But with a toss of his red locks he muttered:
"All right, fire away--you can talk your head off, for all the good
it'll do ye."
They walked off together a few yards and sat down.
With the friendliest smile the Lieutenant extended his hand:
"Before we begin our chat, let's shake hands?"
"Certain--shore--"
The brawny hand clasped his.
"I want you to know," the young officer continued earnestly, "my real
feelings toward you and your men. I've been out here four years with you
fellows, pushing the flag into the wilderness, and the more I see of you
the better I like you. I know real men when I see them. You're strong,
generous, brave, and you do things. You're building a great republic on
this frontier of the world. I've known your hospitality. You've had
little education in the schools, but you're trained for this big work in
the only school that counts out here--the School of Danger and Struggle
and Experience--"
The brawny hand was lifted in a helpless sort of protest:
"Look a here, Boy, you're goin' ter bamboozle me, I kin jist feel it in
my bones--"
"On the other hand," the Lieutenant continued eagerly, "I assure you I
am going to treat you and your friends with the profoundest respect.
It's due you.
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