earing completion, Sam sent for this man so
that he might thank and congratulate him. The soldier came up, his
hands black with charcoal and his face smudged as well.

"You've done well, sergeant," said Sam. "I will mention you to the
general when we return."

"Thank you, sir," said the man, and his voice sounded strangely
familiar. Sam peered into his face. He had certainly seen it before.

"What is your name, sergeant?"

"Thatcher, sir."

"Why, of course, you're Thatcher--Josh Thatcher of Slowburgh. Don't you
remember that night at the hotel when we had a drink together? Don't
you remember Captain Jinks?"

"Yes, sir, but I didn't know you was he--a colonel, too, sir," said the
man, as Sam shook his hand warmly.

"I'm glad to see that you're doing credit to your town," said Sam.

"They'll be surprised to hear it at home, sir," said Thatcher. "They
was always down on me. They never gave me a chance. Here they all
speaks to me like you do, sir. Why, Dr. Amen slapped me on the back and
called me a fine fellow when I brought him in a big load of stuff. I
got it from houses of people I didn't even know, and he said I was a
good fellow. At Slowburgh I took a chicken now and then, and only from
somebody who'd done me some mean trick, and they said I was a thief.
Once or twice I burned a barn there just for fun, and never anybody's
barn that wasn't down on me and rich enough to stand it, and they said
I was a criminal. And as for women, if they ever seed me with one, they
all said I was dissolute and a disgrace to the place, and here I have
ten times more of 'em than I want, and everybody says it's all right,
and they made me corporal and sergeant, and the generals talked to me
like I was somebody, and I swear as much as I like. I never shot
anybody at home. I suppose they'd have strung me up if I had, and here
I just pepper any pigtail I like. They called me a criminal at
Slowburgh, just think of that! I say that criminals are just soldiers
who ain't got a job--who ain't had any chance at all, I says. I wasn't
ever judged right, I wasn't."

There were tears in Thatcher's eyes as he ended this speech.

"You're a fine chap," said Sam. "I'll tell all about you when you get
home. This war has been the making of you. How are the other Slowburgh
boys?"

"They're all right, except my cousin Tom. He's down sick with
something. He's run about a little too much. He always was a-sparki