“I am more needed at Reseca,” he mused. “Thither will I shape my course. Ha! as I live Johnston is sending troops to that place. He has discovered Sherman’s ruse. I wonder if McPherson will fall into the trap. I—it is a risky undertaking, but I am in for it. I——”
“Helloa, Charley,” exclaimed some one breaking in upon his thoughts, “ain’t your regiment going to Reseca!”
The speaker had stepped from one of the tents near at hand.
“Hang it, yes,” growled Curt in a disguised tone, instantly adapting himself to the new situation. “And I’m in a deuced of a fix.”
“I thought the 20th was going. What’s the trouble?”
“My equipments are down to the barracks. I just stepped into Jackson’s mess. Let me take your gun. Quick or I shall be too late. The last call has sounded.”
“Well, here’s your shooter. Tell me how many Yanks you kill. I wish I was going. I’ve got——”
But Cavalry Curt stopped to hear no more.
Snatching the gun from the other’s hands he started on a run toward the troops.
“The 20th,” he panted of a corporal.