"'Good heavens! man, you don't call that stuff soup, do you?'
"'No, sir,' says the man. 'It's dish-water that we was a-hemptyin'.' That's the soldier all over again. He 'adn't sense enough to tell him beforehand."
"I don't see, sergeant, what that has to do with me," said Sam curtly.
"Well, sir, perhaps it hasn't. But I only wanted to say that I ain't that kind of a man. I sees and thinks for myself. Now I 'ear that they've got a letter captured from Gomaldo askin' General Baluna for reenforcements, and that they've got some letters from Baluna too, and know his handwritin'. I only wanted to say that I used to be a writin'-master and that I can copy any writin' goin' or any signature either, so you can't tell them apart. Now why couldn't we forge an answer from Baluna to Gomaldo and send the first reenforcements ourselves? He wants a 'undred men at a time. And then we could capture Gomaldo as easy as can be. We could find him in the mountains. I know a lot of these natives 'ere who would go with us if we paid them well."
"We should have to dress them up in the native uniform," said Sam. "I don't know whether that would be quite honorable."
The sergeant smiled knowingly, but said nothing.
"Do you think we could get native officers to do such a thing?" Sam asked.
"Oh, yes! Plenty of them. I know one or two. At first they wouldn't like it. But give them money enough and commissions in our army, and they'd do it."
"How different they are from us!" mused Sam. "Nobody in our army, officer or man, could ever be approached in that way."
"It seems to me I've read somewhere of one of our principal generals—Maledict Donald, wasn't it?"