“Your revolver?”
“Here it is,” said Justin, drawing it forth and delivering it up.
“Your watch?”
“I never before heard that watches were arms,” said Justin, as he passed over his costly chronometer.
“Now your pocket book.”
Justin smiled as he answered:
“If it were not that I know you are backed up by a thousand precedents of your comrades, I should wonder that you, calling yourselves soldiers, should stoop to rob a wounded prisoner.”
“Hold your noise, you blamed Yankee, and do as you’re bid, or it will be the worse for you.”
“I have no pocket book with me,” answered Justin, calmly; “I left it at head quarters.”
“Oh! expected to be whipped, did you, and so made sure of the money by leaving it behind. Just like your Yankee cunning.—Come, raise him up, some of you boys, and see if he can stand upon his legs,” said the leader, speaking to his men.