“They're officers, an' they're young, as you say,” said Whitley, “but they're good ones.”
“Them's the kind we eat alive, when we ain't got anything else to eat,” said the Mississippian, a very tall, sallow and youngish man. “We're never too strong on rations, and when I eat prisoners I like 'em under twenty the best. They ain't had time to get tough. I speak right now for that yellow-haired one in the middle.”
“You can't swallow me,” said Pennington, good naturedly. “I'll just turn myself crossways and stick in your throat.”
“What are you fellows after around here, anyway?” continued the Mississippian. “The weather's hot an' we all want to go in swimmin' to-morrow, bein' as we have two rivers handy. Shore as you live if you get to botherin' us we'll hurt you.”
“You won't hurt us,” said Dick, “because to-morrow we're going to surround you and drive you into a coop.”
“Drive us in a coop. See here, Yank, you're gettin' excited. Do you know how many men we have here waitin' for you? Of course you don't. Why, it's four hundred thousand, ain't it, Bill?”
“No, it's just two hundred thousand. I don't believe in lyin' fur effect, Jim.”
“I ain't lyin'. There's two hundred thousand men. Then there's Bobby Lee. That's a hundred thousand more, which makes three hundred thousand. Then there's Stonewall Jackson, who's another hundred thousand, which brings the figures up to exactly what I said, four hundred thousand. Now, ain't I right, Bill?”
“You shorely are, Jim. I was a fool for countin' the way I did. Will you overlook it this time?”
“Wa'al, I will this time, but be shore you don't do it ag'in. Now, see here, you Yanks: we like you well enough. You're friends of Bill, who is a friend of me. Just you take my advice an' go home. Start to-night while the weather is warm, an' the roads are good. If you're afraid of our chasin' you we'll give you a runnin' start of a hunderd miles.”