CHAPTER X. - A WILD RIDE.

It was a startling sight that greeted the gaze of the Union engineer, and he must have been a man with more than common nerve else he would have failed then.

His pallid face grew a trifle more ghastly in the glare of the fire, and his thin lips were more tightly compressed, but he seemed as calm as ever.

The high, precipitous banks of the river were plainly seen in the lurid light of the flames and the water below gleamed a blood red.

The fire had reached the entire length of the bridge, its forked tongues leaping high into the air, while the wooden structure with its long spans looked like a fiery skeleton.

It was too late to stop the train and to keep on seemed certain destruction.

The engineer had no intentions of leaving his post.

With his hand upon the lever he allowed the rushing train to sweep around the winding way and down the descending track upon the burning bridge, which hung a network of fire over the glowing tide forty feet below!

He heard the shouts of men and saw the dark forms of a squad of Confederate soldiers standing on the bank as he dashed past.
Not a shot was fired, however, as they looked upon the fearful spectacle spellbound.

Warson felt the bridge quiver and tremble beneath him as he was carried out over its surging spans, and a cloud of smoke, ashes and cinders filled the cab, for the time blinding him.

The blazing girders overhead shot out their forked tongues of flame and from the timbers below leaped up the sheets of fire enveloping the train in a crimson shroud.

Quick as a flash of lightning almost was the passage made and Warson felt the cool night air upon his heated temples.

He felt the shock of the tottering bridge as the train passed over, and the wheels revolved as before.
For the first time he felt weak and a faintness crept over him. Borne toward another curve he was brought into plain view of the doomed bridge upon which he gazed with a sickening horror.

He had not gone far before a cloud of sparks shot into the night and a portion of the bridge fell into the river!

With a murmured thanksgiving upon his lips he turned his attention to the engine.

Though he had passed the gantlet of his foes he was yet twelve miles from the Union lines wounded and alone upon the train.

Fortunately, however, no further adventure befell him until half an hour later, more dead than alive, he steamed into Sedgeville where Schofield's division was stationed.

Scarcely had the train come to a standstill when he fell senseless, nature unable to withstand more.

Willing hands bore him to camp, and when he slowly opened his eyes at last, eager listeners were waiting for his explanation of the fate that had befallen himself and companions.

His simple story was listened to with wonder, and the next morning he was summoned before the commander.

"Noble fellow!" exclaimed Schofield with great earnestness, " you have won a commission by your bravery and a thirty days furlong."

" Many thanks, general. The first is accepted hoping it is deserved, the last, 1 must decline."

Decline a furlough!" exclaimed the commander with surprise. " You are a queer fellow, and with that disabled arm, too."

Warson smiled grimly. "Perhaps I can do you some other favor."

"You can do me no greater favor, general, than to allow me to shoulder a musket so that I can do my share of the fighting."

" So you are a fighter?" " Where the man wears the gray of the Confederacy. Can I have a place in your ranks?"

"You have a personal hatred of our foes," said Schofleld ignoring the last question.

"General, who would not have a personal hatred against those who had robbed him of those dearest to him and blighted his own life?"

Warson trembled as he spoke so deeply was he moved by the thoughts of the wrongs he had suffered.

"You have held a commission sometime?"

" I was a captain, sir."

"Well, I am going to give you two better. We have been recruiting the 22nd ——, the officers of which have all been killed or disabled. You shall have its command . Under the circumstance, and what you have done, I do not think there will be any dissatisfaction. It looks now as if we may get a few days of rest, which must be very acceptable to you. Colonel Warson, with many thanks for the great service you have done for us, I have the pleasure of wishing you a speedy recovery from your wounds."

The days that followed, though marked with a steady activity by the two armies, witnessed a deadlock in the struggle for a supremacy.

Finding that he could not bring the enemy to a decisive battle without incurring too great odds, Sherman began to slowly move to the left and down the railroad, hoping to execute a flank movement upon his foe.

Johnston, however, was not slow to take up the gantlet, and in a course parallel to that taken by the Union troops he retreated toward the Kennesaw valley.

The result at the end of a week showed the northern forces drawn up at Ackworth still on the line of the railroad, while their enemy had begun to intrench in a position in front of Marietta under the shadows of the encircling mountains.

The positions of the contending forces were thus relatively the same as at Dalton, and Sherman found himself confronted by similar obstacles as at the outset of the campaign.


UNDER TWO FLAGS.

However the astute commander with that tenacity of purpose which characterized his campaign from beginning to end opened hostilities at once.

For over three weeks in skirmish and battle the struggle waxed warm, Johnston the while withdrawing his forces first at Pine and then at Lost Mountain, to concentrate them at the base of the Kennesaw.

Polk in command of his brigade at the former place fell on the 14th of June mortally wounded; his position was assigned to Loring.

McPherson was on Sherman's left and when we know that he was confronted by the spirited Hood, we are sure that his brigade had its share of fighting.

Foremost in his division for daring and successful work was Remington's cavalry, which seemed almost constantly in the saddle.

Those were anxious days to Cavalry Curt in more ways than one, the foremost thought in his mind being the welfare of Mara.

Woodsville was in close proximity to the contending armies—so close that he trembled for her fate.

The Wizard Scout, however, at his first opportunity offered to go to her assistance and if possible have her go to a safer place.

His adventures we must leave until our next chapter.