“Aunty was having one of her jokes,” Tim said.
Addison stuck out his lower lip and motioned with his head toward the other guard. “This fellow thinks I should inspect the stores.”
Devil grinned. “Why don’t you do that, Corporal?”
Addison, with a sour expression on his face, waddled after Tim to the Army kitchen. He poked his way through sacks of com meal and rice and boxes of crackers as Devil and Bell looked on from the yard. He shook a keg of vinegar and kicked the barrel that held the pork. “What’s in this?”
“Dried meat or sorghum molasses, I think,” Tim said. “If you want me to pry off the top we can look.”
“Never mind,” Addison said, dipping his grubby hand into a tin of salt and licking his fingers one by one. “I reckon nothing was smuggled in.”
Devil stood in the doorway, fingering his pie-shaped Navy cap. “What did you expect to find?”
Addison frowned darkly and rocked a little from side to side. “Knives or guns.”
“Oh,” said Devil, smiling wickedly.