STEPHEN MARTIN. 153 



ways had shown its effect. I was very green! The fact 

 was painfully evident, and after a month or more of lis- 

 tening to Steve and doing a little thinking, I said: "I 

 heard yesterday that the Governor had given you a cap- 

 tain's commission in Berdan's sharpshooters." 



"Yes, I got it last week. You see, I had been at 

 work for the regiment because I was bound to go out 

 with it, and my friends told this to the Governor, and he 

 said that I deserved a captaincy and issued the commis- 

 sion at once. Now I'm in a position to make you a 

 definite proposition. The other company officers have 

 not been appointed, and will not be until the company 

 is full, and if you will enlist with me I will have you ap- 

 pointed first lieutenant before we leave the State." 



"Thank you very much, Steve, old boy! I'll think it 

 over. Somehow it doesn't seem much to be a first lieu- 

 tenant in a regiment wholly composed of second lieuten- 

 ants; but you know that I know nothing of these things, 

 and if I should decide to go with you of course I trust all 

 this detail to you as an old chum, for I am ignorant of 

 all that pertains to soldiering." 



"Very well! If you will go with me I'll fix you all 

 right and look after your interests as I would my own. 

 That story about the privates being all second lieuten- 

 ants is not true; it came from some fellow in the Ad- 

 jutant-General's office, but that's all right between us. 

 I'll fix it right for you." 



I went home that night and in a dream John Atwood 

 and I were snaring suckers with a fine copper wire on the 

 end of a pole. We were landing them bravely for a 

 while, and then things got into one of those queer mix- 

 tures that dreams are only capable of and which never 

 untangle. John Atwood disappeared and Steve Martin 

 stood where he had been, and as he lifted an unusually 



