The Volunteers were passing a wooden leg around; said that it was Santa Anna's leg—
"No! His leg is cork."
"Well, this may be his reserve leg, mayn't it? Next time we'll capture the cork leg and then he can't run so fast."
And a group of other Volunteers were having a rough and tumble over something upon the ground.
It was a chest, burst open; a chest of Mexican money for the expenses of Santa Anna's army. The military chest, that is. The soldiers were grabbing at the money; officers were trying to separate them. Suddenly all stood aside and saluted, for General Scott was towering above, upon his horse.
"Let the boys have what is on the ground, officers," he said. "They've fought and worked all day and deserve what they get. The remainder will be placed in charge of the chief quartermaster."
Pompey (Jerry had forgotten Pompey) arose from the bottom of the heap, his black fists crammed with bills. He certainly had arrived here very quickly; no doubt had come in one of the wagons sent forward to receive wounded.
"Yes, suh. Sojerin' is powerful hahd work fo' mighty little pay," he pronounced. "We-all near captured Santy Annie. We done made him pore; he's gwine to beg his victuals, that's shuah." Pompey saw Jerry and grinned. "Howdy, boy. Where you been?"
"Climbing Telegraph Hill with the troops."
"Huh!" Pompey grunted. "Wha' fo' you go to all dat work? I come 'round by the road an' ketch
