“Did Angus Bruce get his M. C., sir?” asked Tom.
“He did,” replied the general. “His mother has it. And that reminds me! You are improperly dressed, Akerley.”
“I am sorry, sir,” returned Tom, in confusion. “I hadn’t any other clothes to put on.”
“That’s not what I refer to,” said the general, placing a finger-tip on the ribbon of the Military Cross on Tom’s left breast. “You have been awarded a bar to this. Get it and put it up before you go back to the woods, or there’ll be trouble. Send me your permanent address. Good-by. Good luck.”
It was a long and round-about journey back to Gaspard’s clearings. But Tom Akerley made it with a light and eager heart, thinking fearlessly of the past and dreaming fearlessly of the future.