One side of the ring parted precipitately and four horsemen, led by a plump brigadier with ruddy cheeks, forced a path to the center. The brigadier leaned over to catch the lieutenant’s words. And then as suddenly as all this racket had begun it subsided, leaving the crowd moving uneasily, some exhausted, others implacably rooted to their places. The brigadier’s face was very solemn, and when he spoke it was not in anger but with compassionate gravity. “You do yourselves ill, gentlemen,” said he, “to create such a disturbance. Must we win battles from the enemy and lose them among ourselves? Fie that there should be such dissension! Come now, what’s the root of all this?” The silence was so heavy that the crackling of wood on a near-by fire echoed like gunshots in the frosty air. A voice sang out-- “Jemmy Rice, you speak for us.” Jukes waited several moments to hear the man’s voice. At last he turned and sought through the crowd until his eyes fell upon Rice--a tumultuous character of his own company who had the readiest tongue for grievances in all the camp. But Jemmy Rice was silent now in face of the brigadier. For this was akin to mutiny and he had no stomach to put himself up as a ringleader to be shot. Jukes, waiting further, closed his fist and took a pace forward where the brigadier’s searching eyes might find him. The wild rush of feeling that sprang upward, had it been allowed to escape, would have sent a torrent of angry words upon the officer. Jukes checked it, lips turning thin from the effort. His somber face met the brigadier not defiantly but as an equal speaking to an equal. “A man died in my hut this afternoon fer lack o’ food an’ lack o’ blankets. Died on the ground with nary a straw beneath him. There’s four others in that hut an’ none fit to be abroad. _That’s_ what we raise Cain about.” The brigadier inclined his head. “I am aware of the misfortunes of this camp. Every officer worth a grain of salt is aware of them. Don’t you think we spend our days trying to make conditions a little better? But what help d’you expect by this conduct?” Jukes, looking beyond the brigadier, caught sight of his captain, an angry man indeed that one of his own company should be spokesman of rebellion. He squared his shoulders and proceeded: “We ain’t doubtin’ your efforts. But it don’t seem in the power o’ officers to help us, so we try raisin’ our own voices. We ain’t had meat fer six days. Last rations o’ bread were plumb moldy. Clothes--well, we don’t expect none, never havin’ had an issue since October. There’s half o’ this company in the hospital an’ more waitin’ to get in when beds are empty. As fer pay, I ain’t seen a scrap o’ money fer fourteen months. Now we hear there’s a committee of the Congress comin’ down to see why we ain’t satisfied. Well, sir, God grant they come to this company fer information!”