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Presently one of the trains stopped opposite them and a voice called from the locomotive: "Do you men know of a squad of Injianny recruits commanded by Serg't Klegg?" "Yes, here they are," said Si, springing up. "I'm Serg't Klegg." "That's him," piped out Pete Skidmore's voice from the engine, with a very noticeable blubber of joy.
Can't you go out and gether up a lot o' niggers that we kin sell 'em?" "Sure," said Groundhog confidently. "Kin git all you want, if you'll pay for 'em. But what's this gang you've got with you?" "O, they're a batch for that blasted Abolition outfit, the 200th Injianny. Them two ornery galoots, Si and Shorty, whose necks I ought've broke when I was with the regiment, have brung 'em down.
"Here, who are you, and where are you going so early in the morning?" he inquired. "My name's Josiah Klegg, sir," said the Deacon, prudently ignoring titles. "I'm from Injianny, and am down here 'tendin' to my son, who belongs to Co. Q, 200th Injianny Volunteers, and who was shot at Chickamaugy.
Let your things go. Probably you stole 'em, anyway." Lieut.-Col. Billings's eye lighted on Shorty, with an expression of having seen him somewhere. "Where do you belong?" he asked crossly. "Co. Q, 200th Injianny Volunteer Infantry," replied Shorty proudly. "Yes. I remember you now," said the Provost-Marshal savagely. "You're one o' them infernal nigger-thieves that brung disgrace on the regiment.
Some times other folkses tries t' stick their noses in, but they'uns git sot down upon." "What'd he pay the preacher?" asked Shorty. "Why, mam gin his wife a hank o' fine stockin' yarn, an' dad gin him a couple sides o' bacon." "At present prices o' pork in Injianny," remarked Si, after a little mental figuring, "that wasn't such a bad fee."
I know better what kin be done with an army wagon and six mules than any Injianny galoot that ever wore stripes or shoulder-straps. You simply can't git a wagon acrost that branch, and I ain't goin' to try." "Groundhog," said Shorty, "you've bin itchin' to be killed for at least a year, that I know of probably as long as you've lived.
You know some ignorant folks say yer for you. And they say the name came from the people who first settled in Injianny sayin' 'Who's yer? to any new comer." "I believe you're right, Shorty," said Si, bending over the board with the charcoal to begin the work. "We'll make it that way, anyway."
All the mean men go to Injianny. Cl'ar out. We don't want nobody 'round heah, and specially no Injiannians. They'uns is a pizun lot." "Yes, cl'ar out immejitly," commanded the old man. "I'm a Jestice of the Peace, and ef you don't go to wunst I'll find a way to make yo'. We've a law agin able-bodied vagrants. Cl'ar out, now."
"Some new recruit's," said Si, as they examined the inside. "Looks like the one I packed from Injianny. What's this? I declare if it ain't a pair o' new shoes, and about my size; and some socks. I tell you, Shorty, I'm in luck." He pulled the muddy socks off his shoeless foot, and drew on one of the warm, homemade affairs, and then the shoe. Both fitted well.
"No," answered Si, as the cheers of a newly-arrived regiment rang out, "the back townships are still comin' in." Monty Scruggs found tongue enough to quote: "And ships by thousands lay below, And men by nations, all were his." "Where in time do you s'pose the 200th Injianny is in all this freshet of men and mules and bosses?" said Si, with an anxious brow.
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