“A reward is offered by the government for the return of Private Austin, deserter, late of Company A,” read the placard nailed upon the barrack walls. “A reward is offered by the government for the return of Private Austin, deserter, late of Company A,” read the telegrams that sent out a thrill of greed through the veins of half a score of sleepy sheriffs. “A reward is offered by the government for the return of Private Austin, deserter, late of Company A,” read the colonel in front of the gathered regiment. And then a strange thing happened: across the open space came Private Austin, his hands tied behind him with his own belt, and by his side a half-grown boy with Private Austin's shotgun held in his grasp. To the waiting colonel came the pair.
“Colonel, the boy took me. He gets the reward,” said Private Austin.
WHAT REARTON SAW
REARTON dropped down in the chair I pushed forward.
“Can you give me a moment or two?” he asked.
“As many as you like,” I answered. “Just wait till I put my name to this—” and I signed the letter before me.
He watched me fold and slip it into an envelope, then he said:
“I want your opinion on certain matters.”