In a few moments the conference broke up; then Captain Hughes raised his voice sharply.
“A man who is careless about himself is not likely to look after his men, and that is an officer’s first duty. You set a bad example to the members of your squad, Mr. Wheeler.”
Wheeler saluted and the captain turned away just as Kennedy came forward. The corporal gripped Kennedy’s wrist and held him fast, then led him in silence back to his place.
“That’s all right,” he whispered in Kennedy’s ear. “Don’t you butt in. You’d only get it in the neck if you did.”
Kennedy, believing that a soldier’s first duty is to obey, did not persist; he saw the captain leave the shelter and join a group of officers on the bank.
“It isn’t fair, though, for you to take the blame,” he began.
“It’s of no importance,” Wheeler answered.
A few moments later Kennedy was convinced that the corporal was mistaken. While Wheeler was talking to another member of the squad, Morrison said to Kennedy in a low voice:
“I guess Wheeler’s chance for promotion is gone now. They’re going to make some new sergeants tomorrow, and I thought Wheeler would surely be one; but I guess that forgetting his poncho has queered him with the captain. He’s a stickler about little things.”
“It doesn’t seem fair,” repeated Kennedy, as if speaking to himself.
Night had settled down, the blackest kind of night, when the first platoon was ordered into the advance trenches. From ambush among the trees behind the shelter searchlights began to play against the woods five hundred yards away, out of which the attack was expected to come. The watchers in the shelter and the trenches remained in utter darkness while the streaming lines of rain and the distant trees emerged into view under the sweeping rays. Back and forth the searchlights plied, raking the whole sector of forest that bounded the field. The men in the shelter, who had stood up to see what the searchlights might disclose, soon sat down again and wrapped their ponchos about themselves more snugly. The minutes passed; there was no sound except that made by the determined, trampling rain.
Wheeler, who had been peering over the top of the embankment, came and seated himself between Kennedy and Morrison.