and energy to dress, even after that chilling and invigorating plunge; but at last I was into my moccasins and shirt again. The Sagamore strode lightly to the lead; the Wyandotte started for the rear, but I shoved him next to the Mohican and in front of me, hating him suddenly, so abrupt and profound was my conviction that his stupidity was a studied treachery and not the consequences of a loutish mind.

“That is your place,” I said sharply.

“You gave no orders.”

“Nor did I rescind my last order, which was that you march behind the Sagamore.”

“Is that to be the order of march?” he asked.

“What do you mean by questioning your officer?” I demanded.