ons on the needs o' his country. As for me,
I'll go agin to seek a soldier's grave, for I cannot forgit you."
As he handed her the letters and picture he was dismayed to notice that
the piece of Maria's dress was mixed in with them. He snatched it away,
shoved it back in his pocket, pulled his hat down over his eyes, and,
with a melodramatic air, rushed forward into the smoking-car, where he
seated himself and at once fell asleep.
He was awakened in the morning at Jeffersonville, by the provost-guard
shaking him and demanding his pass.
CHAPTER IX. SHORTY IN TROUBLE
HAS AN ENCOUNTER WITH THE PROVOST-MARSHAL.
"I AINT got no pass," said Shorty, in response to the demand of the
Provost-Guard. "Bin home on sick-furlough. Goin' back to the front now.
Left my papers at home. Forgot 'em."
"Heard all about lost and missing papers before," said the Sergeant
drily. "Fall in there, under guard." And he motioned Shorty to join the
gang of stragglers and runaways which had already been gathered up.
"Look here. Sergeant," remonstrated Shorty, "I don't belong in that pack
o' shell-fever invalids, and I won't fall in with 'em. There's no yaller
or cotton in me. I'm straight goods, all wool, and indigodyed. I've
bin promoted Corpril in my company for good conduct at Chickamauga. I'm
goin' back to my regiment o' my own accord, before my time's up, and I
propose to go my own way. I won't go under guard."
"You'll have to, if you can't show a pass," said the Sergeant
decisively. "If you're a soldier you know what orders are. Our orders
are to arrest every man that can't show a pass, and bring him up to
Provost Headquarters. Fall in there without any more words."
"I tell you I'm not goin' back to the regiment under guard," said Shorty
resolutely. "I've no business to go back at all, now. My furlough ain't
up for two weeks more. I'm goin' back now of my own free will, and in
my own way. Go along with your old guard, and pick up them deadbeats and
sneaks, that don't want to go back at all. You'll have plenty o' work
with them, without pesterin' me."
"And I tell you you must go," said the Sergeant, irritably, and turning
away, as if to end the discussion. "Williams, you and Young bring him
along."
"I'll not go a step under guard, and you can't make me," answered Shorty
furiously, snatching up the heavy poker from the stove. "You lunkheaded,
feather-bed soldiers jest keep your distance, if you know what's good
for you.
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