Other boys let him take their watches to tinker up, so as to make a show of running, and be available for trading to the guards.
One day Martin was at the creek, when a N'Yaarker asked him to let him look at a watch.

Martin incautiously did so, when the N'Yaarker snatched it and sped away to the camp of his crowd.

Martin ran back to us and told his story.

This was the last feather which was to break the camel's back of our patience.

Peter Bates, of the Third Michigan, the Sergeant of our squad, had considerable confidence in his muscular ability.
He flamed up into mighty wrath, and swore a sulphurous oath that we would get that watch back, whereupon about two hundred of us avowed our willingness to help reclaim it.
Each of us providing ourselves with a club, we started on our errand.
The rest of the camp--about four thousand--gathered on the hillside to watch us.