"I've fought three great battles this year," said Warner, "and I don't
think they ought to ask any more of me."
"Be comforted," said Dick. "We start to-morrow, the 26th, which leaves
five days of the year, and I don't think we can arrange a battle in that
time. You'll not have to whip Bragg before the New Year, George."
"Well, I'm glad of it. You can have too many battles in one year.
I didn't get rest enough after my wound at the Second Manassas before I
had to go in and save our army at Antietam, and then it was but a little
time before we fought at Perryville. That wasn't as big a battle as some
of the others, but Dick, for those mad three hours it seemed that all the
demons of death were turned loose."
"It certainly looked like it, George, you stiff old Vermonter, and I
don't forget that you came to save me."
"Shut up about that, or I'll hit you over the head with the butt of my
pistol. I merely paid back, though I only paid about half of what I was
owing to you. The chance luckily came sooner than I had hoped. But,
Dick, what a morning to follow Christmas.
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