Part 2 (2/2)

It had been hard for Jack to be separated from his father from the first; but now, whenever he heard from his father's letters about G. W., and realized that among war's perils there could be a place for a small boy, his heart simply ached with longing. G. W., a boy little older than himself, was there beside Daddy! But at this point Jack always recalled the story of the gauntlet and the small sword, and stifled back the tears and looked lovingly at his pretty mother. No matter how he envied G. W., he would stay, patient, in his ”turret chamber.” His place was beside his mother until Daddy came marching home. How many times his father had sent him that message! Jack dreamed almost every night of his father coming home, keeping step to the cheerful drum; so he had marched away, and so he would return, with G. W. at his side!

Near his bed, at night, always lay Jack's own splendid suit of make-believe soldier clothes. It was hard sometimes for him to think that they were make-believe clothes, while the suit of blue his mother had sent to G. W. were real, true ones, and worn by the dusky little soldier who lived in his dear father's tent. There often seemed to him an unendurable difference between G. W. and himself.

Poor little Jack! he was braver than he realized when he turned away from this feeling and smiled up into his mother's face.

But Jack's mother knew all about this feeling.

”And so you see, dear,” the stories for Jack always ended, ”that though you are but mother's obedient little boy now, your chance in the great world's work will come!”

And in the tent, beneath the glorious sunsets of Tampa, at about the same time ”Daddy” would be sitting and smoking beside a small mattress bed, urging the same line of conduct upon another boy ”hero” with a heart under the brown skin as pure and innocent as the one throbbing beneath the snowy night-gown so far away.

”Your chance will come, G. W.!”

And both boys generally fell asleep with the resolve that they would do the things and bear the things of the present, and ”wait” without a murmur, because heroes had done the same since the world began.

IV.

WAITING IN THE TURRET CHAMBER.

It was never clear to G. W. why the ”boys” were always anxious to be ”going.” For him the lazy, fun-loving life was never tedious or unpleasant. From all that he could gather by endless questioning, war was not half so agreeable, although he granted it must certainly be more exciting.

”When will the order come for us to move?” That was the daily question in camp.

At last it came! They were to sail at once. Of course the President of the United States, whose ill.u.s.trious name G. W. bore himself, meant all the thousands who were encamped in Tampa; but to G. W. the order meant that _he_ and ”de Colonel” were to ”pull up stakes” and sail away to that strange, mysterious Cuba, and face war!

The little dusky fellow in blue suddenly felt that his hands were pretty full.

He it was who packed all the Colonel's belongings, giving special care to the photograph. He polished up the guns and swords, and even his own b.u.t.tons. He meant at least to command the respect of the foe. He often grew hot and tired, during those days, but never made a complaint. And when the hurried camp preparations were completed, it was G. W. and ”de Colonel” who marched down the long pier to the waiting transports. To G.

W.'s mind, it was for them the cheers rang out, and for them did the band play the inspiring music that set his feet dancing. Oh, it was the proudest moment of G. W.'s life so far. His b.u.t.tons almost burst over his swelling chest. He was marching straight into the glorious future.

He was going to be a hero without further delay. He saw ”visions,” like his mammy. Somewhere, off in the misty distance, his ”chance” was waiting for him; he felt as certain of it as he was that under his beloved uniform he was surely melting.

The days in the crowded transport put little G. W.'s endurance to the test. But during the wretched hours one glance at the Colonel's face gave him courage to suffer and be--still!

His Colonel saw it all.

”Bear up, old chap! Heroes grin--and conquer things,” said the officer, while his heart ached for the silent child; and in the end, through sea-sickness and a longing for old easy days, G. W. did grin and ”conquer things.”

Then they came to Cuba! Under the dark palms and cacti, once more the white tents were pitched; and facing the fact of approaching battles, the men made ready, but still lightened the heavy hours by song and joke, and boisterously welcomed the old comrades.h.i.+p of G. W.

G. W. revived when once his feet touched solid land. ”I doan't like de water,” he explained; ”it's shaky an' onsartain an'--an'--wet! Dere's too much ob it too, an' when it gets wobbly, whar are yo?”

So the boy cheerfully took up again his dancing and singing. War grew again to seem to him a matter of some other day. The regiment seemed merely to have s.h.i.+fted its pleasure-ground. To be sure, there were fewer hours alone with the Colonel, for he was very busy, but G. W. followed him about at a distance whenever and wherever he could. If love could s.h.i.+eld the young officer from harm, surely never was he safer.

But presently G. W. began to form new and more personal ideas of war; his imagination, fed by the stories he had heard, sprang to life.

Perhaps war wasn't anything they would know about beforehand. That might be the reason for the look of anxiety he had noticed upon the face of his Colonel. Possibly war was like a great cloud hurled along by the hurricane--G. W. knew how _that_ looked. They might all be sitting by the camp-fire some night, when suddenly war would descend upon them and find them unprepared. With that thought G. W.'s face took on an expression of anxiety. He clung closer to his Colonel; he did not intend that war should find his Colonel unattended by body-guard.

<script>