red his air of courage. He went on to repeat a
statement he had heard going from group to group at the camp that
morning. "The brigadier said he never saw a new reg'ment fight the way
we fought yestirday, didn't he? And we didn't do better than many
another reg'ment, did we? Well, then, you can't say it's th' army's
fault, can you?"

In his reply, the friend's voice was stern. "'A course not," he said.
"No man dare say we don't fight like th' devil. No man will ever dare
say it. Th' boys fight like hell-roosters. But still--still, we don't
have no luck."

"Well, then, if we fight like the devil an' don't ever whip, it must be
the general's fault," said the youth grandly and decisively. "And I
don't see any sense in fighting and fighting and fighting, yet always
losing through some derned old lunkhead of a general."

A sarcastic man who was tramping at the youth's side, then spoke
lazily. "Mebbe yeh think yeh fit th' hull battle yestirday, Fleming,"
he remarked.

The speech pierced the youth. Inwardly he was reduced to an abject
pulp by these chance words. His legs quaked privately. He cast a
frightened glance at the sarcastic man.

"Why, no," he hastened to say in a conciliating voice, "I don't think I
fought the whole battle yesterday."

But the other seemed innocent of any deeper meaning. Apparently, he
had no information. It was merely his habit. "Oh!" he replied in the
same tone of calm derision.

The youth, nevertheless, felt a threat. His mind shrank from going
near to the danger, and thereafter he was silent. The significance of
the sarcastic man's words took from him all loud moods that would make
him appear prominent. He became suddenly a modest person.

There was low-toned talk among the troops. The officers were impatient
and snappy, their countenances clouded with the tales of misfortune.
The troops, sifting through the forest, were sullen. In the youth's
company once a man's laugh rang out. A dozen soldiers turned their
faces quickly toward him and frowned with vague displeasure.

The noise of firing dogged their footsteps. Sometimes, it seemed to be
driven a little way, but it always returned again with increased
insolence. The men muttered and cursed, throwing black looks in its
direction.

In a clear space the troops were at last halted. Regiments and
brigades, broken and detached through their encounters with thickets,
grew together again and lines were faced toward the p