Colonel Town was already waiting for him, as was Alger of the Fifth and Colonel Gray of the Sixth. He had already sent orders back to Colonel Mann to take his entire command to block the National Road bridge.

"It's going to get hot," Custer announced. "I saw Jeb Stuart over there. A brigade is coming up. I suspect he'll have another one or two up shortly."

"Let 'em come," Town growled. "We got this side now and we'll hold it."

Custer grinned, then shook his head.

"If I knew we had infantry coming up, I wouldn't worry, but we don't know. Colonel Town, get a couple of your troopers, ones with the best mounts. Send them west on the National Road toward Hagerstown. Have them report to whoever is at the head of the infantry column they should find. Tell them we're holding the west bank of the Monocacy and will attempt to burn the bridge, but we need support."

"That thing? We can burn that in no time," Town said, leaning around the side of the depot for a few seconds to point at the bridge. A bullet whacked into the clapboard siding beside his face.

Custer laughed softly when he pulled back.

"See what I mean? We have to do it under fire, and it's going to get worse. We just can't send men out there with kindling and coal oil, they'll get mowed down."

The three colonels around him nodded in agreement.

"Mann is to hold the north flank. Alger, you hold the center here with your Fifth. I doubt if they'll try and rush the bridge, but they might get desperate and try it. Gray, for the moment you'll be in reserve. Move your boys back to that woodlot behind us, keep them mounted, though, and ready to move quick to where I need them. Town, your boys get the right flank. And I want that covered bridge burned as well before they try and get a column across. It should be easier than burning the rail bridge.

"I sent some men up to Frederick. There's a couple of locomotives there. Check with your own men, anybody who has railroading experience, detail them off to go back to town and help out. We're going to take those two trains, get them on the bridge, and blow them. That should take things down."

"Should be fun," Town said.

"Unless you're on the train," Gray replied.

Monocacy Creek 7:45 A.M.

"Jenkins, Jones, we cannot let the Yankees burn that bridge!" Jeb Stuart, with his two brigade commanders, stood pointing out the window of the top floor of the mill just south of the railroad track and north of the toll road on the east bank of the Monocacy.

The volume of carbine fire was rapidly increasing as the first of Jenkins's men, of the Fourteenth Virginia, dismounted and pushed down to the river's edge. Behind them the men of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth were dismounting as well, forming up to go in.

"We keep it under fire," Jenkins offered, "and there is no way in hell they can get out on to it and set it ablaze."

"From what I've heard so far about this Custer, he's impetuous," Jeb said. "Remember, he did fight his way out after Union Mills. He might try anything."

Jeb walked to the other side of the top floor of the mill and looked over at the covered bridge just south of the railroad. With his field glasses he could see Yankees deployed across the front of that bridge and along the riverbank. He studied them intently and saw that some of them were bringing up armloads of wood, kindling. So they were going to burn that first. Good move, he'd have done the same.

"Jenkins, think you can storm that bridge?" Jeb asked.

Jenkins looked out the window, studying the double-spanned bridge for a long moment.

"It's over a hundred yards long, sir. We try to charge that, we'll have four men across inside the bridge, but one volley and our boys will get tangled up."

"I want that bridge," Jeb said. "We take it, we flank Custer, then drive him back from the depot."

"Sir, do it on horseback, I don't know. Two or three wounded horses inside a covered bridge…" His voice trailed off. They were all experienced enough to know that inside a covered bridge a few downed horses could stop an entire charge.

"Your boys of the Thirty-fourth, are they still mounted?" "Coming up now, sir."

Jeb hesitated, then looked over reassuringly at Jenkins.

"We've got to try. Send them in. The Yankees will have that bridge afire in a few more minutes. Send in the Thirty-fourth. First company mounted, the rest on foot behind them. With luck your first company can rush it, then the dismounted men secure it."

Jenkins nodded, but his features were grim, as if Jeb had just given a death order.

"There must be fords along this river. It's not that deep."

"Send out patrols to look for them, but I want that bridge now. We fail in that, well, then try to find the fords. Get the boys of the Thirty-fourth ready. Have the rest of your men sweep the rail bridge with carbine fire. How long before some artillery comes up?"

"Jackson with the Charlottesville Battery is still an hour or more off, sir," Jenkins said.

"Send a courier back and tell them to move it, to move it! The next hour could be the decisive hour."

He turned on Jones.

"You have the north flank. If you think you can rush the National Road bridge, do it now! Probe for fords. Secure your left flank to Jenkins's right."

"What kind of reinforcements can we expect?" Jones asked.

"Fitz Lee's boys are back at Sykesville. I've pulled them off shadowing the north and I'm bringing them here, but it will be midday or later before they come up. Scales's infantry division was supposedly loading up in Baltimore after midnight. They should be up any time now."

"Artillery with them?" Jenkins asked. "A battalion of artillery could smother those damn Yankees, and push them back."

"A couple more batteries. Combined with the Charlottesville boys and your light battery, we can pound the hell out of them, but that is still hours away. I want that covered bridge before then, and once we take it, we flank Custer and secure the rail bridge."

He pointed toward the distant crest of the Catoctin Range, four miles away, standing out dark blue in the morning light.

"I'm not sure when, but today most likely, Grant and his infantry will come pouring out of that pass up there. He's only got one road to traverse those mountains. We take the ridge and block the road, we got the bastard bottled, no mistake. General Lee wants us to secure that pass and then the Yankees will bleed themselves white trying to get over it. I want that ridge today, and not just the railroad. Now move it!"

Baltimore and Ohio Bail Yard 8:00 A.M.

"God damn it, McDougal, now what!" Cruickshank roared. A billowing vent of steam was blowing out from the lead locomotive of the convoy. The engineer was out of his cab, stamping his feet, cursing, looking around, bewildered.

McDougal, cursing, left Cruickshank's side and ran up to the engine, stopping at the edge of the plume of scalding steam.

"Stephens, you stupid son of a bitch!" McDougal roared. "What happened?"

The engineer looked back at him and then simply shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes were focused nervously on Cruickshank, who was up by McDougal's side.

"I don't know, sir. I started to feed in steam to get moving and a line just blew wide open."

"Well, shut the damn thing down," McDougal screamed, trying to be heard above the high-pitched whistling roar of the venting steam.

Stephens climbed back into the cabin, worked a valve, and the roar drifted down to a whisper. McDougal cautiously approached the locomotive, shaking his head, and then pointed toward the steam line that fed into the left-side cylinder of the locomotive.

"Busted, sir," McDougal sighed. "Just blown wide open. It'll have to be replaced."

"How long?"

"Four hours at least." 'Too many things have broken, McDougal."