He knew the basis of his feeling. He had led troops too many years not to have learned how rapidly a commander can establish a feeling of empathy, even on the first day of a new command.
He knew the basis for the feeling, but he couldn't pinpoint an exact reason.
Or could he?
Why were there absolutely no lights at all in the prison compound?
He spoke over his shoulder to Ferguson, "I'm going for a little walk."
"Want me with you, sir?"
"No, I don't think I'll need you. Keep going and finish up in here."
"Right, sir. You've got your pistol."
The old master sergeant was stating a fact, not asking a question.
"Ha!"