Before he had done speaking the guards had the storekeeper seated on a log, and were shearing his hair.
"General," shouted the Deacon.
"That's a Cap'n, you fool," said one of the guards.
"Captain, then," yelled the Deacon.
"Who is that man?" said the Captain severely.
"He's his partner," said the Lieutenant.
"Serve him the same way," said the Captain shortly, turning to go.
The Deacon's knees smote together. He, a Deacon of the Baptist Church, and a man of stainless repute at home, to have his head shaved and drummed out of camp. He would rather die at once. The guards had laid hands on him.
"Captain," he yelled again, "it's all a horrible mistake. I had nothin' to do with this man."
"Talk to the Lieutenant, there," said the Captain, moving off. "He will attend to you."