Once inside he found himself for the first time alone with the Meter. Under his scrutiny heretofore Ruggs had felt himself to be merely number one of the rear rank needful of correction. And yet the victim felt that he could part from the captain with no feeling of resentment at the blow he was about to receive.
'Mr. Ruggs!'
The Estimator of Destinies wheeled in his chair and cast a look of brotherly frankness into Ruggs’s eyes.
'Yes, sir.'
'Mr. Ruggs, you’ve been here almost three months.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I haven’t time to mince matters with you. You have one great failing which I’m going to dwell upon. You attempt to do too many things at once. In the military service you are compelled to consider what is best for the moment. Nothing changes so fast or furiously as a military situation. Don’t forecast what you’ll do next so much as figure what you’ll do now. Make your men be of the greatest use in the team right now—understand? What you’d be liable to do would be a certain amount of banking in the trenches. While you’d be speculating on how much interest your venture would bring you to-morrow, a gas wave comes over to-day and finds your men without masks. Be ready for the thing at issue. You’ve got to take this matter in hand at once and overcome it.'
Ruggs acknowledged to himself that his difficulties were all too plainly exposed. He had tried to compass the whole of drill regulations in a single night. He had been so interested in what he was going to do to the enemy after he reached the bluff, that he had forgotten to give the proper signals to start the company on its mission. If only he had understood the correct method of approach at the beginning!
'That,' went on the Meter, as if in continuation of Ruggs’s thoughts, 'has been your downfall.'
There was a knock at the door. In answer to the captain’s 'Come in,' a thick official document was handed him.