eek for that little rat to git over his fever
about that gun," he mused, "until he'll be able to set up and think
about anything else. Then it'll take him at least another week to
build a letter. Great Jehosephat, how'm I goin' to stand it till then?
Where'll I be two weeks from now? What kin I do? I a'most wish that
something'd happen to Si that'd give me an excuse for writin'."

He racked his fertile brain with expedients and devices for getting up
communication, but for once he had to reject them all. There was a halo
of unapproachableness about Maria Klegg that paralyzed him.

He awoke the next morning with the same anxiety gnawing at his heart,
and it haunted him so that he went through the morning's routine
mechanically. When he came back from taking a squad up to Headquarters
to report for fatigue duty, the Orderly-Sergeant called out:

"Here's a letter for you, Corporal Elliott." Shorty took the small white
envelope from the Orderly's hand, and looked at it curiously. Who could
it be from? It resembled somewhat the letters that once came from
Bad Ax, Wis., but then again it was very different. He studied the
handwriting, which was entirely strange to him. Then he was electrified
by seeing that the postmark seemed to be something the same as on Si's
letters, but was blurred. He gave a little gasp, and said:

"Orderly, I'd like to git off a little while today." "Why, Shorty,"
remonstrated the busy Sergeant, "you were off yesterday. But go. I'll
try to get along without you. Don't stay long."

[Illustration: A LETTER FROM MARIA. 81]

Shorty would not trust himself to more than look at the outside, until
he had gained a safe screen behind a clump of bushes. Then he took out
his knife, carefully slit the envelope, and read:

Dear Mr. Elliot--

I take my pen in hand to inform you that we are all in good
health and hope you are enjoyin' the same blessing fur which
we should all be thankful to God. I am over on a visit to
Prairie Hen and Mrs. Skidmore a widow woman called to see me
today In the course of conversation she said her little boy
Peter had run off and shed hurd hed joined the 200th Indiana
Volunteer Infantry. She heard that we had folks in that
regiment and so had come over to see me to see if I knowed
anybody that would give her any news about her boy so as she
could ask them to look out for him. I told her I knowed a
gentleman in the 200th