"
"I don't blame the President for being disturbed," said Dick. "After all
the army is to serve the nation and fights under the supreme civilian
authority. The armies don't govern."
"That's so, but there come times when the general who has to do the
fighting can judge best how it ought to be done."
Dick lay down on one blanket and put another over him. It was well into
May, which meant hot weather in Mississippi, but, if he could, he always
protected himself at night. He was not a vain lad, but he felt proud
over his success. Hertford's six hundred horse were a welcome addition
to any army.
He lay back soon with a knapsack as a pillow under his head and listened
to the noises of the camp, blended now into a rather musical note.
Several cooking fires still burned here and there and figures passed
before them. Dick observed them sleepily, taking no particular note,
until one, small and weazened, came. The figure was about fifty yards
away, and there was a Union cap instead of a great flap-brimmed hat on
the head, but Dick sprang to his feet at once, snatched a pistol from his
belt and rushed toward it.
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