d have made yourself very popular with the
youngsters, but I'm afraid you are too careless and independent where
the seniors are concerned. Rayner is a good soldier; and you show him
very scant respect, I'm told."
"Well, he's such an interfering fellow. They will all tell you I'm
respectful enough to--to the captains I like--"
"That's just it, Lawrence. So long as you like a man your manner is what
it should be. What a young soldier ought to learn is to be courteous and
respectful to senior officers whether he likes them or not. It costs an
effort sometimes, but it tells. You never know what trouble you are
laying up for yourself in the army by bucking against men you don't
like. They may not be in position to resent it at the time, but the time
is mighty apt to come when they _will_ be, and then you are helpless."
"Why, Captain Hull, I don't see it that way at all. It seems to me that
so long as an officer attends to his duty, minds his own business, and
behaves like a gentleman, no one can harm him; especially when all the
good fellows of the regiment are his friends, as they are mine, I think,
in the Riflers."
"Ah, Hayne, it is a hard thing to teach a youngster that--that there are
men who find it very easy to make their juniors' lives a burden to them,
and without overstepping a regulation. It is harder yet to say that
friends in the army are a good deal like friends out of it: one only has
to get into serious trouble to find how few they are. God grant you may
never have to learn it, my boy, as many another has had to, by sharp
experience! Now we must get a good night's rest. You sleep like a log, I
see, and I can only take cat-naps. Confound this money! How I wish I
could get rid of it!"
"Where do you keep it to-night?"
"Right here in my saddle-bags under my head. Nobody can touch them that
I do not wake; and my revolver is here under the blanket. Hold on! Let's
take a look and see if everything is all right." He holds a little
camp-lantern over the bags, opens the flap, and peers in. "Yes,--all
serene. I got a big hunk of green sealing-wax from the paymaster and
sealed it all up in one package with the memorandum-list inside. It's
all safe so far,--even to the hunk of sealing-wax.--What is it,
sergeant?"
A tall, soldierly, dark-eyed trooper appears at the door-way of the
little tent, and raises his gauntleted hand in salute. His language,
though couched in the phraseology of the soldier, tells both
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