d intended to torture his victim with his tongue, as he would
with his knife or his rifle if occasion required.

"I say, Yank, you look better'n yer did 'fore yer changed your colors,"
repeated the rebel, as he received no reply to his first salutation.

Somers looked at him again; indeed, he had hardly taken his eyes off the
savage-looking fellow, who would have made a very good representative of
Orson in the fairy story. He held a rifle in his hand, the muzzle of
which could easily be brought to bear upon his victim. Our lieutenant at
once understood the humor of the fellow; and, having recovered his
self-possession in the momentary pause, he determined not to be behind
his foe either in word or in deed.

"I say, reb, when did you shave last?" demanded Somers, with something as
near akin to a laugh as he could manufacture for the occasion.

"'Fore you was born, I reckon, Yank," replied the rebel; "and I sha'n't
shave ag'in till after you're dead. But I reckon I sha'n't hev ter wait
long nuther."

"I suppose you don't know what a comb is for, do you?" continued Somers,
who was, however, thinking of some method by which he might get out of
this scrape.

"I reckon I've heerd about such things; but Joe Bagbone ain't a woman,
and don't waste his time no such way. I say, stranger, you've got about
three minutes more to live."

"How long?"

"Three minutes, stranger, I've sat here by them clothes, like a dog at a
'possum's nest, all the arternoon. Now I've treed the critter, and I'm
gwine to shoot him."

"Is that so?"

"That's so, stranger."

"Do you usually shoot any man you happen to meet in the woods?"

"Well, I don't reckon we do, every man; but some on 'em we does. I
calkilate you got on Tom Myers's clothes now, and yer shot the man 'fore
you took the rags."

"I didn't shoot him."

"No matter for that, stranger; he was shot by a Yank, and you've got to
settle the account."

Somers began to be of the same opinion himself. The grayback had
evidently found the clothes, and suspected the purpose for which they
were concealed. It was possible he had even more definite information
than this; for he seemed to be prepared for precisely what had taken
place.

"My friend----"

"I'm not your friend, stranger. You kin say anything you like, if yer
don't insult me; Joe Bagbone don't take an insult from any live man."

"Well, Joe Bagbone," continued Somers, who was disposed to parley with
the fellow to gain ti