The National tribune., 1899-11-23

Scratched your thinkery, did it:" growled
Shorty. Reached for the nest where you
hatch your Spellin' lessons and do your
sums? If your head ID bin half-an-inch
higher your named bin Mud. Mebbe you'll
mind what | say after this, you restless,
squirmin' little maggot."
Crawl back to the rear. Skidmore," said
Capt McGillicuddy, "and let the Surgeon
look to your hurt"
please, can't stay, Captain?" pleaded
Pete. at amt hurtin' me much now, and
the bloods stopped runnin'."
NO; skip out, Pete" commanded Shorty.
'sPm worried to death all the time you're
here, and / can't tend to my own business
properly from thinkin' about you. / lost
one good fair shot at "a feller's head, Just be-
cause You distracted me by pokin' your
head above the log. My not downin' that
feller may cost some of us our lives, for 'm
sure he's the one that's bin doin' some
mighty sharp work"
please let me STAY" begged Pete. 81
can't see nothin' back there"
Say" called out voice from the other
side, who'd ! fetch that time? Did | kill a
JigadicrBrindle:
..Naah," Shorty yelled back. 'You
didn't Kill nobody. You only creased a
sYo'uns IS lyin' straight" returned the
voice from the rebel lines. "Yo'uns IS
maxim too much pow-wow fur that. /
mustve at least killed a Kunnel. | amt
wastin' no lead creaSin' boys. I'm layin'
for big game, ] am"
"You are, you clay-eatin' disciple o Jeff
Davis" ST yelled back. well, you hain't
hit nobody to hurt this whole mornin'-not
even brevet Corporal. You're too afeared
o shown your piaguey carkiss, to git a
good aim"
"That's it, go on tauntin' him, ST."
whispered Shorty, who had an idea. Devil
him into showin' little o hisself. Pete,
git your gun loaded, and lay for him.
He's right there by that splintered stub on
the head-log. See it? Draw down fine
on the crack below it. Keep cool, now, and
look along your sights. There, a little
more to the left. Hold her steady there,
and wait. Go ahead, Si."
whats the matter with you fellers?" 81
called out. "You can't shoot alongside of
us any day in the week. Did the lickin's
we give you back at Dalton and Resaca
shake yoilr nerves? I'll bet / kin stick my
hat up and you can't hit it. We must've
downed "A dozen of you fellers today, and
all that you've done is to scratch one of us,
and he a little boy. Fine set o shots you
are"
whats that you say? What's that you
saw" roared the rebel. 81 kin outshoot any
man yo'uns we got over thar. Yo'uns
dassent show button over yer head-log,
but I'll knock hit off. I'll knock off the pint
o your ramrod four times outen five if
yo'iins II stick hit up"
'I'll bet you three days rations o. coffee
you can't hit the butt Of musket stuck up
sideways" said ST, in a tantaliZing tone.
"And I'll give you three tries at it,"
"I'Il take you. I'll bet you canteen o.
applejack agin your coffee. Stick up yer
gun"
warned Shorty, in a stage-whisper. "Now,
Pete, look sharp. When you git a dead
bead on that streak o light just under the
stub, aim full inch under the bottom O.
the log. Wait just a thought after you see
that streak o light darkened, and then pull
the trigger. You'll ketch him somewhere
about the head, and settle him. Stick up
your gun, 81. 81.
Hand me that rebel gun there" whis-
havin' my own spilled"
He raised the glIn-butt, holding it loosely,
so that lIc wouldn't be hurt if it was knocked
out of his hand.
Almost instantly a shot came from the
rebel side, and graZed the iron band on the
musket-butt. Almost simultaneously,
Pete fired, and his shot was echoed by
screech from the rebel side.
mo fair! FOUL Foul! Dirty Yankee
trick, you bluerbellied scoundrelsw yelled
the rebels, opening a venomous fusilade on
the works, to which Co. Q responded with
interest.
"Say, s'pose I'll have to pay the bet,
though you didn't ackchelly win," ST
called over, after the firing had died down.
"You didn't hit the butt fair, only scraped
it, but as l said hit, I'll stand by it. I'll
throw the coffee over the works."
"And then shoot the man that tries to git
hit" yelled the rebels back. you blasted
varmits, jest show yer heads above yer
banks. and we'uns III blow 'em off,"
''Thankee for the invite" said ST. "After
you's manners. Stick up your own heads
first"
pete, you ketched him somewhere about
the Jaw" Shorty congratulated that pal
pitating youth, "and got full pay for that
scratch on your head. You done yourself
proud"
The firing became merely an occasional
shot, and many of the men crawled out of
the ditch, and threw themselves down on
the ground behind for a rest of their tense
nerves.
ST and Shorty remained on watch, and
also Pete Skidmore, who was SO inflated