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As Paul stopped to gaze a moment upon a countenance which seemed familiar, the soldier opened his eyes and smiled; then Paul saw that it was the brave sharpshooter whom he had helped on the march, who, though sick, would not go into the hospital, though wounded, would not leave the field, and had aided him in rallying the fugitives.
Each threw up his hand in a gesture of friendliness and farewell the roar of the battle was so loud now that no voice could have been heard at the distance and then they disappeared in the smoke, each returning to his own, each heart thrilling with a great joy, because its owner had always missed the sharpshooter behind the stone.
Old Man Curry hoisted the tails of his coat, thrust his hands into the hip pockets of his trousers, hunched his shoulders level with his ears and turned away. "You ain't quitting, are you?" demanded the Sharpshooter. "Friend," said Old Man Curry, "I ain't even started yet. It appears upon the face of the returns that you have bought one big, red hoss.... A trick hoss.
It was his idea to be a sharpshooter, and aim at the button on the left breast of the enemy, but when he found that lots of the rebels didn't have any buttons on their coats and that he might shoot all day at a single rebel and not hit him, and that shooting into them in flocks didn't seem to diminish the enemy the least bit, he had made up his mind to turn his hand to anything; and if the rebellion could be put down easier by his stealing horses at thirteen dollars a month, he would do it if ordered.
"Yes, that's right," said the boy faintly. "I don't want to lose that; but Oh, I say, look at that there dent! What'll the colonel say when he sees that?" "Shall I tell you, Punch?" said the young man, who bent over him, watching every change in his face. "Yes no. I know: `Careless young whelp, or something; and the sergeant " "Never mind the sergeant," said the young sharpshooter.
The sergeant caught at the rifle of the sharpshooter, and pressed it down. "Look!" he whispered. "He IS a scout. He is searching the trail for the tracks of our ponies. If you fire they will hear it a league away." "But if he finds our trail and returns " The sergeant shook his head. "I let him pass forward," he said grimly. "He will never return."
Now, I'm going to make a break for that cottonwood. When I go, you better run up a white handkerchief and move back from the firing-line. Turn Buck loose when you leave. He'll stay around and come when I whistle." He made a run for it, zigzagging through the sage-brush so swiftly as to offer the least certain mark possible for a sharpshooter.
"As far as the old man will go." "Well, look out you don't start a selling-race war." The Sharpshooter sneered. "Curry hasn't got nerve enough to fight us," said he. Now the "selling race" is an institution devised and created for the protection of owners against owners, the theory being to prevent the running of horses out of their proper class.
I say, old sharpshooter, she may have pretty bones, but I cant say so much for her flesh, dye see, for she looks somewhat like anatomy with another mans jacket on. Now for the skin of her face, its all the same as a new topsail with a taut bolt-rope, being snug at the leeches, but all in a bight about the inner cloths, Peace I command you to be silent, sir! said Elizabeth.
Buck started to his feet in amazement, the stem of the pipe still in his mouth, the bowl shattered into a hundred bits. His first thought was that he had been the target for a sharpshooter. There was a neat hole through the framework of the window case, showing where the bullet had plowed.
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