l tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a boy only eighteen
years of age, and it happened in the war that he was in a town, and the
rebels shelled it. Now this boy had charge of four horses, and the
general had told him to stay in one place, before a church; and he
obeyed. The shells came thick and fast--I saw it all myself--and by-and-
bye one came and took off a leg from one of the horses. Then he was in a
bad way with his horses, but he stayed. After a while the general came
along, and asked him 'why the devil he was stopping there.' And he
replied, 'I was ordered to, sir!' Then the general told him to get
behind the church at once."

"Why!" cried Theodore in amazement, "_I was that boy_!"

"Yes," I replied; "and the famous Roman sentinel who remained at his post
in Pompeii was no braver, and I don't think he had so hard a time of it
as you had with that horse."

I was put on guard. The others departed or lay down to sleep on the
ground. The fire slackened, and only now and then a shell came with its
diabolical scream like a dragon into the town. All at last was quiet,
when there came shambling to me an odd figure. There had been some
slight attempt by him to look like a soldier--he had a _feather_ in his
hat--but he carried his rifle as if after deer or raccoons, and as if he
were used to it.

"Say, Cap!" he exclaimed, "kin you tell me where a chap could get some
ammynition?"

"Go to your quartermaster," I replied.

"Ain't got no quartermaster."

"Well, then to your commanding officer--to your regiment."

"Ain't got no commanding officer nowher' this side o' God, nor no
regiment."

"Then who the devil are you, and where do you belong?"

"Don't belong nowher'. I'll jest tell you, Cap, how it is. I live in
the south line of New York State, and when I heard that the rebs had got
inter Pennsylvany, forty of us held a meetin' and 'pinted me Cap'n. So
we came down here cross country, and 'rived this a'ternoon, and findin'
fightin' goin' on, went straight for the bush. And gettin' cover, we
shot the darndest sight of rebels you ever _did_ see. And now all our
ammynition is expended, I've come to town for more, for ther's some of
'em still left--who want killin' badly."

"See here, my friend," I replied. "You don't know it, but you're nothing
but a bushwhacker, and anybody has a right to hang or shoot you out of
hand. Do you see that great square tent?" Here I pointed to the
general's