"'" I ain't so young as I looks," I argues; "I'm jest small of my
age."
"'" Now, I reckons that's so," says the reb, beamin' on me
approvin', "an' you're likewise mighty peart. But I'll tell you,
Bud, you ain't got no hoss."
"'"That's nothin'," I responds; "which if you-all will only get me a
gun, I can steal a hoss, that a-way, in the first mile."
"'Seein' me so ready with them argyments, an' so dead pertinacious
to go, this yere trooper begins to act oneasy, like his resolootion
gets shook some. At last he gridds his teeth together like his
mind's made up.
"'" Look yere, boy," he says, "do you know who our Gen'ral is?"
"'"No," I says, "I don't."
"'"Well," says the reb, as he shoves his feet deep in the stirrups,
an' settles in his saddle like he's goin' to make some time; "well,
he's a ragin' an' onfettered maverick, named Wheeler; an' from the
way he goes skallyhootin' 'round, he's goin' to get us all killed or
captured before ever we gets back, an' I don't want no chil'en on my
hands." "'With that this yere soldier yanks the bridle outen my
grasp, claps the steel into his hoss's flanks, an' leaves me like a
bullet from a gun. For my part, I stands thar saved; saved, as I
says, by that Gen'ral Wheeler's repootation with his men.
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