Adams turned on his side and watched him.
"Got it bad," he said shortly. Then he lay once more on his back and spread out his arms. "God, but I'm sick of it! And if Lee's gone into Pennsylvania, and we're to chase him, and old Joe's put out, the Lord knows what'll become of us. I bet you a pipeful of tobacco, there ain't one of us left by this time next week. I bet you—"
The man with the bandaged face did not answer. Then Adams saw that Parsons had come back and was staring at him.
"Ain't Hooker in command no more?" he asked.
"No; Meade."
"And we're going to Pennsylvania?"
"Guess so." Adams sat upright, the expression of kindly commiseration on his face changed to one of disgust. "Brace up, boy. What's the matter with you?"
Parsons sat down beside him. His face was gray; his blue eyes, looking out from under his little forage-cap, closed as though he were swooning.
"I CAN'T STAND IT," HE SAID THICKLY