nding at his elbow. "Who was that, sir? Looks like a real
tough one."

"He is a real tough one," Joe said sourly. "That's Stonewall Cogswell,
the best field commander in North America."

Max pursed his lips. "I never seen him out of uniform before. Lots of
times on Telly, but never out of uniform. I thought he was taller than
that."

"He fights with his brains," Joe said, still looking after the craggy
field marshal. "He doesn't have to be any taller."

Max scowled. "Where'd he ever get that nickname, sir?"

"Stonewall?" Joe was turning to resume his chair and magazine. "He's
supposed to be a student of a top general back in the American Civil
War. Uses some of the original Stonewall's tactics."

Max was out of his depth. "American Civil War? Was that much of a
fracas, captain? It musta been before my time."

"It was quite a fracas," Joe said dryly. "Lot of good lads died. A
hundred years after it was fought, the _reasons_ it was fought seemed
about as valid as those we fight fracases for today. Personally I--"

He had to cut it short. They were calling him on the address system. His
aircraft was ready. Joe made his way to the hangars, followed by Max
Mainz. He was going to pilot the airplane himself and old Stonewall
Cogswell would have been surprised at what Joe Mauser was looking for.

V

By the time they had returned to quarters, there was a message waiting
for Captain Mauser. He was to report to the officer commanding
reconnaissance.

Joe redressed in the Haer kilts and proceeded to headquarters.

The officer commanding reconnaissance turned out to be none other than
Balt Haer, natty as ever, and, as ever, arrogantly tapping his swagger
stick against his leg.

"Zen! Captain," he complained. "Where have you been? Off on a trank
kick? We've got to get organized."

Joe Mauser snapped him a salute. "No, sir. I rented an aircraft to scout
out the terrain over which we'll be fighting."

"Indeed. And what were your impressions, captain?" There was an overtone
which suggested that it made little difference what impressions a
captain of cavalry might have gained.

Joe shrugged. "Largely mountains, hills, woods. Good reconnaissance is
going to make the difference in this one. And in the fracas itself
cavalry is going to be more important than either artillery or infantry.
A Nathan Forrest fracas, sir. A matter of getting there fustest with the
mostest."

Balt Haer said amusedly. "Thanks for your