"Whah's Parson Dav'npoht?"
A light dawned upon the surgeon. He had never thought of Griffith as a clergyman only as he had heard it laughed over that the General swore so continuously in his presence. He sent for Griffith. When he came Lengthy saw that his eyes were red. He motioned the others to go away. Then he whispered, "Th' other fellers—our soldiers—th——"
"You mean the Confederate troops, the Southern men?" asked Griffith, and Lengthy nodded; "Jest over yander. Layin' fer ye."
"I looked everywhere for smoke, Lengthy. I didn't see any signs of camp fires. I——"
"Jest what me an' Whis was doin' fer t'other side when we seed ye. Hain't got no fires. Hain't goin't' make none."
"Do you mean that you were doing a sort of scout or advance duty for the reb—the Confederates, when you met us, Lengthy?"
He nodded. "Jest thet."
"You were to go back and tell them about——"
"We wus. Saw you. Didn't go. Him 'n me qua'l'd 'bout——"
"About shooting me?"