"That explains it, thin," said Dennis confidently. "That explains it all. For fifty dollars that Levi would sell his mother and his whole family."
"Fifty dollars is a good deal of money, Dennis."
"So it is. So it is," acknowledged the young Irish soldier, "but it's a lot more than Levi is worth."
"How much more?"
"Just fifty dollars, to a cint."
The attempt to speak lightly of their troubles, however, was almost pathetic. Both boys were exceedingly anxious and their feelings were not relieved by the manifestly increasing fears of their companions.
It was now early in the afternoon and the guard as yet had not come with their food. Noel had decided that he would await the coming of this man and beg him to obtain permission for him to see the colonel. The boy felt that, if only he could be admitted to the presence of that officer, he would be able to state some things which would lead to the prompt release both of himself and his companion.
There was a long interval, however, before a soldier came to bring their dinner, if hard-tack and water could be dignified by such a term. Neither Dennis nor Noel ate of the food thus provided. Not only were their appetites gone, but their anger had increased as they thought of the way in which they were being treated after their difficult and perilous services all through the campaign on the Peninsula.
The feeling of Dennis frequently found voice in his expressions of anger and disgust. Noel, however, was more controlled in his manner and seldom spoke except in reply to the questions of his comrade.
Noel eagerly had begged the soldier who had brought their dinner to report to the colonel that one of the men was innocent and most earnestly begged permission to explain to him how he had been falsely accused.