“The only difference that I can find,” said Black, in a peculiar quiet tone which when he knew him better Tom discovered to mean deadly earnestness—with a bite in it—“between a chaplain’s job and a fighting man’s, is that the right sort of chaplain goes unarmed where the soldier goes armed—and takes about as many chances, first and last. And when it comes to bracing the men’s courage before the fight—and after—well, I think I covet the chaplain’s chance even more than I do the captain’s.”
They drove in silence after that for exactly three and three quarter miles, which, at Tom’s now modified pace, took about five minutes. Then Black said:
“I didn’t answer the other part of your question, did I, Tom?”
“About whether you’d go to war?” Tom turned, with a satisfied smile on his lips. “I’ve been thinking about that. But I guess you answered it, all right.”
At one o’clock in the morning Tom set Black down before the manse. For the last half-hour they had had a jolly talk which had ranged from guns to girls—and back again to guns. Black seemed to know more about the guns than the girls, though he had listened with interest to Tom’s remarks upon both subjects, and had contributed an anecdote or two which had made Tom shout with glee. When Black stood upon the sidewalk, a tall, straight figure in the moonlight, he held out his hand, which Tom gripped eagerly.
“Thank you for the best hour I’ve had in a month. That blew all the fog out of my brain, and put a wonderful new idea into my head.”
“Mind telling me what it is?” Tom asked.
“If you’ll keep it quiet till I have it under way. Do you think we can get a group of fellows, friends of yours and others, to come to my house once a week—say on Monday evenings—to talk over this war situation—study it up—discuss it freely—and plan what we can do about it, over here—before we get over there?”
“Do I think so?” Tom’s tone spoke his pleasure as well as the chuckling laugh he gave. “Do I think so? Why, the fellows will be crazy to come—after I tell ’em about this drive and chin of ours. When they know you burned the road with me at such a clip and never turned a hair, they’ll fall over one another to get to your house.”
He enjoyed to the full the laugh he got back from Black at that—a deep-keyed, whole-souled, delightful laugh, which told of the richness of the man’s nature. Then—