‘No, sir,’ replied the corporal. ‘I was busy attending to his wound and bringing him here.’
‘Search him, then.’
The corporal searched Ephraim literally down to his skin, and to the surprise of no one more than the Grizzly himself, discovered nothing.
‘They must hev dropped out while the row war goin’ on,’ thought Ephraim; for it never crossed his mind that by an accidental exchange of belts the papers had come into Luce’s hands. Had he suspected this, he would have felt miserable indeed.
‘What have you done with that despatch, you fellow? What is your name?’ asked the provost-marshal angrily.
‘Ephraim Sykes,’ answered the Grizzly, paying no attention to the more important question.
‘Psha! Where is the despatch?—Well, do you not intend to answer?’ For still Ephraim held his peace.
‘I told ye the truth jest now,’ said Ephraim at last. ‘I war tryin’ ter git out er your lines, whar I come without any wish er my own. I hevn’t got any despatch, ez ye kin see.’
‘What have you done with it, then?’ inquired the provost-marshal impatiently.
‘I hevn’t said I ever had it,’ answered Ephraim, anxious to gain time. ‘Ef ye air so ready ter accuse me, ye’d better start in and prove me guilty. I’m not supposed ter do it fer ye, I reckon.’