While Tom and his little command were working their way back to the union lines, followed up by the disorganized band of rebels, a series of most unearthly yells swept over the field, for they had emerged from the woods. It was the rallying cry of the Confederate regiment which had formed in their rear. They were charging upon the Massachusetts —th; but they might as well have charged upon the Rock of Gibraltar, for presently Tom was delighted to see them retiring before the tremendous onslaught of his friends.  
“Hurrah!” shouted he, forgetting the foe in his rear, and pressing forward to that on his front, at the same time changing his course so as to approach the right wing of the rebel regiment.
 
“Don’t be rash, Tom,” said the old soldier, who never permitted the sergeant to leave his side.
 
“Follow me, boys!” roared Tom, breathless with excitement, as he started off on the double quick towards the breaking lines of the enemy.
 
“Here we are!” replied the gallant fellows behind him, pushing forward with a zeal equal to that of their leader, from whom they derived their inspiration. “Go in, sergeant, and we’ll stand by you.”
 
But the bold soldier boy had discretion as well as gallantry; and he saw that if he threw his little force upon the rebel line, the whole party would be instantly annihilated. A covert of bushes fortunately lay on the right flank of the retreating regiment, and Tom ordered his men to conceal themselves behind it, until a favorable moment should arrive to take their places in the lines.
 
The men were glad enough to obtain a breathing spell; but, at such a tremendous moment as that, idleness would have been treason, for such a glorious opportunity to strike a heavy blow had not before occurred.
 
“Load up, and fire at will,” said Tom, as he charged his musket. “Don’t throw your lead away either.”
 
“We are a dead shot here if we are any where,” added Hapgood, as he and the rest of the party hastily loaded their muskets.
 
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.
 
“Sergeant Somers and others,” replied Captain Benson.
 
“Somers again!” exclaimed the colonel.
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