“By what right does Major Morgan——” began Tom.
“I don’t know a thing about it,” was the quick reply. “It is no part of my duty to inquire into my superior’s private affairs. All I can say is that I am commanded to bring Tom Randolph before him without loss of time. You are Tom Randolph, I take it. Then saddle up and come with me.”
“But the Yankees stole my horse and I have nothing to ride except a mule,” whined Tom.
“Then ride the mule or come afoot. Make up your mind to something, for I am going to start in half a minute by the watch.”
“You will give my son time to exchange his citizen’s clothes for his captain’s uniform, of course,” ventured Mrs. Randolph.
“Sorry I haven’t an instant to wait, but the color of his clothes will make no sort of difference to Major Morgan,” was the reply. “Now then, will you order up that mule, or walk, or ride double with my man?”
“Are you an officer?” faltered Tom.
“Not much of one—only a captain.”
“Well, that puts a different look on the matter entirely,” said Tom, who up to this time thought he was being ordered around by a private soldier. “Since you are an officer I expect to receive an officer’s treatment from you, and I don’t wish to be addressed——”
“That’s all right. But hurry up, for the time is precious.”