They pursued the regiment into the woods--the one that showed the flag of truce--till they were separated from the rest of us." "Forward, Sergeant Somers," added the colonel.
Tom modestly stepped forward, and he would have blushed if his face had not been so reddened by his previous exertions as to leave no room for a deepening of its tint.
"You did a big thing, Sergeant Somers.

You broke that rebel line by your steady fire.

Sergeant Somers, I thank you and the men you commanded for your good service." Tom bowed, and the regiment cheered.

It was the proudest moment of his life to be thanked on the field, while the guns were roaring and the musketry rattling, for the good service he had rendered.

It would form an excellent paragraph for his letter to Lilian Ashford, especially as he had more than once, in the perils of that exciting hour, thought of the socks he wore, and of the letter and the photograph which nestled in his breast pocket, and upon which his quick throbbing heart was beating the notes of glory and victory.
"We gave you up for lost," said Captain Benson, as Tom returned to the line.
"We are safe, thank God!" replied Tom, "though three of our number fell in the woods, or on the field where we were chased by the rebels." "Sergeant Somers saved us," added uncle Hapgood.