"What's the trouble?" inquired Noel quickly. "Are you afraid of me?"
"No, suh, I isn't 'fraid," grinned the negro. "Sho'ly not as long as I hab a frind lak dis wif me," he added as he drew from a pocket inside his coat a long narrow knife which was at least ten inches in length. "Dis yere," grinned Sam, "is one ob de bes' friends what I got."
"What is it?" inquired Noel, extending his hand as he spoke.
"No, suh. I don' let dis friend of mine eber go out ob my hands. Not eben fo' Gene'al Bu'nside."
"Where is General Burnside?" asked Noel.
"I reckon he isn't far 'way from Frederick City."
"Are you going to see him?" demanded the young soldier, suddenly inspired by a new thought.
"Well, suh, I cain't jes' say 'bout dat," replied Sam as he thrust his knife back into its receptacle. "I mought and then again I moughtn't."
"I believe you're going there," said Noel sharply.
"Dat's des' as may be," again responded Sam. "I mought and den I moughtn't. Now, we hab been talkin' here long er 'nuff. If we all is goin' toe get yo' toe Aunt Katie's we mus' be movin' along. I haven't much time to stay yere any longer."