Whenever the Major showed any inclination to look behind him, I would become emphatic in my expressions and gesticulations, and look so earnestly at him that I kept his attention riveted upon me. While I was talking, the portmanteau was opened, and a beautiful silver-mounted ten-shooting revolver taken out and carried off.
When I had finished, the crowd dispersed, and the Major prepared to leave. In doing so, he discovered that his revolver was gone. He told me about it and described the revolver, and said that it must have been taken while I had been talking with him.
He went to Brigadier-General Force, commanding the brigade, and complained that, while he was resting, somebody stole his revolver.
The General immediately issued an order requiring all the company commanders in the brigade to search the men of their commands at once for the revolver, but it was without success.
The Major told the General that one of the men standing by was called by the name of Bunker; consequently, I was sent for.
"Do you know who got this man's revolver?" inquired the General of me, as I went in.
"No, sir. I did not see his revolver, and did not know that he had one until he told me that some one had stolen it."
"Do you know what regiment the man belonged to that took it?"
"No, sir, I do not! But I did think that the Major was asking very improper questions for a paroled prisoner to ask, and I expected, while I was talking to him, that the boys would take horse and all, and I think he may feel thankful if he hasn't lost any thing but his revolver!"
"That will do!" said the General; "you can go to your quarters. Major, I don't see as I can do anything for you!"