IV.
WAITING IN THE TURRET CHAMBER.
It was never clear to G. W. why the "boys" were always anxious to be "going." For him the lazy, fun-loving life was never tedious or unpleasant. From all that he could gather by endless questioning, war was not half so agreeable, although he granted it must certainly be more exciting.
"When will the order come for us to move?" That was the daily question in camp.
At last it came! They were to sail at once. Of course the President of the United States, whose illustrious name G. W. bore himself, meant all the thousands who were encamped in Tampa; but to G. W. the order meant that he and "de Colonel" were to "pull up stakes" and sail away to that strange, mysterious Cuba, and face war!
The little dusky fellow in blue suddenly felt that his hands were pretty full.
He it was who packed all the Colonel's belongings, giving special care to the photograph. He polished up the guns and swords, and even his own buttons. He meant at least to command the respect of the foe. He often grew hot and tired, during those days, but never made a complaint. And when the hurried camp preparations were completed, it was G. W. and "de Colonel" who marched down the long pier to the waiting transports. To G. W.'s mind, it was for them the cheers rang out, and for them did the band play the inspiring music that set his feet dancing. Oh, it was the proudest moment of G. W.'s life so far. His buttons almost burst over his swelling chest. He was marching straight into the glorious future. He was going to be a hero without further delay. He saw "visions," like his mammy. Somewhere, off in the misty distance, his "chance" was waiting for him; he felt as certain of it as he was that under his beloved uniform he was surely melting.
The days in the crowded transport put little G. W.'s endurance to the test. But during the wretched hours one glance at the Colonel's face gave him courage to suffer and be—still!
His Colonel saw it all.