"Going to the war! Enlisted with the First Tennessee? By God, sir, do you really mean that?" "I am, sir," I said. He pulled me to him and clasped me. "Jack, Jack, my boy!" He turned to Braxton Bragg. "Braxton, now by God, sir, this boy is indeed my grandson; the lost has been found, the prodigal has returned! I knew the old Rutherford blood would redeem him yet!" He laughed happily, still holding me to him. "Braxton, take him by the hand, for ’by the Eternal,’ as Old Hickory would say, he is the same blood kin as you, and I am going to give him the same chance! Hey there, Thomas! Oh, Thomas!" he called to his old body servant. "Bring me a light, and paper and pencil! I’ll drop a line to Hawthorne—to put you on his staff as Captain. And my check book, Thomas! By God, sir—Jack—my grandson, Jack, I’ll give you a little ready money, only a thousand dollars to see that you go like a soldier and a Rutherford—ha-ha—damn him, I knew he’d do it!" "I’m going as a private, Grandfather; General Hawthorne has already offered me the rank you suggest—but—" "You damned mooning fool, you shall not do it!" he cried. "No Rutherford ever went to any war a private. Tut—tut—I’ll fix that. You are now my grandson, Jack." His voice fell. He spoke through tears. "Your mother, Jack—Emily—ay, my boy—I can see her now with her sweet dreamy eyes of poetry, the finely chiseled half sad face of religion, the heart of romance and of sorrow. I loved her best of them all—Jack—and you are her son—my grandson." "Grandfather," I said, "I thank you, and I shall try to be worthy of you and of my mother and my father who died a gentleman. But I shall ask only for this horse, for our General to ride, and that he shall be near me, for I promised Eloise I would always care for him. She gave him to me," I added. Instantly Braxton Bragg was on his feet. "Eloise never owned him. Why, it’s what I have come by for, Grandfather. What you had just promised me I could have when he rode up." He came up to me, catching at the reins. "No sir, you shall never ride him off this place, he is mine." My grandfather rose and stood between us. "Sit down, Braxton Bragg," he said angrily. "You’ve been drinking and you’ve not too much sense when you are sober. Now, I had forgotten—I forget so much of late: come to think of it, it was Eloise’s horse, no one else could touch him, and the way that girl could ride him—no—no—if she gave him to Jack he shall have him." "He has lied," Braxton Bragg cried, pushing the old man angrily aside to shoulder up to me. "He is lying. She didn’t give him the horse—" My fist shut the rest of his words in his mouth. I felt the cut of his teeth where my knuckles struck them as I sent him suddenly full length on the ground. He tried to rise, drawing his Colt’s. But my grandfather struck it from his hand with his crutch, knocking the weapon across the road.