"You fellers'll have to do the shootin'," whispered Shorty to Si. "It'll be a cold day when I bang $150 in greenbacks at any rebel that ever jumped. I'm goin' to take the cap off en my gun. The jostlin' o' the train's likely to knock it off at any time, and send a small fortune through the roof o' the car. I'd take the money out, but I'm afraid o' tearin' it all to pieces, with the train plungin' so." He carefully half-cocked his piece, took off the cap, rubbed the nipple to remove any stray fragments of fulminate, and then let the hammer down on a piece of wadding taken from his cap. The long ride to Nashville over the ground on which they had been campaigning and fighting for nearly a year would have been of deepest interest to Si and Shorty, as it was to the rest, if they could have freed their minds of responsibilities long enough to watch the scenery. But they would give only a cursory glance any say: "We'll look at it as we come back." In the crowded depot at Nashville they had an other panic, but the Provost-Guard kept a gangway clear as soon as it was discovered that they were on duty. "You can stack your arms there, boys," said the Sergeant of the Guard, "and go right over there and get a warm supper, with plenty of coffee." All but Shorty obeyed with alacrity, and stacked their guns with the quickness of old and hungry vet erans. Shorty kept hold of his gun and started with the rest to the supper-room. "Here, Injianny," called out the Sergeant, "stack your gun here with the rest." "Don't want to ain't goin' to," answered Shorty. "What's the reason you ain't?" asked the Sergeant, catching hold of the gun. "Nobody's going to take it, and if they did, you can pick up another. Plenty of 'em, jest as good as that, all around here." "Don't care. This is my own gun. I think more of it than any gun ever made, and I ain't goin' to take any chance of losin' it." "Well, then, you'll take a chance of losing your supper," answered the Sergeant, "or rather you'll be certain of it, for the orders are strict against taking guns into the supper-room. Too many accidents have happened." "Well, then," said Shorty stoutly, "I'll do without my supper, though I'm hungrier than a wolf at the end of a long Winter." "Well, if you're so infernal pig-headed, you've got to," answered the Sergeant, nettled at Shorty's obstinacy. "Go back beyond the gunstack, and stay there. Don't you come nearer the door than the other side of the stack."