"But I could have stood all that—they were trifles." The Major was getting warmed up to it. "This is what finished me." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Read that, my boy—read that and ponder."
Jim took the paper and glanced at it.
"I carry that as my talisman. In the event of my death I've given orders for it to be sent to the author."
"But what's it all about?" asked Denver.
"'At the risk of repeating myself, I wish again to asseverate what I drew especial attention to last week, and the week before, and the one before that; as a firm grasp of this essential fact is imperative to an undistorted view of the situation. Whatever minor facts may now or again crop up in this titanic conflict, we must not shut our eyes to the rules of war. They are unchangeable, immutable; the rules of Cæsar were the rules of Napoleon, and are in fact the rules that I myself have consistently laid down in these columns. They cannot change: this war will be decided by them as surely as night follows day; and those ignorant persons who are permitted to express their opinions elsewhere would do well to remember that simple fact.'"
"What the devil is this essential fact?"
"Would you like to know? I got to it after two columns like that."
"What was it?" laughed Jim.
"'An obstacle in an army's path is that which obstructs the path of the army in question.'"
"After that—more rum." Jim solemnly decanted the liquid. "You deserve it. You...."