"Yes, and a devil with his fist," growled a sullen-looking fellow.
"Just so,"—assented Jim,—"when a blackguard's round to feel it."
"Well, Given, do you like the darkies well enough to take off your cap to them?" queried a sergeant standing near.
"What are you driving at now, hey?"
"O, not much; but you'll have to play second fiddle to them to-night. The General thinks they're as good as the rest of us, and a little bit better, and has sent over for the Fifty-fourth to lead the charge this evening. What have you got to say to that?"
"Bull, for them! that's what I've got to say. Any objection?" looking round him.
"Nary objec!" "They deserve it!" "They fought like tigers over on James Island!" "I hope they'll pepper the rebs well!"—"It ought to be a free fight, and no quarter, with them!" "Yes, for they get none if they're taken!" "Go in, Fifty-fourth!" These and the like exclamations broke from the men on all sides, with absolute heartiness and good will.
"It seems to me," sneered a dapper little officer who had been looking and listening, "that the niggers have plenty of advocates here."
Two or three of the men looked at Jim. "You may bet your pile on that, Major!" said he, with becoming gravity; "we love our friends, and we hate our enemies, and it's the dark-complected fellows that are the first down this way."
"Pretty-looking set of friends!"