“Beg your pardon, general,” he blurted. “But do I understand that the officer of the day remains with the wagon-train?”
“Yes, captain.”
“But, general! I’m officer of the day!”
“I did not think of it at the time, Hamilton,” replied the general, frankly. “I simply gave the instructions, and I’m afraid they must be followed.”
“General!” exclaimed the captain. He was much distressed. Ned knew why, and appreciated. To stay behind, while the others fought, would be awful. “Then I must remain? Can’t I go, sir?”
“The wagon-train must be protected,” answered the general, kind but firm. “We’d like to have you with us, Hamilton. We need such men as you. But the train needs an officer, too; and this is soldier’s luck. Your duty is here.”
“It seems pretty hard that I’ve got to stay,” he murmured, dismayed. “There’s liable to be a big fight—and I won’t be on hand to lead my squadron.”
The general surveyed him, with eyes softening. Truly, the young captain, high-mettled and soldierly, made a sorry figure.
“I’ll tell you, Hamilton. If—if you can find an officer who by one reason or another feels convinced that he should stay rather than you, he may take your place. Otherwise, as officer of the day your duty is with the train.”
Captain Hamilton’s face lighted.