This he did on the third day after the nature of the disease had become definitely established.
The telegram was an assuring one, but it brought Benjamin Barriscale, Sr., to Camp Stewart within thirty-six hours after its receipt. He found his son much improved, the crisis safely passed, and the young man on the sure road to recovery. He remained with him three days.
It was on the afternoon of the second day, as he was sitting at the side of Ben’s cot which had been partitioned off by screens from the rest of the hospital ward, that the subject of their relations with Lieutenant Halpert McCormack came up.
“I’ve nothing against him now,” said Ben. “I’ve seen him day in and day out for months, and in my opinion he’s a soldier and a gentleman.”
The elder Barriscale sat for a moment in silence.
“I may have been rather harsh in my judgment of him before the riot,” he said at last. “But I still think that his opinions and conduct justify my attitude toward him up to that time.”
“That may be very true, father; but you’ll have to admit that he handled the situation that day in a masterly manner.”
“Yes, I’ll admit that.”
“And that his patience and judgment and firmness not only saved our property from destruction, but prevented much bloodshed and probably a city-wide disaster.”
“I guess that’s true too.”