the fury of his being would
rise up, until he would clench his fists in helpless wrath, as Wainwright
swaggered on. To think how easily he could drag him in the dust if it
only came to a fair fight between them! But Wainwright had all the
advantage now, with such a captain on his side!

That night ride was a terrible experience. Cameron, with his thoughts
surging and pounding through his brain, was in no condition to come out
of hardships fresh and fit. He was overcome with weariness when he
climbed into the box car with thirty-nine other fellows just as weary,
just as discouraged, just as homesick.

There was only room for about twenty to travel comfortably in that car,
but they cheerfully huddled together and took their turns sitting down,
and somewhere along in the night it came Cameron's turn to slide down on
the floor and stretch out for a while; or perhaps his utter weariness
made him drop there involuntarily, because he could no longer keep awake.
For a few minutes the delicious ache of lying flat enveloped him and
carried him away into unconsciousness with a lulling ecstasy. Then
suddenly Wainwright seemed to loom over him and demand that he rise and
let him lie down in his place. It seemed to Cameron that the lethargy
that had stolen over him as he fell asleep was like heavy bags of sand
tied to his hands and feet. He could not rise if he would. He thought he
tried to tell Wainwright that he was unfair. He was an officer and had
better accommodations. What need had he to come back here and steal a
weary private's sleep. But his lips refused to open and his throat gave
out no sound. Wainwright seemed gradually stooping nearer, nearer, with a
large soft hand about his throat, and his little pig eyes gleaming like
two points of green light, his selfish mouth all pursed up as it used to
be when the fellows stole his all-day sucker, and held it tantalizingly
above his reach. One of his large cushiony knees was upon Cameron's chest
now, and the breath was going from him. He gasped, and tried to shout to
the other fellows that this was the time to do away with this tyrant,
this captain's pet, but still only a croak would come from his lips. With
one mighty effort he wrenched his hands and feet into action, and lunged
up at the mighty bully above him, struggling, clutching wildly for his
throat, with but one thought in his dreaming brain, to kill--to kill!
Sound came to his throat at last, action to his sleeping body,