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Updated: May 6, 2025
"An' tell her I'm gwine take good keer o' Hugh an' the Cunnel. Good-bye! now run along!" "All right, sir, good-bye." "An' ef you hear anybody say Tim Mills is a d'serter, tell 'em it's a lie, an' you know it. Good-bye." He turned away as if relieved. The boys said good-bye to all three, and started in the direction of home.
"What do you want?" they asked him, seeing how cool he was. "Don't you want a guide?" he asked, drawlingly. "Who are you?" inquired the corporal in charge. He paused. "Some calls me a d'serter," he said, slowly. The men all looked at him curiously. "Well, what do you want?" "I thought maybe as you wanted a guide," he said, quietly. "We don't want you.
"Good mornin', Tim," he said, with great politeness. The man on the stump said nothing; he only looked on with complacent enjoyment. "Tim, is these two boys crazy?" he asked slowly. "They're crazy 'bout shootin' deserters," replied Tim. "Tim, tell 'em I ain't no deserter." His voice was full of entreaty. "Well, if you ain't a d'serter, what you doin' outn the army?"
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