The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1865-01-03

rush. The air resoundS with the clash
of steel, the sharp crack Of pistols, the
moand OF the wounded and wild cries
for mercy. 5.t A,1rsti Boz .sqirl.. :
Tom Patson, Jack Dwight and their
Captain are fighting side by side with
superhuman energy. Toms hat is
gone, his breast is bare his face is be-
grimmed with dust and smoke, and
half covered by mask Of blood flow
ing from a wound in his scalp. Yell
fng like wild beast, he strikes to the
right and left, telling rebel at every
blow. 9,~t "a b4rsiga GOA
"Tom, there's Ardent cried Jack
Dwight. -3W :5fl 10 .i,i. e
"Where ?" tlea ,aqie.a
"There," pointing to an officer whe
was flying from the field. iil qz9
The next moment poor Jack Dwight
was numbered with the dead. A bull
let struck him in the centre ofthe fore
head and passed through his brain.
Never needing his friends fall, Tom
Patson drove his spurs into his horse's
sides and dashed forward in pursuit of
his enemy. On they 60, over fences,
walls and bitches, one only thinking of
escape, the other intent on revenge.
Tom fires shot after shot at the flying
man but without effect; the rapid mo-
! ton Of his horse renders his aim un-
steady. On they go, mile. after mile,
the sounds of the battle growing indis-
tinct in the distance. Tom commen-
ces to gain on the fugitive, and as he
does so his heart bounds with exulta-
ton. Arden's horse commences to
show signs OF fatigue, but Toms hosse
being nearly thoroughbred, is compar-
atively fresh,
"Ha, Nero!" said Tom to his good
steed, 81 thought when struck down
your rebel owner, that you would one
day stand me in good stead"
Arden urges on his horse with spur
and by blows ofhis sabre, but to no
avail. Tom gains on him at every
stride. Now Arden heads his horse
for wall, and with heavy blows urges
him to take the leap. The faithful
brute strains every nerve to accomplish
his masters will; but he strives in vain
his fore feet strike the top Of the wall
and he falls headlong in the field be-
yond. -.-
Before Arden could release himself
from his fallen animal, Tom Patson
cleared the wall with bound. Dis
mounting he strobe up to Arden, who
stood at bay sword in hand.
"Paul Arden, do you know me?''
said Tom.
81 know you for an internal Yankee!"
was Arden's reply.
"Do you recollect Kate Chester?
All! 1 see you do!" said Arden as he
turned ghastly white. al am Tom
Patson, and you shall never quit this
field alive!''
In another moment their swords
crossed and it was instantly apparent
that Arden was no match for his adver-
sary. His sword was soon beaten
from his grasp, and he was soon borne
to the ground by Tom.
For Gods sake spare me,' cried
the PROSTATE man, as he looked appeal
ingly up into the face of his enemy,
There was no mercy in the counte,
naroe that met his gaze-nothing but
deadly hatred.
"Ask mercy of your God!" cried
Tom, as he plunged his sword through
Arden's throat.
A low gasp, few violent contor-
tons of his body, and Paul Arden had
passed from earth.
Tom remounted his horse, and soon
reached the road, and then set out at
a quick gallop to rejoin his friends. He
had not proceeded far when lie saw
five or six horsemen coming furiously
towards him. A glance at their uni
forms convinced him they were rebels
flying from the battle field.
''It was useless for me to attempt to
escape from them," he said to himself;
sand besides, now that Paul Arden
is dead, there is nothing to make me
care for life. So here goes to cut my
way through or die in the attempt"
and he spurred his horse to meet his
foes.
AT the sight of his blue uniform the
rebels gave yell of rage, and oame on
with redoubled speed. Nothing
daunted by this. Tom, sword in hand,
dashed forward to meet them. Down
90 the two foremost by the shock of
his furious onset, and third is felled
by blow ofhis saber. A bullet strikes
him fair in tho chest, He reels
in the saddle, then strives to recover
himself. lie is too late. A saber de-
scends upon his unprotected head,
cleaving through the skull as though
it was paper, and Tom Patson, muir
mering, skate l go to meet you," falls
from his horse, dead.
How THE QUEENS SPEECH is WRIT
,-r>- - In tho Late snanch hu Mr. o.