"I shouldn't wonder," Lieutenant Grant smiled. "How are you at foraging?"
"I don't know. I'll try."
"Pompey'll teach you. He'll take eggs from a setting hen. If Lieutenant Smith turns up and asks who you are, you tell him you're attached to the Fourth Infantry as chief forager for Lieutenant U. S. Grant."
"Sha'n't you need me any more to-day?" Jerry asked.
"No. You can report in the morning. You may sleep in my bunk to-night unless I'm there first That will keep the fleas from getting too hungry."
"I'd like to find the Eighth Infantry and tell Hannibal Moss I'm in the army."
"Go ahead."
Lieutenant Grant hurried on. He mounted a horse and galloped for the beach. Jerry went seeking the Eighth Infantry.
The sun was much lower in the west. The bombardment had dwindled. It was said that ammunition for the mortars and other guns had run short until more could be landed through the heavy surf from the ships. The firing of the naval battery guns had ceased entirely
By the time that Jerry had found the Eighth Infantry the sun was setting and throughout the camp the company cooks were preparing supper. A detachment of sailors marched up from the beach, at their rolling gait, to relieve the crews in the battery. They were given a cheer.
"Hello, there!"
It was Hannibal, again. He stood up and beckoned. Jerry gladly went over to him.
