ite
of himself, his camp associations asserted themselves, and instinctively
his hand went to his hat in a salute.

This was enough excuse for Shorty. He fell back until the General was
around the corner, out of sight, and then went up to Billings.

"Mister Billings," said he, sternly, "what was the General's orders
about wearin' anything military?"

"Outrageously tyrannical and despotic," answered Billings hotly.
"But jest what you might expect from these Abolition satraps, who're
throttlin' our liberties. A white man's no longer got any rights in
this country that these military upstarts is bound to respect. But I'm
obeyin' the order till I kin git an appeal from it."

"You're a liar. You're not," said Shorty, savagely.

"Why, what in the world have I got on that's military?" asked Billings,
looking himself over.

"You're wearin' a military saloot, which you have no business to. You've
got no right to show that you ever was in the army, or so much as seen
a regiment. You salooted the General jest now. Don't you ever let me see
you do it to him agin, or to no other officer. You musn't do nothin' but
take off your hat and bow. You hear me?"

Shorty was rubbing it in on his old tormentor in hopes to provoke him
to a fight. But the cowed man was too fearful of publicity just then.
He did not know what might be held in reserve to spring upon him. He
shambled away, muttering:

"O, go on! Grind down upon me. You'll be wantin' to send me to a Lincoln
bastile next. But a day will come when white men'll have their rights
agin."

Unfortunately for Shorty, however, he was having things too much his
own way. There were complaints that he was acting as if he owned
Headquarters.

Even the General noticed it, and would occasionally say in tones of
gentle remonstrance:

"See here, Corporal, you are carrying too big a load. Leave something
for the rest of us to do. We are getting bigger pay than you are, and
should have a chance to earn our money."

But Shorty would not take the hint. With his rapidly-returning strength
there had come what Si termed "one of his bull-headed spells,"
which inevitably led to a cataclysm, unless it could be worked off
legitimately, as it usually was at the front by a toilsome march, a
tour of hard fatigue duty, or a battle or skirmish. But the routine of
Headquarters duties left him too much chance to get "fat and sassy."

One day the General and his staff had to go over to Louisville to a