With the result that Captain James Dadd found himself promoted to the rank of brevet-major, and found himself incidentally the day’s hero of his corps. The latter honor he shared with his grandson, who, as Battle Jimmie, was enthusiastically adopted by the officers and men alike.
The two chums bore their laurels with a similar and schoolboy sheepishness, seeking to hide as much as possible from the noisy adulation that was their meed.
And now, in the thick of it all, came the summons from Hooker. As Dad stood in Fighting Joe’s presence once more he recalled keenly his first interview with the eccentric fire-eater, when, despite his error in failing to be captured, he had won the general’s approval and his own first commission.
This time he found Hooker dictating to a military secretary on the porch of a farmhouse. Hooker dismissed the secretary with a nod and turned to the waiting officer.
“Major Dadd,” he began abruptly, “General McClellan has asked me to thank you personally, in his name, for your share in the affair of last week. Which I herewith do. That ends my official business with you at the moment. But I would like to add a question or so on my own account—questions you are not bound to answer unless you choose.”
He hesitated, then went on:
“I am told that several of the officers of your corps planned a little supper in your honor a night or two ago to celebrate your promotion and its cause—also, that you refused to attend it.
“May I ask why you offered this slight to them?
“I repeat—you need not answer unless you wish to do so.”
“Slight?” Dad caught up the word. “I—I surely did not intend it so, sir. And I’m heartily sorry they took it as such. I made my refusal as courteous as I could. And—”