“And a poor soldier,” chimed in a voice. “Pardon me for eavesdropping, gentlemen, but the fact is I couldn’t help overhearing a part of your conversation.”
Faces red with shame, the two boys turned in the direction of the newcomer, Corporal Richardson himself, who stood just inside the door. Dick could have bit out his tongue or, better still, hid his head under the pillow while some friendly magician transported him—bed, blankets and all—to some remote place, thousands and thousands of miles distant. For the first time he realized what a fool he had been—a miserable young fool with a wagging tongue in his head. He hadn’t the courage to look Corporal Richardson in the face.
“You’d make a poor soldier,” continued the corporal, calmly surveying the two culprits. “You see, Dick, a soldier’s first duty is obedience. What do you suppose would happen to me if I questioned my superior’s commands, if I didn’t do what I was told to do even if, deep down in my heart, I believed or knew that my superior was in the wrong?”
“You’d be placed under arrest,” surmised Sandy.
“Right! That’s exactly what would happen to me. And I’d deserve the punishment I got.”
Corporal Richardson ceased speaking for a moment, strode forward and placed a kindly hand on Dick’s bandaged head.
“Now don’t feel badly about this, Dick, and when I go out of the room I want you to try and forget the reprimand. Dismiss the whole incident, just as I propose to dismiss it. We’re all friends, I owe you boys a debt of gratitude. I admire you both very much. As a general thing, I’m not usually one to hand out compliments or bestow praise, but I’ll say this: You and Sandy are as rough a pair of young vagabonds as it has ever been my experience to meet.”
A roar of laughter greeted this amusing sally, and for a moment Dick entirely forgot his discomfiture.
“Seriously now,” Corporal Richardson continued, “I want both of you to understand my position in this matter. Remember this: It is one thing to risk your life, but quite another to risk your life needlessly. That’s exactly what you’d be doing if you went out on the trail with Malemute Slade. Your chance of stopping a bullet would be exceedingly good. Scar-Face would lead you into a trap before you had gone thirty miles. I tell you Henderson’s gang of cut-throats and ruffians has become a terrible menace to the entire western portion of this north country. Conditions have never been worse since the Riel Rebellion. If things do not improve shortly, I’m afraid the Royal Mounted will be compelled to call in outside aid.”
“But what will happen to Malemute Slade?” questioned Sandy in awed tones.