was detailed with a squad to help
them in their search.

"Well, the naval officers gave us every facility in their power; the
river was dragged twice over, and the woods along-shore ransacked,
hoping it might have been washed in and, maybe, buried; but there wasn't
sight or trace of it. While we were hunting round we stumbled on a
couple of darkies, who told us, after a bit of questioning, that darky
number three, somewhere about, had found the body of a Federal officer
on the river bank, and buried it. On that hint we acted, posted over to
the fellow's shanty, and found, not him, but his wife, who was ready
enough to tell us all she knew. She showed us some traps of the buried
officer, among them a pair of spurs, which his brother recognized
directly. When she was quite sure that we were all correct, and that the
thing had fallen into the right hands, she fished out of some safe
corner his wallet, with fifty-seven dollars in it. I confess I stared,
for they were slaves, both of them, and evidently poor as Job's turkey,
and it has always been one of my theories that a nigger invariably
steals when he gets a chance. However, I wasn't going to give in at
that."

"Of course you weren't," said the Colonel. "Did you ever read about the
man who was told that the facts did not sustain his theory, and of his
sublime answer? 'Very well,' said he, 'so much the worse for the
facts!'"

"Come, Colonel, you talk too much. How am I ever to get on with my
narrative, if you keep interrupting me in this style? Be quiet."

"Word of command. Quiet. Quiet it is. Continue."

"No, I said, of course they expect some reward,--that's it."

"What an ass you must be!" broke in Whittlesly.

"Hadn't you sense enough to see they could keep the whole of it, and
nobody the wiser? and of course they couldn't have supposed any one was
coming after it,--could they?

"How am I to know what they thought? If you don't stop your comments,
I'll stop the story; take your choice."

"All right: go ahead."

"While I was considering the case, in came the master of the mansion,--a
thin, stooped, tired-looking little fellow,--'Sam,' he told us, was his
name; then proceeded to narrate how he had found the body, and knew the
uniform, and was kind and tender with it because of its dress, 'for you
see, sah, we darkies is all Union folks'; how he had brought it up in
the night, for fear of his Secesh master, and made a coffin for it, and
buried it decently.