CHAPTER III. - THE MYSTERIOUS RIDER.

Not a word was spoken by either as their swords clashed in a combat that meant more than ordinary battle to them.

Dexterously parrying his antagonist's onset, Curt cut an ugly gash on the forearm from which the blood spouted in a stream.

Aroused by the stinging blow Logan wheeled his horse, to dash again at the other more careful this time but with greater fury.

The wound smarted keenly and already he felt his arm failing him.

Cavalry Curt had turned and was calmly awaiting his attack.

Then, as the Confederate lunged at his breast, he threw the blade up and catching its haft upon the point of his own sword with a powerful wrench he tore the weapon from Logan's grasp.

" Will you surrender?1' he cried as the blade went whizzing through the air, and he pressed hard down upon the disarmed foe.

"I yield!" answered Logan.

By this time the cavalry had driven back the enemy and the day was theirs.

At that very moment the stars and stripes were flung to the breeze from the crest of the hill telling of McPherson's triumph.

The firing quickly ceased and the quiet that succeeds battle brought its relief.

By this victory the northern troops commanded tbe Confederate bridges across the Oostanaula.

Thomas and Schofield had been less fortunate, but on the whole Sherman had gained a foothold.

The following day Johnston retreated down the river to Cassville near to Kingston, while Sherman moved rapidly after him.

The loss of the Union forces had thus far exceeded that of the Confederates.

Cavalry Curt did riot see Brick Logan (I suppose we ought to give them their titles of rank, but somehow I like their names better) after his capture. In fact he hardly thought of him in the confusion and excitement that followed.

McPherson was foremost to move upon the Confederate's heels and he was led by Remington's cavalry.

So promptly did McPherson act that at Calhoun he had a sharp brush with the foe opened by the cavalry.

This was on the 16th and that night Cavalry Curt with his company was bivouacked on a slight eminence overlooking the road leading from Calhoun to Adairsville.

After three days in the saddle the troops were only too glad to find rest even upon the ground.

An abundance of grass grew in the valley below, which afforded excellent pasturage for their animals.

As soon as they had eaten to their fill they were secured tit a convenient place and the men laid down in their blankets to sleep.

There was one exception to this—Captain Remington finding it impossible to sleep.

After tossing to and fro an hour or more he had decided to take a stroll around the camp to see if it would not have a quieting effect upon his nerves, when he fancied he heard the sounds of the hoof strokes of a horse.

Listening a moment they grew plainer when he became certain of the approach of a horseman.

Without waiting further he rose from his blanket and telling the sentry what to do in case he should give the alarm he started toward the highway eight or ten rods below.

The rider, though continuing to advance came at such a slow pace that Cavalry Curt had several minutes to wait after reaching the road before the other came in sight.

Though the sky was somewhat overcast, the moon nearing its full was several hours high, so that objects were quite plainly seen.

He could see long ere he came within speaking distance that the rider sat unsteadily in his seat.

In fact he threatened to fall from the saddle at every step of the horse.

His head had fallen forward upon his breast, while his hands which hung by his side made no attempt to hold the reins.

Cavalry Curt watched him with wonder.

Nearer and nearer he came without looking up and apparently entirely heedless of his passage.

His face as far as could be seen in the semi-darkness was deathly white.

When he had come within a couple of rods Curt stepping boldly forth from his concealment called out in a clear, distinct tone:

" Halt! who comes there?"

The horse flung up his head as if startled by the sudden challenge.

Its rider never changed his position! The hands hung as listlessly by his side; his head still rested on his breast.

"Stand!" cried Curt, raising his revolver, "another step at the peril of your life!"

This time the horse stopped, throwing up his head again; and as if in answer to the challenge gave a shrill neigh.

Its abrupt movement nearly unseated the mysterious rider, who swayed back and forth as if he would topple from his position.

He took no notice of him disputing his progress. The horse had stopped through fear and not at his will.

Cavalry Curt was puzzled.

"Speak, man! whether friend or foe."

The other did not speak—did not even look up.

Determined to effect his capture Curt started forward to seize the horse's bridle.

As he did so he got a plainer view of the man's face, when his arm dropped by his side and he staggered back as if shot.

The horse, frightened perhaps by his attack leaped smartly forward nearly hurling its rider from its back.

At the second bound, however, he fell forward upon the creature's neck, and with his arms falling down one on either side he rode away.

Cavalry Curt was usually quick to act, but before he could recover from the shock he had received the horse and rider were disappearing from sight in the distance.

He gazed after them in a dazed sort of way exclaiming aloud at last: "Merciful heaven! was that Harry Morland or his apparition?"