For the rest of the day he was at the head of every assault upon the enemy.

His voice could ever be heard above the firing, cursing the Rebels bitterly, and urging the boys to "Stand up to 'em! Stand right up to 'em! Don't give a inch! Let them have the best you got in the shop! Shoot low, and don't waste a cartridge!" When we surrendered, Ned seemed to yield sullenly to the inevitable.
He threw his belt and apparently his revolver with it upon the snow.
A guard was formed around us, and we gathered about the fires that were started.

Ned sat apart, his arms folded, his head upon his breast, brooding bitterly upon Walter's death.

A horseman, evidently a Colonel or General, clattered up to give some directions concerning us.

At the sound of his voice Ned raised his head and gave him a swift glance; the gold stars upon the Rebel's collar led him to believe that he was the commander of the enemy.