Every man within the barricade volunteered. Quickly Lawrence counted off fifteen. "The rest stay with Lieutenant Hale and hold the barricade," he ordered.
With the fifteen men Lawrence boldly charged after the fleeing enemy. They had commenced to rally, but a few well directed volleys once more put them to flight.
Ten or twelve wagons were in flames, half a dozen of the teamsters lay weltering in their blood, and the poor mules lay in heaps as they had fallen. The ambulances had been in the rear of the train and so the occupants had escaped.
It was found that fifteen of the teamsters and soldiers had been killed or wounded. Of the guerrillas, thirty lay dead or desperately wounded.
After the fight was over Captain Jackson came creeping back. He claimed that before he retreated he had killed two of the guerrillas with his own hand and he had only gone to the rear to order up Lieutenant Hale.
"Captain Jackson, you are under arrest."
"Sergeant Strong, please relieve Captain Jackson of his sword," said Lawrence, coolly.
"By what right do you arrest me?" roared the Captain. "I refuse to be arrested. Sergeant Strong, dare to arrest me and I will have you court-martialed."
"As the representative of General Schofield I arrest you; I am on his staff," quietly answered Lawrence. "Sergeant, do your duty."
The Captain delivered up his sword without a word. The name of General Schofield was potent.