you. How is everything at Somerset?"

"All right, General, only General Schoepf has been sorely worried over your non-appearance."

"I do not wonder. The march has been an awful one, and has taken three times as long as I expected. But we will be at Logan's Cross Roads to-night, where I shall halt to concentrate my army. If the enemy does not retreat, we may look for a lively time in about three days."

"The lively time, General, may come before three days," answered Fred, significantly.

"How is that?" asked Thomas, looking surprised.

"The Rebels may conclude," answered Fred, "to attack you before you can bring up the rest of your force, or get aid from Somerset. Fishing Creek is very high; I had to swim it. It will be almost impossible to get infantry or artillery over."

"I have thought of that," replied the general, smiling. "I shall try and be ready for them if they come."