d be the sick in camp; surely they could not
join this rushing company and he would remain with them until the
Colonel remembered him.

Back toward camp he sped, keeping within the tangle of bushes and out of
sight of the oncoming men; pushing and tumbling, he made his way as fast
as his uniformed legs would carry him.

When he reached camp, panting and heated, he found a scene of great
excitement; and as far as he could judge, the men, both sick and well,
were all there! The Ninth, at least, had not gone over the hill-top!

"What's goin' ter happen?" G. W. gasped.

A boyish soldier who was writing a letter home looked up and answered,

"War, G. W.! that's what's going to happen, and mighty quick, too."

"And is us all goin' to de war?" G. W. sat down beside the soldier;
indeed, his legs could hold him up no longer.

"There are no orders yet, but I reckon we'll get our chance. Two more
transports are in, and a lot of guns."

"I saw dem," said G. W., thrilling again. "Miles ob dem an' millions of
men! Lawd, Corporal!" Then, after a pause, and very softly, he said,
"Say, Corporal Jack, if--if my Colonel don't send orders back fur me to
come ter him, an' if youse all get orders ter go on, will yer jes' fur
my sake try ter find de Colonel an' tell him a message? Jes' tell him
not ter fret 'bout me, cos I'se goin' ter remember de hill!" G. W. had
never humiliated himself by allowing any one to suppose he cared to go
beyond the hill-top. "An' jes' tell him I'll take care ob de picture!"

There were tears rolling down G. W.'s upturned face. Corporal Jack laid
down his pen and pad. "Well!" he cried, "you're a brick, G. W. But the
Colonel is not going to forget you, G. W. Brace up and hold on. And just
give us your hand, comrade!"

The two clasped hands gravely; then Corporal Jack went on with his
letter, and G. W. passed into Colonel Austin's tent, to have all things
ready in case there came an order to march.

Late that night, as G. W. lay upon his camp-bed (for he had been
promoted from the humble mattress) in the dismantled tent, Colonel
Austin entered. He was very weary, very pale. The boy upon the bed
watched him silently. The moonlight was streaming in the opening, and
the tall figure was distinctly outlined as the Colonel paused within the
doorway and glanced about the bare, disordered place. All at once he
seemed to understand; a smile flitted across his worn face. He went over
to the soapbox table, shorn of