Deck saw that, from the first, the lieutenant in command of the riflemen was afflicted with an attack of the "big head," and considered himself as the practical superior of the young officer who was his military superior by the order of the major commanding. The cavalry officer was not "puffed up" by his position, but he felt the necessity of maintaining his dignity as the chief of the entire force on the ground.
"I do not send you back, but I give you permission to retire from the field," added Deck.
"I should like to ask who has done all the work that has been done in this place?" demanded Butters.
"I admit that your men have done the most of it," answered the lieutenant, when the entire thirty riflemen had gathered near to hear the dispute; "but if you are not willing to obey my orders, I can get along better without you than with you. If you desire to retire from the field, I have nothing more to say."
"No! no! no!" shouted half the men.
"You can do as you please, Lieutenant Butters," added Deck, when he realized that a majority of the riflemen were with him.
They had seen Deck in the thickest of the fight at the hill, and heard all about his conduct in other actions from the members of the company with whom they had fraternized at the jail, and it is not stating it too strongly to say, in figurative terms, that he was the idol of the Riverlawn Cavalry.
"I was calling for volunteers, and meant to obey your order, Lieutenant Lyon," said Butters.
"But you objected to it, and there is no emergency in the present situation."
"Volunteers to work in the medder, walk over to my right!" ordered the lieutenant of the riflemen, though with very ill grace.