"Lieutenant Grant. He said you were to find me something to eat."
"Where am dat Lieutenant Grant?"
"Over there. He was there, but he's gone now." For Lieutenant Grant had disappeared.
"Done issued me ohders, did he? I don't belong to no second lieutenant. I belong to Lieutenant Smith. He fust lieutenant. If he say to feed white trash, I got to feed 'em, but I ain't takin' ohders from no second lieutenant."
"I'll go back and tell him," Jerry proffered. "There he is." Lieutenant Grant was in sight, talking with another officer. Once he glanced toward the tent; and his glance could be felt.
The darky hastily sprang up.
"Reckon I'll find you sumpin. Yes, suh; when anybody's jined the ahmy he's got to 'bey his s'perior offercers. Come along, white boy. Where you from, anyhow?"
"Vera Cruz."
"You from Very Cruz? What you do dar?"
"Worked for my keep. Last night I ran away."
"You an American boy?"
"Yes, of course."
"Hi yi!" Pompey chuckled "'Spec' Very Cruz ain't a place to lib in, dese days. Hi yi! Guess when dose big bombs come a-sailin' dey say: 'Where dose Mexicans? Where dose Mexicans? Here dey be, here dey be—Boom! Now where dey be?' Yes, suh, white folks better get out. Bombs cain't take time to 'stinguish color. Gin'ral Scott, he in berry big hurry to march on to City ob Mexico. Gwine to spend Fo'th ob Jooly in Halls ob Montyzoomy,
