“I don’t doubt that it is a story.”
“Now, that isn’t kind of you, Somers, to be perpetually throwing discredit upon everything I say,” replied the captain, apparently much hurt.
“You mustn’t say such things, then. You don’t expect any man in his senses to believe that you walked over nine miles an hour, and followed it for seven hours?”
“I was tougher then than I am now.”
“And you can tell a tougher story now than you could then, I’ll warrant.”
“There it is again!”
“Now, my dear fellow, I’m afraid you will die with an enormous fib in your mouth.”
“Come, Somers, you are taking a mean advantage of my friendship. You know that I like you too well to quarrel with you.”
“Silence!” said Somers earnestly. “There is a boat coming out from the rebel side of the river.”
The water was covered with vessels of every description in the vicinity of Harrison’s Landing; and the boat had just emerged from this forest of masts and smokestacks. It was time to be entirely silent again; for the rebels were on the alert in every direction, watching to strike a blow at the grand army, or to pick up individual stragglers who might fall in their way. The boat which Somers had discovered was approaching from the rebel side of the river; and to be seen by the enemy, at this point of the proceedings, would be fatal to the expedition.