soak was a delight he had forgotten. He shampooed his unkempt head
vigorously and allowed himself to forget all worries, wallowing in the
sheer joy of being really clean again.

Hamilcar had produced a clean shirt and drawers from the saddlebags, even
managing to work up a shadow of shine on the scuffed cavalry boots, and
had beat the worst of the trail dust from the rest of the traveler's
clothing. Drew had re-dressed except for his gun belt when he heard a
voice call from the next cubicle.

"Ham--Ham! You git yourself in here, 'fore I skin that black hide--"

"Johnny!" Topham's voice cut through the other's thickened slur. "You soak
that rot-gut out of you, and mind your tongue while you do it!"

"Sure, sure, Reese--" The voice was pitched lower this time, but to Drew
the tone was more mocking than conciliatory. Drunk or sober, that stranger
did not hold very kindly thoughts of Topham. But that was none of the
Kentuckian's business.

"Yore hat, suh." Hamilcar brought in the well-brushed headgear, much more
respectable looking than it had been an hour ago. The cord on it
glistened. Army issue--brave gold bullion--made for a general's wearing.
Drew straightened it, remembering....

Sergeant Rennie of the Scouts, in from an independent foray into
enemy-held Tennessee, reporting to the Old Man himself--General Bedford
Forrest. And Forrest saying:

"We don't give medals, Sergeant. But I think a good soldier might just be
granted a birthday present without any one gittin' too excited about how
military that is." Then he had jerked the cord off his own hat and given
it to Drew. It was something big to remember when you were only nineteen
and had been soldiering three years, three years with a dogged army that
refused to be beaten. That hat cord, the spurs on his boots, they were all
he had brought home from war--save a tough body and a mind he hoped was as
hard.

"Mighty pretty hat trimmin', that, suh," Hamilcar admired.

"Mighty big man wore it once." Drew was still half in the past. "What do I
owe you more'n the thanks of a mighty tired man you've turned out brand
new again?" He smiled and was suddenly all boy.

"Foah bits, suh. An' it was a pleasure to do fo' a gentleman. It truly
was. Come agin, suh--come, agin!"

Drew went down the corridor, his spurs answering with a chiming ring each
time his heels met planking. Worn at Chapultepec by a Mexican officer,
they had been claimed as spoils of war in '47 by a Te