“In my judgment that would be too severe a punishment.”
Up to this moment, save at the beginning of the conversation, Captain Murray had repressed his impatience with admirable self-control. But now it again got the better of him.
“Too severe!” he exclaimed. “Why, man! do you know that such an offense as his, in the regular army, in time of war, would be punishable with death?”
“I know. But we’re not in the regular army, and we’re not at war.”
“If I had my way about it,” was the captain’s reply, “we would be both in the federal service and at war. That slaughter on the other side will never stop until this nation goes in and stops it. The sooner we get about it the better.”
“I agree with you. But, as to Ben, I hope you will be lenient.”
“And I promise you that I will punish him to the full extent of my authority.”
The captain was resolute, so Hal had to let it go that way.
When he left the officer’s room he went up to the next floor to see Chick. The boy gazed at him with unrecognizing eyes. Whether he saw him at all or not is quite uncertain. But his shriveled and colorless lips were incessantly moving.
“He babbles night and day,” said Miss Anderson, “mostly about Company E and his duties at the armory. He boasts that he is now a regular member of the company. He says you got him in. You are his hero, Lieutenant McCormack. He never tired of talking about you when his mind was clear. Even now yours is the name most frequently on his lips.”
“Poor fellow!” replied Hal. “I am glad he has the satisfaction of believing that he has been admitted to membership in the company. It was almost his lifelong ambition to be a Guardsman.”
“Well, he is one now to all intents and purposes. He says he must make haste to get well in order that he may return to his duties. His great fear and concern seem to be that the soldiers will go across the sea to fight, and that on account of his illness he will be left behind. If he were to believe that such a thing had happened it would absolutely break his heart.”
Hal looked down on the gray face and unseeing eyes.
When he heard the sound of his own name issue feebly from the murmuring lips he bent his head to listen.
“Yes, he got me in,” said the boy. “These are my khakis. That’s my gun. I drill; I march--I’ll go with ’em across the sea--an’ fight. Yes, that’s my flag; the ‘red, white an’ blue.’” He paused for a moment and then continued: “Was that taps? Well, I’m ready--I’m tired.”