t attention, two paces in front, facin' 'em
and lookin' as severe and impartial as a judge on the bench. I'll stand
behind you with my leg against your'n, this way, and apparently fixing
my gun-lock. When Cap comes in front o' one that we want, yo give me a
little hunch with your leg, and I'll make the lock click."

"Splendid idee," said Si. "I'll go and post the Cap while you git the
boys into line."

When Shorty returned to the squad he found them in feverish excitement
about the distribution to the different companies. As he and Si had
apprehended, all were exceedingly anxious to go with them into Co. Q,
which Si and Shorty had unwittingly impressed upon them was the crack
company of the regiment, and contained the very cream of the men. To
be assigned to any other company seemed to them, if not an actual
misfortune, a lack of good luck.

"Nonsense," Shorty replied to their eager entreaties; "all the companies
in the 200th Injianny is good, prime, first-class--better'n the
companies in ary other rijimint. You're playin' in great luck to git
into any one o' 'em, I tell you. You might've got into one o' 'em
rijimints that're back there at Nashville guardin' fortifications, or
one o' 'em that lost their colors at Chickamaugy. I'd ruther be the tail
end o' the 200th Injianny, than the Drum Major o' any other."

"That's all right," they shouted. "We're glad we're in the 200th
Injianny, but we want to be in Co. Q."

"Well, you can't all be in Co. Q. Only six and one-half of you. The
rest's got to go to other companies."

"Say, Corpril," spoke up Harry Joslyn, "you'll see that I git in, won't
you? You know I shot that rebel at the burnt bridge."

"And didn't I shoot one, too?" put in Gid Mackall. "Just as much as you
did. They want tall men in the company, don't they, Corpril? Not little
runts."

"And didn't I watch the crossing down there at the burnt bridge?"
pleaded Jim Humphreys.

"And git scared to death by a nigger huntin' coons," laughed the
others.

"Who kept the rebel from gittin' back to the train and settin' it on
fire, but me and Sandy Baker?" piped up little Pete Skidmore. "Who got
lost, and nearly killed by a locomotive. Don't that count for nothin'?"

[Illustration: YOU'VE LOST LITTLE PETE 51]

"Boys," said Shorty, leaning on his musket, and speaking with the utmost
gravity, "this's a great military dooty and must be performed without
fear, favor nor affection. I'd like to have you all in Co. Q