The swelling echo behind him told Jukes he had spoken the brigade’s mind. The captain’s face was black as thunder but the brigadier never changed a whit. “You are mild enough. Were I inclined I could add to that tale of misfortune and make it darker still. Gentlemen, your grievances are my own. But it will never do to break down like this. It only gives our enemies a chance to strengthen their position. Nothing will ever convince me you are the kind to sully your honor by sedition. I want you all to disperse to your huts. Meanwhile I may tell you there is at this moment wagon-trains bound for camp with warm clothes and fresh beef. Now, gentlemen, retire to your quarters.” The brigadier, looking over their thoughtful countenances, knew he had broken the back of resistance. They had given his words attention and that meant they were still reasonable. Being a kindly man, he clinched his victory with mildness. “Many of you are very weak. Considering that, we will omit grand parade tonight. The guards will be posted informally.” The men broke from the ring one by one, slowly returning to their huts. The brigadier and his staff rode away. Jukes, profoundly affected, trudged down the street, breasted the snow bank and caught the handle of his ax. A dozen blows brought the tree down and he set to cutting off branches and sections. Perhaps a half-hour passed at this occupation and the gray dusk fell without warning while he meditated over the plight of his comrades. His recent speech had made him aware of his own personal troubles, too, and as he chopped at the log he thought again of his folks at home. “That Bige,” he muttered, “allus was a no-’count. As fer them braggin’ Neely boys, they never was worth powder to blow ’em up. Paw must be doin’ poorly.” He drove the ax into the log and loaded his arms with split wood. Stumbling back to the hut, he began shaving a stick of kindling. He built a teepee of the splinters and went to the adjoining fire for a burning brand to start his own blaze. A flame shot upward and caught the sticks. Some one in the hut called to him: “That you, Jukes? Didn’t you see the notice?” Jukes piled more wood on the fire. “What notice?” “Fella come down from captain’s quarters with a notice an’ posted it to our hut while you was gone. Better see what it says.” Jukes took up a flaming branch and carried it to the hut wall. There, stuck to a log where the company orders were usually put, he found the following announcement, written in the clerk’s bold hand: From this day Jem Rice will be sergeant of the company, taking place of Alva Jukes, returned to the ranks. --Fleming, Captain.