"Search away, then," said Prendergrast; "but be quick about it."
"All right, Com.," said the man. "We'll not disturb you more than we can help."
Entering the tent he looked it carefully over. I was on the opposite side from the searching party, and if ever a man shrank into small compass, I did then. I crept as close as I could to the huge mountain of flesh that overshadowed me. Even then I shook with laughter, for the Commodore fairly shuddered at feeling me, covered with dirt as I was, in close contact with his spotless undress uniform.
At last, with an apology, the Confederate left the tent. Nothing was said for about an hour, but Pendergrast was actually suffering. At last he whispered:
"Say!"
"Umph?" I responded.
"I've stood this as long as I can. I'm grit from head to foot."
"Never mind, Commodore. I dug that hole large for your especial benefit."
"Yes, I suppose so. But what has become of it?"