look upon General Hayes's face and realized what was passing in their commander's mind.
"He can't get through; some rebel sharpshooter will fetch him," said more than one old veteran. "He's sure to be shot down before he's gone half the distance."
One or two called to McKinley to come back,—in utter defiance of the fact that he carried an order from the general,—for they loved him deeply. But he merely shook his head, and soon he was out of hearing.
"He'll never come back alive," came from one of the captains.
"It's facing certain death," added another.
On and on and still on rode Lieutenant McKinley, over the fields, leaping fences and ditches, rough rocks, and low brushwood. Bullets flew in front and behind him, but he appeared to bear a charmed life. His course lay obliquely toward the enemy, and thousands of Unionists and Confederates saw him make the mad dash. Then a battery was turned in that direction, and the whining shriek of a shell was
