Major Lyon was still unwilling to charge upon the rabble; for they had ceased to fire their rusty firelocks. It was getting dark, and something must be done. He called Deck, and gave him a mass of instructions, which the orderly took in without any repetitions, for Captain Gordon. Colonel Coffee volunteered to conduct the messenger though his grounds to a gate near the position of the other portion of the company; and Deck delivered his message. He was rather sorry he was not permitted to proceed as he had before; for he had abundant confidence in his ability to take care of himself.
The commander rode up a bank at the side of the road, where he could see over the heads of the enemy as soon as his son returned to him. A moment later he saw Captain Gordon deploy a line of skirmishers, which extended entirely across the broad avenue, with another rank behind them. Both advanced in slow time, with none of the fury of a regular charge; but it was soon evident that they "meant business."
Captain Stinger seemed to be confused, and failed to understand the slow movement of his foe, and gave no orders. At the same time, and in the same manner, Sergeant Knox led his men forward; and the "fire-eater" in command of the rabble could not help seeing that his command was to be pinched between the two approaching bodies of troopers. Life kept himself well in advance of his skirmishers; and possibly he felt more like a brigadier-general than ever before in his life. He watched the enemy with the eye of an eagle ready to swoop down upon his prey.
Captain Stinger evidently realized that if his men fired in either direction, the troopers would charge upon them, and it would be but the work of a minute or two to slaughter the whole of them. He was seen to make a gesture to a man who was preparing to fire without orders, and the ruffian refrained from doing so. He plainly knew not what to do, since there was nothing he could do. But when the front rank of Knox was within twenty feet of him, with the sergeant ahead of it, he seemed to be unable to "hold in" any longer, and unslung the rifle at his back.
Knox saw that he was to be the first victim of the irate fire-eater; and he jammed his heels into the flanks of his spirited steed, the animal making a long spring, which brought him up with the front line of the enemy. Still pressing the steed forward, he upset two or three men, and brought up, when the horse could go no farther, alongside the captain.
The doughty sergeant did not wait to trifle with any weapons, but, leaning over, he seized the captain by the collar of his coat, dragged him from his horse, and placed him across his holsters. Bending over his victim, he held him in his place by the pressure of his body, while he wheeled his horse, and made his way out of the crowd.
"Take 'em that way!" he shouted to the men.
But there was hardly one of them who had the physical strength to accomplish such a feat, though they soon grappled with the guerillas, and dragged them out of the mêlée. The men on the other side of the enemy resorted to the same sort of tactics, which was not laid down in the regular manual for the instruction of the cavalry.
Captain Stinger was not a model Kentuckian physically any more than his lieutenant; if he had been, Knox could hardly have handled him so conveniently. The pressure of the sergeant's chest upon his backbone had a tendency to tame him; but he was trying to get at some weapon concealed upon his person. Knox had his pockets under command, and took two revolvers from them, which he thrust into his breast. He had his sabre dangling by the tassel knot at his right wrist, while he held the reins with his left hand. His right was at liberty to seize the pistols.