A wordy war ensued, but the first-comer was stalwart and determined. The row waked up Shorty, who appeared with an ax.
"All right," said one of the men, looking at the ax; "keep your durned old milk, if you're so stingy toward hungry soldiers. It'll give you milk-sick, anyway. There's lots o' milk-sick 'round here. All the cows have it. That cow has it bad. I kin tell by her looks. We had lots o' milk-sick in our neighborhood, and I got real well-acquainted with it. I kin tell a milk-sick cow as fur as I kin see her, and if that cow hasn't it, no one ever had it."
He made a furtive attempt to kick the bucket over, which was frustrated by the Deacon's watchfulness.
"Better do something with that cow right off," advised the first-comer, as he walked off. "You can't keep her in camp all day. Somebody'll git her away from you if they have to take her by main force."
"Are you willin' to risk the milk-sick?" asked the Deacon, handing Shorty a cupful of the milk, together with a piece of cornpone.
"Yum—yum, I should say so," mumbled that longlegged gentleman. "I'll make the milk sicker'in it kin me, you bet. Jest bring along all the milk-sick you've got on hand, and I'll keep it from hurtin' anybody else. That's the kind of a philanthropist I am."
"I see you've got a cow here," said a large man wearing a dingy blue coat with a Captain's faded shoulder-straps. "I'm a Commissary, and it's my duty to take her."
He walked over and in a businesslike way began unfastening the rope. The Deacon shuddered, for he had too much respect for shoulder-straps to think of resisting. Shorty looked up from his breakfast, scanned the newcomer, and said:
"Look here. Bill Wiggins, you go back and take off that Captain's coat as quick as you kin, or I'll have you arrested for playin' officer. None o' you Maumee Muskrats kin play that little game on the 200th Injianny. We know you too well. And let me advise you, Mr. Wiggins, the next time you go out masqueradin' to make up clean through. That private's cap and pantaloons burned around the back, and them Government cow-hides give you dead away, if your mug didn't. If they wuz givin' commissions away you wouldn't be a brevet Corporal. Skip out, now, for here comes the Provost-Guard, and you'd better not let him catch you wearin' an officer's coat unless you want to put in some extra time on the breastworks."
Mr. Wiggins made off at once, but he had scarcely gotten out of sight when a mounted officer, attracted by the strange sight of a cow in camp, rode up and inquired whence she came and to whom she belonged.