"Get your pail."

Tom got his pail, and was immediately joined by Fred and Ben, each of whom was also supplied with a pail. There was no water to be had within the camp ground, and the men were obliged to bring it in pails from the hydrants in the street. A pail, therefore, was quite as good as a written doc.u.ment to enable them to pa.s.s the guard.

The party thus provided had no difficulty in pa.s.sing the sentinels. At a convenient place outside the line, they concealed the pails, and, for three hours, roamed at will over the city.

"Now, Tom, you wanted to see the congressmen?" said Ben, after they had "done" the city pretty thoroughly.

"Yes, but I have seen them at the Capitol."

"But don't you want to get nearer to them, and hear them talk?"

"Well, I should like to."

"Come with us, then."

Ben led the way down the avenue, and entered a building not far from the railroad station. After pa.s.sing through a long, narrow entry, they ascended a flight of stairs, at the head of which the conductor gave two raps. The door was opened by a negro, and they were invited to enter. At a table in the middle of the room was seated a foppish-looking man who held in his hand a silver box. As he turned it, Tom saw that it contained a pack of cards.

"Where are your congressmen?" asked the soldier boy, whose eyes had been opened by the appearance of the cards.

"They will be here pretty soon," replied Ben.

The foppish man looked at his watch, and declared they would come in the course of five or ten minutes. He then took the cards out of the box, and, after shuffling them, returned them to their place. Fred placed a "quarter" on the table; the gambler put another by its side, and drew out a card from the silver case. Tom did not understand the game; but his companion put the quarters in his pocket.

"See that, Tom!" said he. "Got any money?"

"If I have I shall keep it."

"Put down a quarter, and make another."

"No, sir! I'm no gambler!" replied Tom, with emphasis.

"Quite respectable, I a.s.sure you," added the blackleg at the table.

"I'm going," said Tom, decidedly.

"Baby!" sneered Ben. "Afraid to play!"

"I _won't_ play! I'm going."

The negro opened the door, and he pa.s.sed out. Contrary to his expectation, he was followed by Fred and Ben.

"Baby is afraid of cards!" sneered Ben, as they pa.s.sed through the long entry.

"Afraid of cards, but not afraid of you," replied Tom, as he planted a heavy blow between the eyes of his companion.

Ben Lethbridge returned the blow, and it cost him another, and there was a prospect of quite a lively skirmish in the entry; but Fred Pemberton interposed his good offices, and effected a compromise, which, like most of the political compromises, was only the postponement of the conflict.

"I told you not to call me 'baby,' again," said Tom, as they pa.s.sed out of the building. "I will convince you before I am done that I'm not a baby."

Ben found it convenient to offer no reply to this plain statement of facts, and the three soldiers made their way back to the camp, and, having obtained their pails and filled them with water at the hydrants, they pa.s.sed the guard without a question.

CHAPTER XII.

ON TO RICHMOND.

It so happened that Ben Lethbridge, probably satisfied that it was not the fist of a baby which had partially blackened both of his eyes, and produced a heavy pain under his left ear, did not demand the satisfaction which was needed to heal his wounded honor. The matter was duly discussed in the tent of Tom's mess; but our soldier boy, while he professed to be entirely satisfied, was willing to meet Ben at such time and place as he desired, and finish up the affair.

The other party was magnanimous, and declared that he too was satisfied; and old Hapgood thought they had better proceed no further with the affair, for both of them might be arrested for disorderly conduct.

"I am satisfied, Ben; but if you ever call me a baby or a calf again, it will all have to be settled over again," said Tom, as he laid aside his musket, which he had been cleaning during the conversation.

"I don't want to quarrel with you, Tom," replied Ben, "but I wish you would be a little more like the rest of the fellows."

"What do you mean by that? I am like the rest of the fellows."

"You wouldn't play cards."

"Yes, I will play cards, but I won't gamble; and there isn't many fellows in the company that will."

"That's so," added Hapgood. "I know all about that business. When I went to Mexico, I lost my money as fast as I got it, playing cards. Don't gamble, boys."

"I won't, for one," said Tom, with emphasis.

"Are you going to set up for a soldier-saint, too?" sneered Ben, turning to the old man.

"I'm no saint, but I've larned better than to gamble."

"I think you'd better stop drinking too," added Ben.

"Come, Ben, you are meaner than dirt," said Tom, indignantly.

Old Hapgood was a confirmed toper. The people in Pinchbrook said he was a good man, but, they used to add, with a shrug of the shoulders, "pity he drinks." It was a sad pity, but he seemed to have no power over his appet.i.te. The allusion of Ben to his besetting sin was cruel and mortifying, for the old man had certainly tried to reform, and since the regiment left Boston, he had not tasted the intoxicating cup. He had declared before the mess that he had stopped drinking; so his resolution was known to all his companions, though none of them had much confidence in his ability to carry it out.

"I didn't speak to you, Tom Somers," said Ben, sharply.

"You said a mean thing in my presence."

"By and by we shall be having a prayer meeting in our tent every night."

"If you are invited I hope you will come," added Tom, "for if prayers will do any body any good, they won't hurt you."

"If you will take care of yourself, and let me alone, it's all I ask of you."

"I'm agreed."