“He says it’ll take two thousand men,” was the report. “He ought to know—he’s a military man. Austin isn’t commander-in-chief any longer.”
“Maybe we ought to wait for him.”
“Maybe we ought to wait for more reinforcements.”
“If we’re going to wait, we needn’t wait in this place. I don’t want to camp out in many more northers. I near plumb froze.”
“Those fellows make me tired,” complained Jim. “They’ve been itching to fight and be done, and now they’re kicking. What do we care about Houston and Wharton and the rest? We’ve got enough men to take Bejar. Houston isn’t there and we are.”
Late that afternoon it was rumored that John W. Smith, an American surveyor of Bejar, had smuggled out to General Austin a complete plan of the fortifications in the town, and that Dr. James Grant, another engineer, had pronounced them excellent as a guide.
In spite of the grumblings, the two divisions of the army were paraded under arms and inspected, at sun-down; General Austin made a speech of encouragement; and upon dismissal the company commanders were ordered to turn their commands out before dawn and assemble them at the old mill at three o’clock.
After the dismissal of the parade, another strange thing occurred. Sion trudged over from his mess, in the dark, against orders, to debate the matter with his two cronies. In fact, the whole camp was uneasy, and sleeping not at all.
“Hello,” greeted Sion. “Say, did you fellows get asked by any officer whether you’d attack Bejar or not?”