“Jist lookin’ ’round, sorrs,” stammered Jimmie, in his best brogue, with scrape of foot and touch of fingers to his ragged cap.
“You go back to the train. This is no place for boys,” General Casement ordered sharply. “I think,” he added, to General Dodge, “that I’ll instruct the police to keep all minors off the streets, at night, unless with their parents or guardians.”
“A good idea,” agreed General Dodge. “But I’ll relieve you of one boy, anyway. He goes along with me, I believe. You still want to go to the very front, do you?” he asked, of Terry.
“Yes, sir, if I can.”
“Well, you can, with General Casement’s permission. I’m on my way now. My party is camped a few miles out, beside the river. You’ll see the tents, in the morning. And you’ll find an old friend of yours with us: Sol Judy.”
That was good news.
“Is Sol going? Do you know Sol, sir?”
“Yes, indeed. Sol’s been my guide before. He mentioned you when we got to talking over the Plum Creek massacre. That was a close call, wasn’t it! And you lost your dog.”
“Yes, sir,” faltered Terry, with a little twinge in his heart. “I lost him. But he saved Bill Thompson and me. I suppose losing those men was worse.”
“They all gave their lives to the service,” said the general, gravely. “People will never know what it costs to build this road and keep it open. Now, we break camp at five o’clock tomorrow morning. You report to me here at Casement Brothers’ headquarters at six o’clock. Bring your campaign kit along, for we’ll be out all summer. We’ll provide a horse for you.”