"Fremont was a little difficult to get at, General," said Mr. Brinsmade.
"Things were confused and discouraged when those first contracts were
awarded. Fremont was a good man, and it wasn't his fault that the
inexperience of his quartermasters permitted some of those men to get
rich."

"No," said the General. "His fault! Certainly not. Good man! To be sure
he was--didn't get along with Blair. These court-martials you're having
here now have stirred up the whole country. I guess we'll hear now how
those fortunes were made. To listen to those witnesses lie about each
other on the stand is better than the theatre."

Stephen laughed at the comical and vivid manner in which the General set
this matter forth. He himself had been present one day of the sittings of
the court-martial when one of the witnesses on the prices of mules was
that same seedy man with the straw-colored mustache who had bid for
Virginia's piano against the Judge.

"Come, Stephen," said the General, abruptly, "run and snatch one of those
pretty girls from my officers. They're having more than their share."

"They deserve more, sir," answered Stephen. Whereupon the General laid
his hand impulsively on the young man's shoulder, divining what Stephen
did not say.

"Nonsense!" said be; "you are doing the work in this war, not we. We do
the damage--you repair it. If it were not for Mr. Brinsmade and you
gentlemen who help him, where would our Western armies be? Don't you go
to the front yet a while, young man. We need the best we have in
reserve." He glanced critically at Stephen. "You've had military training