ey saw me
and tuk after me. You'll find 'em right over the hill."

"That's a pretty slick horse you're driving," said the Lieutenant.
"Looks entirely too slick to belong to Chattanooga. It's a much better
horse than mine. I've a notion--"

"Say, them rebels are just over the hill, I tell you," said the Deacon
in a fever of apprehension of losing his steed. "They'll be on top of
you in a minute if you don't look out."

"Right over the hill, did you say?" said the Lieutenant, forgetting for
the moment the horse. "Attention, there, boys. Look out for the rebels.
Advance carbines--Forward--trot! I'll come back directly and take
another look at that horse."

The squad trotted up the hill in the direction the Deacon had pointed,
and as he drove off as fast as he could he heard the spatter of
exchanging shots.

Late in the evening, as he drove off the pontoon into Chattanooga and
turned to the right toward his corn-crib he muttered over to himself:

"They say that when a man starts down the path of sin and crime the road
seems greased for his swift progress. The other day I begun with
petty larceny and chicken stealin'. To-day it's bin highway robbery,
premeditated murder, horse stealin', grand larceny, and tellin' a
deliberate lie. What'll I be doin' this time next week? I must git that
old man's horse and buckboard back to him somehow, and pay him for his
vittles. But how'm I goin' to do it? The army's terribly demoralizin'. I
must git Si back home soon, or I won't be fit to associate with anybody
outside the penitentiary. How kin I ever go to the communion table
agin?"

CHAPTER II. THE DEACON ATTEMPTED RESTITUTION

TRIED TO RETURN THE HORSE TO HIS OWNER.

SI AND SHORTY were on the anxious lookout for the Deacon when he
arrived, and not a little worried lest something might have befallen
him.

Si's weakness made him peevish and fretful, and Shorty was not a great
deal better.

"It's an awful risk to have an old man and a civilian come down here
into camp," Si complained. "And he oughtn't to go about alone. He's
always been used to mingling with the quiet, honest, respectable people.
Up home the people are as honest as the day is long. They're religious
and peaceable, and Pap's never knowed no other kind. He wouldn't harm
nobody for the world, and none o' them'd harm him. He's only a child
among these toughs down here. I wisht one of us was able to be with him
all the time."

"That father o' yours is cert