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"Why, hardly, if I'm behindhand now. Is it so fine as that?"

"Who--o?" It was not one who asked; the whos came like shrapnel; and when, not knowing what else to do, I smiled as one dying, there went up a wail of mirth that froze my blood and then heated it to a fever. The company howled. They rolled over one another, crying, "Charlie Toliver!--Charlie Toliver!--Oh, Lord, where's Scott Gholson!--Charlie Toliver!"--and leaped up and huddled down and moaned and rolled and rose and looked for me.

"Oh, General, if you send an officer they'll see the ruse! I can do it! I'll do it all right!"

"True; but neither are the enemy, and they're early risers, you know."

"Whose hand was it; that fellow's, yonder?" Oliver was several paces away.

"Yes, and of course I had to take the upper fork. I am glad you said that yesterday morning; it came as sometimes the artillery, eh?--just at the right moment."

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