Addison looked toward Tim. “What were you and the old crow saying?” “Aunty was having one of her jokes,” Tim said. Addison stuck out his lower lip and motioned with his head toward the other guard. “This fellow thinks I should inspect the stores.” Devil grinned. “Why don’t you do that, Corporal?” Addison, with a sour expression on his face, waddled after Tim to the Army kitchen. He poked his way through sacks of com meal and rice and boxes of crackers as Devil and Bell looked on from the yard. He shook a keg of vinegar and kicked the barrel that held the pork. “What’s in this?” “Dried meat or sorghum molasses, I think,” Tim said. “If you want me to pry off the top we can look.” “Never mind,” Addison said, dipping his grubby hand into a tin of salt and licking his fingers one by one. “I reckon nothing was smuggled in.” Devil stood in the doorway, fingering his pie-shaped Navy cap. “What did you expect to find?” Addison frowned darkly and rocked a little from side to side. “Knives or guns.” “Oh,” said Devil, smiling wickedly. CHAPTER ELEVEN The following Monday Addison’s shout rang down the hall and the prisoners began to stir. Tim slept in a second-tier bunk. He opened his eyes and pulled up his blanket to shield himself from the chilly air. This left his feet sticking out. He stared, as he had stared a hundred times before, at the rough-hewn rafters and the boards that formed the floor above. He threw off his blanket and sat on the edge of his bunk. One of his boots was lying on the end of the mattress. He reached for it and turned it over in his hands. As he looked he began to frown. If he had some money, he could send out his boots to have the soles and heels repaired. He’d noticed they leaked the last time he walked in the jailyard after a rain. Addison finished checking the beds and poked his head through the door. “Ready to go to the kitchen, Lieutenant?” Tim slid to the floor, found his other boot and pulled it on, balancing himself against the bunk. “Combed and manicured. Ready for another day.” “You seem right cheerful this morning, Lieutenant,” Addison said accusingly. “I like to cook. It makes me happy.” Red pulled his blanket away from his face and looked sleepily down from his bunk. Then he pulled the blanket up again. Dawson and Mills were dead to the world. When Tim stepped into the yard he could hear Devil singing chanteys in the Navy kitchen. Devil poked his head through the kitchen door and rubbed the bristles on his chin. “Good morning, Lieutenant.” Tim went into the Army kitchen and started a fire in the stove. He pulled his toothbrush out of his pocket and held it between his teeth while he drew a cup of water from the big tank. He moistened the toothbrush, sprinkled it lightly with salt and brushed his teeth. He drew his thumb across the bristles before putting the brush back into his pocket.