They told Bob to draw up to the fire, and made quite a fuss over him. Bob had his wits about him and soon learned that a batch of prisoners were at a fire a hundred yards farther back. He therefore made his way over there, although he was advised to stay where he was and get dry, and had many offers of a bunk from his new friends, some of whom followed him over to where the prisoners were.
Most of the prisoners were quartered for the night in a hut before which a guard was stationed. One or two, however, sat around the camp-fire, chatting with their guards. Among these was a major in full uniform. Bob singled him out: he was just about his father's size.
Bob was instantly the centre of attraction. Again he told them he was from Holly Hill; again he was recognized by one of the men.
"Run away to join the army?" asked one.
"No," said Bob, his eyes flashing at the suggestion.
"Lost?"
"No."
"Mother whipped you?"
"No."
As soon as their curiosity had somewhat subsided, Bob, who had hardly been able to contain himself, said to the Confederate major in a low undertone: