Pop went Tom’s piece first, and over went the rebel at the extreme right of the rebel regiment.  There was no such thing as missing the mark, for they were on the flank of the Confederate line, which the united efforts of the officers could hardly preserve.  The men in the covert fired when they were ready; and as they carefully observed the injunction of Tom not to waste their lead, every shot told upon the rebels.

The Confederate officers glanced nervously at the clump of bushes, which glowed with flashes of fire as the sergeant’s little command poured in their volleys; but they were too closely pressed by the Federals in front to attempt to dislodge them.  The rebel privates were not long in ascertaining what was so clear to their officers—­that they were flanked, and were being shot down like sheep, from a quarter where they could not defend themselves.  They had been slowly and doggedly retiring before the advancing Federals, disputing every inch of ground; but when they realized that the bolts of death were dropping among them from another direction, they could no longer endure that awful suspense which takes possession of the minds of men when they are suspended, as it were, between life and death.

Tom saw them waver, and he knew what it meant.  The rebel line was just abreast of him, and he had seen at least a score of men fall before the deadly fire of his party.

“Give it to them, boys!  They shake!” shouted Tom, as he delivered his fire again.  “Pour in as fast as you can, but don’t waste your powder.”

The men redoubled their exertions, and the rapidity of their fire was sensibly increased.  The effect was soon perceptible in the rebel ranks; for the right of the line, probably supposing a company, if not a whole regiment, of sharp-shooters was concealed in the covert, suddenly broke and fled with the utmost precipitation, in spite of the gallant efforts of their officers to rally them.

The Federal regiment instantly took advantage of this partial panic, and charged furiously upon the rebel line.  A desperate hand-to-hand encounter ensued, during which Tom and his companions emerged from their concealment, and ran along the rear of the victorious line.  They soon satisfied themselves of what they had before believed—­that the regiment was their own; and they lost no time in finding the company to which they belonged.  They joined in the pursuit, which soon ended in the utter rout of the rebel force.

The position of the enemy’s lines did not permit them to follow the advantage to any great extent, and the order was soon given to fall back.  At this juncture the regiment, which had been constantly engaged for several hours, was relieved; and not too early in the day, for the men were completely exhausted by the furious onslaughts they had made.

“Who were those men in the bushes on the flank of the rebel regiment?” demanded the colonel, as he reined up his jaded horse in front of Company K.