"I ain't doin' nothing o' the kind. What's the sense o' your sayin' sich a thing?" Si retorted. "You know it ain't true."
"Si Klegg, be careful how you call me a liar," answered the Orderly. "I'll—"
"What in the world does all this mean?" said Capt. McGillicuddy angrily, as he stepped back to them. "What are you wasting time squabbling before the men for? Fall into your places at once, and don't let me hear another word from any of you. Don't you see the regiment is moving?"
"We'll finish this later," the Orderly whispered to Si, as he went to his place on the right.
"I'll settle with you, Shorty, when I have more time," Si remarked as he took his place.
"The sooner the better," grunted Shorty. "You can't run over me, if you are a Sergeant."
The wearied men went stumbling along the rough road for what seemed the longest mile ever known. It had grown very dark. At last a form separated itself from the bank of blackness on the left, and a voice said in a penetrating whisper:
"Is this the 200th Ind?"
"Yes," answered the Colonel.
"I'm Lieut. Snowden, of the General's staff," said the whisper.