The boys were immediately surrounded by their comrades, congratulating them, and requesting that they would take back letters and money for them. The Paymaster had recently visited the regiment, and everybody had money which he wished to send home. There were also commissions to purchase in numerable things, ranging from meerschaum pipes to fine flannel shirts. "Look here, boys," said Shorty, good-humoredly, "we want to be obligin', but we're neither a Adams Express Company nor in the gent's furnishin' line. We've neither an iron safe to carry money nor a pedler's wagon to deliver goods. John Morgan's guerrillas may jump us on the way home, and comin' back we'll have to have packs to carry the truck in, and half of it 'll be stole before we git to the regiment." But the comrades would not be dissuaded, and be fore Si and Shorty went to sleep they had between $5,000 and $6,000 of their comrades' money stowed in various safe places about their personages. "Great Jehosephat, Si," murmured Shorty, when they sat together in their tent, after the last comrade had departed, leaving his "wad of greenbacks," with directions as to its disposition, "I never felt so queer and skeery in all my life. I wouldn't for the world lose a dollar of the money these boys have been earnin' as they have this. But how under heaven are we goin' to make sure of it?" "I've thought of a way o' makin' sure of to-night," said Si. "I spoke to the Officer of the Guard, and he'll put a sentinel over us to-night, so's we kin git a little sleep. I wouldn't shet my eyes, if it wasn't for that. We'll have to let to-morrow take care of itself." Shorty lay down and tried to go to sleep, but the responsibility weighed too heavily on his mind. Presently, Si, who, for the same reason, only slept lightly, was awakened by his partner getting up. "What are you up to?" Si asked. "I've bin thinkin about pickpockets," answered Shorty. "They're an awful slick lot, and I've thought of a hiding place that'll fool 'em." He picked up his faithful Springfield, and drawing an envelope with money out of his shirt-pocket, rolled it up to fit the muzzle of his gun, and then rammed it down. "That's Jim Meddler's $10," he said. "I'll know it, because his mother's name's on the envelope. Here goes Pete Irvin's $20. I know it because it has his wife's name on it." He continued until he had the barrel of the gun filled, and then stopped to admire his cunning. "Now, nobody but me'd ever thought o' hidin' money in a gun. That's safe, as least. All I've got to do is to stick to my gun until we git acrost the Ohio River. But I hain't got the tenth part in; where kin I put the rest? O, there's my cartridge-box and cap-box. Nobody'll think o' lookin' there for money." He filled both those receptacles, but still had fully half his money left on his person.