Both
Warner and Pennington yawned prodigiously.
"If I've lost a day, and it would seem that I have, then I'm glad of it,"
replied Warner. "I could afford to lose several in such a pleasant
manner. I suppose a lot of Stonewall Jackson's men were shooting at me
while I slept, but I was lucky and didn't know about it."
"You talk too long," said Pennington. "That comes of your having taught
school. You could talk all day to boys younger than yourself, and they
were afraid to answer back."
"Shut up, both of you," said Dick. "Here comes the sergeant, and I think
from his look he has something to say worth hearing."
Sergeant Whitley had cleansed the blood and dust from his face, and a
handkerchief tied neatly around his head covered up the small wound
there. He looked trim and entirely restored, both mentally and
physically.
"Well, sergeant," said Dick ingratiatingly, "if any thing has happened
in this army you're sure to know of it. We'd have known it ourselves,
but we had an important engagement with Morpheus, a world away, and we
had to keep it.
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