“I don’t believe that this army can wait until you learn to drum. We’re liable to be busy from now on. Where did you come from? Where are your folks?”
“Haven’t any. I’ve been in the naval battery.”
“You have! Belong to the navy, do you?”
“No, sir. I don’t seem to belong anywhere. I ran away from Vera Cruz last night. I’m an American.”
“So I see. Well, how do you like the naval battery?”
“It’s pretty lively,” said Jerry, shaking his head. “They didn’t want me, there, so I came back to the army.”
“You’d better go on to the rear; go down to the beach, and some of those camp followers will take care of you.”
“Are they a part of the army?”
“Not exactly,” the officer grimly answered. “Their duty seems to lie in raking in the army’s money as fast as they can bamboozle us. Still, the laundresses are rather necessary. I’ll speak to some laundress about you, when I have opportunity. Are you willing to scrub clothes in a tub?”
“No,” Jerry declared honestly. “I think I’d rather join the army and help fight. Are you a general?”