“A good joke,” he said jovially. “I see that you're ready of wit, despite your youth. No, those are not my shoes. I know dishonest men are making great sums out of supplies that are defective or short. A great war gives such people many opportunities, but I scorn them. I'll not deny that I seek a fair profit, but my chief object is to serve my country. Do you ever reflect, my young friend, that the men who clothe and feed an army have almost as much to do with winning the victory as the men who fight?” “I've thought of it,” said Dick, wondering what the contractor had in mind. “What regiment do you belong to, if I may ask? My motive in asking these questions is wholly good.” “One commanded by Colonel Winchester, recently sent from the west. We've been in only one battle in the east, that fought at Cedar Run against Jackson.” Watson again looked at Dick intently. The boy felt that he was being measured and weighed by a man of uncommon perceptions. Whatever might be his moral quality there could be no question of his ability. “I am, as I told you before,” said Watson, “a servant of my country. A man who feeds and clothes the soldiers well is a patriot, while he who feeds and clothes them badly is a mere money grubber.” He paused, as if he expected Dick to say something, but the boy was silent and he went on: “It is to the interest of the country that it be served well in all departments, particularly in the tremendous crisis that we now face. Yet the best patriot cannot always get a chance to serve. He needs friends at court, as they say. Now this colonel of yours, Colonel Winchester--I've observed both him and you, although I approached you as if I'd never heard of either of you before--is a man of character and influence. Certain words from him at the right time would be of great value, nor would his favorite aide suffer through bringing the matter to his attention.” Dick saw clearly now, but he was not impulsive. Experience was teaching him, while yet a boy, to speak softly. “The young aide of whom you speak,” he said, “would never think of mentioning such a matter to the colonel, of whom you also speak, and even if he should, the colonel wouldn't listen to him for a moment.” Watson shrugged his shoulders slightly, but made no other gesture of displeasure. “Doubtless you are well informed about this aide and this colonel,” he said, “but it's a pity. If more food is thrown to the sparrows than they can eat, is it any harm for other birds to eat the remainder?” “I scarcely regard it as a study in ornithology.”