It was lucky that he had seen the flags
while both forces were out of rifle shot. He decided for the western
side, sprang from his horse and threw down a few rails. In a half minute
he was back on his horse, leaped him over the fence, and struck across
the field.
It had been lately plowed and the going was uncommonly heavy. It would
be just as heavy however for his pursuers, and his luck in seeing their
signals would put him out of range before they reached the field.
But it was a wide field and his horse's feet sank so deep in the mud that
he dismounted and led him. When he was two-thirds of the way across a
shout told him that the two forces had met, and had discovered the ruse
of the fugitive. It did not take much intelligence to understand what he
had done, because he was yet in plain sight, and a few of the cavalrymen
took pot shots at him, their bullets falling far short. Harry in his
excited condition laughed at these attempts. Almost anything was a
triumph now. He shook his fist at them and regretted that he could not
send back a defiant shot.
The cavalrymen conferred a little. Then a part pursued across the field,
and two detachments rode along its side, one to the north and the other
to the south.
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