puffing with pride, excitement, and a fine uniform of khaki, whom he had
met at Chickamauga; and Willings, the surgeon; and Chaffee, now a
brigadier; and Lawton, soon to command a division; and, finally, little
Jerry Carter, quiet, unassuming, dreamy, slight, old, but active, and
tough as hickory. The little general greeted Crittenden like a son.

"I was sorry not to see you again at Chickamauga, but I started here
next day. I have just written you that there was a place on my staff for
you or your brother--or for any son of your father and my friend. I'll
write to Washington for you to-night, and you can report for duty
whenever you please."

The little man made the astounding proposition as calmly as though he
were asking the Kentuckian to a lunch of bacon and hardtack, and
Crittenden flushed with gratitude and his heart leaped--his going was
sure now. Before he could stammer out his thanks, the general was gone.
Just then Rivers, who, to his great joy, had got at least that far, sat
down by him. He was much depressed. His regiment was going, but two
companies would be left behind. His colonel talked about sending him
back to Kentucky to bring down some horses, and he was afraid to go.

"To think of being in the army as long as I have been, just for this
fight. And to think of being left here in this hell-hole all summer, and
missing all the fun in Cuba, not to speak of the glory and the game. We
haven't had a war for so long that glory will come easy now, and anybody
who does anything will be promoted. But it's missing the fight--the
fight--that worries me," and Rivers shook his head from side to side
dejectedly. "If my company goes, I'm all right; but if it doesn't, there
is no chance for me if I go away. I shall lose my last chance of
slipping in somewhere. I swear I'd rather go as a private than not at