Daylight had come and withered the guns of the enemy were sending their screaming shells

over our heads.

When we reached the toll gate, our column halted and the men were directed to find shelter

behind a stone house that stood just to the right of the road as we approached the town.

In our mess of tin were Bob Lee, the general's son, and Bob McKim, a fine young fellow full

of fun from the city of Baltimore.

We were called the three Bob's.

Feeling a little of the sense of safety which the stone house afforded, Bob McKim slapped

me on the shoulder and said, I will breakfast with you this morning at your home in Winchester,

and I replied, I will dine with you when we get to Baltimore.

Soon the call to fall in and mount casons came to us, and we ran out from behind the

stone house to where the screaming shells seemed to come closer and closer down the road,

as if they were hunting for us and screaming in anger because they did not find us.

All but I climbed quickly upon the casons.

I don't know why I did not do that also, unless it was because I thought we would move

but a little before we should unlimber for action again.

Here I made a mistake.

The horses went off at once in a trot, and I had only time to catch hold of an iron

seat guard on a cason when the horses were lashed into a gallop.

I hung on with both hands, swinging to and fro, and only now and then touching the ground

to my feet.

The men on the seat could not pull me up, and to let go would mean that the plunging

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