"Why do we sit here, twiddling our
thumbs when there is an army waiting to be taken by us?"
"You're a commissioned officer, sir, and I'm only a private."
"Never mind about that. You're a veteran of many years and many fights,
and I know but little. Why do we sit still in the dust and fail to take
the great prize that's offered to us?"
"The men of an army, sir, do the fighting, but its generals are its
brains. It is for the brains to judge, to see and to command. The
generals cannot win without the men, and the men cannot win without the
generals. Now, in this case, sir, you can see--"
He stopped and shrugged his shoulders, as if it were not for him to say
any more.
"I see," said Dick bitterly. "You needn't say it, sergeant, but I'll
say it for you. General McClellan has been overcome by caution again,
and he sees two Johnnies where but one stands."
Sergeant Whitley shrugged his shoulders again, but said nothing. Dick
was about to turn away, when he saw a tall, thin figure approaching.
"Mr. Warner," said Sergeant Whitley.
"So it is," exclaimed Dick.
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