Dick saw him springing about and blowing a little silver whistle, which he knew was a call to rally.
But the surprise was too sudden and great.

The irregulars, fighting hard, were driven out of the valley and into the woods on the upper side of the glade.

Sheltered in the underbrush, they might have made a good defense there, but a sudden tremendous cheer arose, and they were charged in the flank by the Ohio regiment, coming up on the run.
Spurred by emulation the Winchester men also rushed into the underbrush, and those of Slade's men who had not fallen quickly threw down their arms.

But they did not catch the leader, nor did they know what had become of him, until Dick caught sight of a little, weazened figure under an enormous wide-brimmed hat running with three or four others along the mountain-side.
"Slade! Slade!" he cried, pointing, and instantly a score, Dick and the sergeant among them, were hotfoot after the fugitives.

Several shots were fired, but none hit, and the chase lengthened out.
Sergeant Whitley exclaimed to Dick: "We catch the pack, but if we don't catch the leader there'll be another pack soon." "Right you are! We must have that little man under the big hat!" Dick heard panting breaths, and Warner and Pennington drew up by his side.
"Slade's about to escape!" exclaimed Dick.