k it for all that it's worth."{188}

"Is it a bargain?" she said suddenly, stretching out her long, skinny
hand.

"Sophrony," said Shorty, taking her hand, "this is so sudden. I never
thought o' marryin'--at least till this cruel war is over. I don't know
what kind of a husband I'd make. I don't know whether I could fill the
place o' your late husband!"

"Yo're not gwine t' sneak out," she said, with a fierce flash in her
gray eyes. "If yo' do I'll have yo' pizened."

"Now, who's talkin' about backin' out?" said Shorty in a fever of
placation, for he was afraid that some of the other boys would overhear
the conversation. "Don't talk so loud. Come, let's walk on toward your
home. We kin talk on the way."

The proposition appeared reasonable. She took the bridle of her horse
in her arm, and together they walked out through the guard-line. The
sentries gave Shorty a deep, knowing wink as he passed. He went the more
willingly, as he was anxious to find out more about the woman, and the
operations of the gang with which she was connected. She had already
said enough to explain several mysterious things of recent occurrence.
Night came down and as her ungainliness was not thrust upon him as it
was in the broad glare of day, he felt less difficulty in professing
a deep attachment for her. He even took her hand. On her part she grew
more open and communicative at every step, and Shorty had no difficulty
in understanding that there was gathered around her a gang that was
practicing about everything detrimental to the army. They were by turns
spies, robbers, murderers, whisky{189} smugglers, horse-thieves, and
anything else that promised a benefit to themselves. Ostensibly they
were rebels, but this did not prevent their preying upon the rebels when
occasion offered. Some were deserters from the rebel army, some were
evading the conscript laws, two or three were deserters from our army.

Shorty and the woman had reached a point nearly a half-mile outside of
the guard-line when he stopped and said:

"I can't go no farther now. I must go back." "Why must yo' go back?" she
demanded, with a{190} sudden angry suspicion. "I thought yo' wuz gwine
right along with me."

"Why, no. I never thought o' that. I must go back and get my things
before I go with you," said Shorty, as the readiest way of putting her
off.

"Plague take y'r things," she said. "Let 'em go. Yo' kin git plenty more
jest as good from the next Yankee camp. Yo'