“You are a Confederate officer?”
“I seem to be; but I am not. Be that as it may, your presence is dangerous to my health and comfort.”
“I see: you are the deserter.”
“I am; but the future lies between you and me.”
“Then we will let the future speak for itself,” answered the officer, drawing a pistol from his belt. “Surrender, or you are a dead man!”
“I must positively decline the honor,” replied De Banyan, as he swung the pitch-fork over his head, and attempted to strike him down.
He failed; and the officer fired, but without effect. At that moment, Somers stepped forward with a billet of wood he found on the floor. At the same time, De Banyan raised the pistol; but the rebel fired a second time before he could discharge it. Somers instantly dropped his stick, and his left arm fell to his side; the ball had passed through it. De Banyan fired; the officer sank down, not killed, but badly wounded.