“Say, Lieutenant, just see me hit that muskrat,” said Sam, bringing his rifle to his shoulder to fire.
“Don’t fire,” I said; “let the poor creature live!” For I felt that where there was so much needful destruction, that innocent creatures should be protected.
In another moment, it was seen that it was a dog, as the little fellow came dripping and shaking his shaggy coat from the water. I whistled and Muddy, as was his habit when caught in mischief, came crouching with apologetic waggles at my feet. I tried to reassure him of my forgiveness, but he rolled over on his back with paws dangling imploringly. Then I took him in my arms, wet as he was, I was so glad to see him, and he snuggled down, whimpering.
When I had taken him to my quarters and fed him, I discovered that he was very hungry; for he ate as though starved, and then whimpered and barked and fawned upon me, as though to tell me that he had had a hard time, and was glad to get back to me. I left him asleep on my blanket and went to duty again, for he seemed too tired to go with me as usual.
Colonel Burbank knew that Muddy had been “lost and found,” and when later I called at his quarters, seemed pleased to see Muddy as well as myself.
While I was standing at attention, Muddy jumped to his lap snuggled down, and then I saw him fumble with Muddy’s collar and take from under it a small package of paper which he put in his pocket.
“This was something for me,” he coolly replied, to my look of astonishment, and then added:
“You are not to mention anything you see in my office.”
I did not know what to make of it all. Muddy must have been with Lieutenant Nickerson, for I knew that no one else could coax him away from me. But what about the message he had brought back?