s a
quick pressure, a snap like the crack of a percussion cap, and all was
over.

Si shuddered, and wondered if he could ever engage in such a work of
slaughter.

"D'ye s'pose," he said to Shorty, "that there's any more of 'em on me?"
And he began to hitch his shoulders about, and to feel a desire to put
his fingers to active use.

"Shouldn't wonder," replied Shorty. "Mebbe I've got 'em, to. Let's go
out'n do a little skirmishin' ourselves."

"We'd better go off a good ways," said Si, "so's the boys won't see us."

"You're too nice and pertickler for a soljer. Si. They'll all be doin'
it, even the Cap'n himself, by termorrer or nex' day."

They went out back of the camp, where Si insisted on getting behind
the largest tree he could find. Then they sat down and engaged in that
exciting chase of the Pediculus up and down the seams of their garments,
so familiar to all who wore either the blue or the gray. Thousands
of nice young men who are now preachers and doctors and lawyers and
statesmen, felt just as bad about it at first as Si did.

"Shorty," said Si, as they slowly walked back to eat their supper, which
had been neglected in the excitement of the hour, "before Co. Q left
Posey County to jine the rigiment a feller 't was home on furlow told
me ter let my finger-nails grow long 'n' sharp. He said I'd need 'em. I
didn't know what he meant then, but I b'lieve I do now."

CHAPTER XII. A WET NIGHT

THE DEPRAVITY OF AN ARMY TENT REVEALS ITSELF.

NIGHT threw her dark mantle over the camp of the 200th Ind. The details
of guard and picket had been made. Videts, with sleepless eye and
listening ear, kept watch and ward on the outposts, while faithful
sentries trod their beats around the great bivouac. All day the army had
marched, and was to take the road again at an early hour in the morning.
Supper had been eaten, and the tired soldiers were gathered around the
campfires that gleamed far and near through the darkness.

"Si," said Shorty to his chum as they sat on a log beside the dying
embers, "how d'ye like soldierin', as fur as ye've got?"

"It's purty hard business," said Si, reflectively, "an' I s'pose we
haint seen the worst on it yet, either, from what I've hearn tell. Pity
the men that got up this war can't be made to do all the trampin' 'n'
fitin'. An' them fellers up in old Injjeanny that come 'round makin'
such red-hot speeches to git us boys to 'list, wouldn't it be fun to
see 'em humpin' 'long