“General Anderson—that is, until he was killed at the battle of Chancellorsville. My father was there.”
“I was there, too,” said the judge.
“My father used to tell me about it,” exclaimed Samuel with sudden eagerness. “His brigade was in the right wing and they had a double line of trenches. And the rebels charged the line with cavalry. They charged a dozen times during the day, and there were big trees cut down by the bullets. My father said the rebels never fought harder than they did right there.”
“Yes,” said his honor, “I know. I was one of them.”
Everyone within hearing laughed; and Samuel turned crimson.
“I beg pardon, your honor,” he said.
“That's all right,” said the judge. And then he added gravely, “Very well, Samuel, we'll give you another chance for your father's sake. But don't let me see you here again.”
“No, your honor,” said Samuel. Then he added quickly. “But what can I do?”
“Get out of Lockmanville,” said the other.
“But how? When I've no money. If your honor could only help me to some work.”