What did you want, Foster ?" The man addressed, a slim, awkward fellow, his spindle legs conspicuous under the short cavalry jacket, jerked off his cap in embarrassment.
"Why nuthin' much, sir," he stammered.

"I ain't no objections to goin' on with the fightin', only if we're so sartain to catch hell it don't seem exactly right fer us to keep that thar young gal here in the house.
She ain't no combatant, sir, an' dern me if I don't think she ought to be got outside first." "Girl! What girl ?" I cried, believing I must have misunderstood.

"What is it you are trying to say, man ?" The soldier jerked his thumb back over his shoulder.
"The one in thar behind the stairs," he explained slowly.

"Tom Ragan he made her go thar when the rumpus begun, an' then Tom he got killed.
Ain't that the way of it, Talbot ?" "Sure," chimed in the other.

"It is the same one that was in the parlor last night, sir.