The veteran was puzzled. What was Bob Bannister going to Easton for? His visit there must in some way be connected with the provost-marshal’s office and the draft. He could have no other errand. Then, suddenly, a light broke in upon Henry Bradbury’s mind. He reined his horse up sharply and turned to face the boy.
“Look here, Bob Bannister! are you going to enlist?”
Bob hardly knew how to reply. He considered the question for a moment before he answered it.
“Well,” he said finally, “I thought one of us ought to go to the war, Mr. Bradbury.”
The man dropped his reins and grasped Bob’s hand.
“You’re all right!” he exclaimed. “I wish Abe Lincoln had a hundred thousand more just like you. Richmond would be ours in thirty days.”
“But, Mr. Bradbury, nobody knows what I’m going to do, and I wish you wouldn’t tell. Maybe I’ll not be able to do it, anyway.”
“Mum’s the word. Don’t your folks know?”
“No. I couldn’t have gone if they knew.”