"I understand your position, Stanton," was the quiet answer. "And I'll let you know my decision when I've reached it."
With a muttered oath, the Secretary of War left the room.
Betty bent close to his desk and whispered:
"You'll give me three days to get his mother here?"
"Of course I will, child, six days if it's necessary. Get word to her. If I can't save him, she can say good-bye to her boy. That can't hurt anybody, can it?"
With a warm grasp of his hand Betty flew to the telegraph office and three days later she saw for the first time the broken-hearted mother. The resemblance was so startling between the mother and both sons she couldn't resist the impulse to throw her arms around her neck.
"I came alone, dear," the mother said brokenly, "because his father is so bitter. You see we're divided at home, too. I'm with John in his love for the Union—but his father is bitter against the war. It would do no good for him to come. He hates the President and says he's responsible for all the blood and suffering—and so I'm alone—but you'll help me?"
"Yes, I'll help and we'll fight to win."
The mother held her at arms' length a moment:
"How sweet and beautiful you are! How happy I am that you love my John! I'm proud of you. Is John here?"