"What of that?"

"Why, there might be something to do over there, and if they accepted
our services--"

"What are you thinking of?" cried Bilsby. "Work at ballistics for the
benefit of foreigners!"

"Perhaps that would be better than not doing it at all," answered the
colonel.

"Doubtless," said J.T. Maston, "it would be better, but such an
expedient cannot be thought of."

"Why so?" asked the colonel.

"Because their ideas of advancement would be contrary to all our
American customs. Those folks seem to think that you cannot be a
general-in-chief without having served as second lieutenant, which comes
to the same as saying that no one can point a gun that has not cast one.
Now that is simply--"

"Absurd!" replied Tom Hunter, whittling the arms of his chair with his
bowie-knife; "and as things are so, there is nothing left for us but to
plant tobacco or distil whale-oil!"

"What!" shouted J.T. Maston, "shall we not employ these last years of
our existence in perfecting firearms? Will not a fresh opportunity
present itself to try the ranges of our projectiles? Will the atmosphere