They're real enough."
There was a short silence; then Celia spoke unsteadily from the depths
of her pillow:
"Uncle Ray, were you ever mean enough to be jealous?"
The captain looked quickly at the fair head on the pillow. "Jealous?"
said he, without a hint of surprise in his voice. "Why, yes--jealous of
my colonel, my lieutenants, my orderlies, my privates, my doctors, my
nurses--jealous of the very Filipino prisoners themselves--because they
all had legs and could walk."
"Oh, I know--I don't mean that!" cried Celia, "Of course you envied
everybody who could walk. Poor Uncle Ray! But you weren't small enough
to mind because the officers under you had got your chance?"
"Wasn't I, though? Well, maybe I wasn't," said the captain, speaking
low. "Perhaps I didn't lie and grind my teeth when they told me about
the gallant work Lieutenant Garretson had done with my men at Balangiga.
A mere boy, Garretson! The whole world applauded it. If I'd not been
knocked out so soon it would have been my name that would have gone into
history. Yes, I chewed that to shreds many a sleepless night, and hated
the fellow for getting my chance.
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