"You're right, that's the only thing," agreed the man in blue; then his
keen gray eyes were on Dan's face.
"Have you got a wife?" he asked bluntly.
Dan shook his head as he stared gravely at the embers.
"A sweetheart, I guess? I never met a Johnnie who didn't have a
sweetheart."
"Yes, I've a sweetheart--God bless her!"
"Well, you take my advice and go home and tell her to cure you, now she's
got the chance. I like your face, young man, but if I ever saw a
half-starved and sickly one, it is yours. Why, I shouldn't have thought you
had the strength to raise your rifle."
"Oh, it doesn't take much strength for that; and besides the coffee did me
good, I was only hungry."
"Hungry, hump!" grunted the Union soldier. "It takes more than hunger to
give a man that blue look about the lips; it takes downright starvation."
He dived into his haversack and drew out a quinine pill and a little bottle
of whiskey.
"If you'll just chuck this down it won't do you any harm," he went on, "and
if I were you, I'd find a shelter before I went to sleep to-night; you
can't trust April weather. Get into that cow shed over there or under a
wagon."
Dan swallowed the quinine and the whiskey, and as the strong spirit fired
his veins, the utter hopelessness of his outlook muffled him into silence.
Dropping his head into his open palms, he sat dully staring at the
whitening ashes.
After a moment the man in blue rose to his feet and fastened his haversack.
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