“What is it, my son?” said he. “Did you wish to see me?”
The boy advanced, smiling.
“You do not know me, sir. My name is Shannon—George Shannon. I used to know you when you were stationed here with the army. I was a boy then.”
“You are right—I remember you perfectly. So you are grown into a strapping young man, I see!”
The boy twirled his cap in his hands.
“I want to go along with you, Captain,” said he shyly.
“What? You would go with me—do you know what is our journey?”
“No. I only hear that you are going up the Missouri, beyond St. Louis, into new country. They say there are buffalo there, and Indians. ’Tis too quiet here for me—I want to see the world with you.”
The young leader, after his fashion, stood silently regarding the other for a time. An instant served him.
“Very well, George,” said he. “If your parents consent, you shall go with me. Your pay will be such that you can save somewhat, and I trust you will use it to complete your schooling after your return. There will be adventure and a certain honor in our undertaking. If we come back successful, I am persuaded that our country will not forget us.”