CHAPTER IV
But the capture of several wagon-loads of commissary whiskey, and the destruction of two tons of stationery intended for the general commanding, which interfered with his regular correspondence with the War Department, at last awakened the United States military authorities to active exertion. A quantity of troops were massed before the Pigeon Feet encampment, and an attack was hourly imminent.
“Shine your boots, sir?”
It was the voice of a youth in humble attire, standing before the flap of the commanding general’s tent.
The general raised his head from his correspondence.
“Ah,” he said, looking down on the humble boy, “I see; I shall write that the appliances of civilization move steadily forward with the army. Yes,” he added, “you may shine my military boots. You understand, however, that to get your pay you must first”—
“Make a requisition on the commissary-general, have it certified to by the quartermaster, countersigned by the post-adjutant, and submitted by you to the War Department”—
“And charged as stationery” added the general gently. “You are, I see, an intelligent and thoughtful boy. I trust you neither use whiskey, tobacco, nor are ever profane?”
“I promised my sainted mother”—
“Enough! Go on with your blacking; I have to lead the attack on the Pigeon Feet at eight precisely. It is now half past seven” said the general, consulting a large kitchen clock that stood in the corner of his tent.