“Constable. I’m constable, now. I teamed awhile with the army. But they made me come home. Said I was too old.” His face was calm, dissipated and leathery. His sad eyes rested coolly on Dan’s. “And I know more about soldiering than that whole caboodle out there.” He kept chewing and chewing at his match; presently he spat it away, a flattened cud. Out in the field, Bart McKosh jerked his harsh syllables. The feet went nud, nud, nud in Deffenbaughs’ trampled pasturage. John Burns kept grunting left … left … left. He chuckled stonily: “Hay-foot, straw-foot, hay-foot, straw-foot.” He said to Dan, out of the corner of his wrinkled mouth, “I know all that truck. Knowed it for a long time. Teamed awhile down in Maryland, but they sent me home.” Somewhere in the crowd there was a growing murmur. Dark. It’s getting too dark. Can’t see anything.

Those varied, ill-assorted shapes went swinging past, very close. “Hey, Charley,” yelled somebody, “look out. Here come the rebels!” A lot of small boys tittered and echoed the words. Lookout, Charley. I’m a rebel. Boowoowoorr! Boo, I’m a rebel—

John Burns told Dan soberly, “At that, I’ve see worse drilled milishy afore this.” The hand-clapping began again, louder and more sustained. Bart McKosh wailed quah-haw … ult! Boys slid over the fence to approach the shadowy squads. The army broke ranks, and melted across three side of the field.

Over on Deffenbaughs’ porch, the paper lanterns were gay and heathenish; a woman began to ring a dinner bell. The crowd spilled slowly up over the lawn.

A thin totem with a musket in its hand came toward Daniel. “Hi,” said Elijah.

Bale told him, “I was just going to give you a hail.”

Huddlestone put his long leg over the pickets and slid across the fence. People pushed away from them; John Burns was gone; the wheels of light vehicles began to rattle in the road. “Well,” Elijah challenged, “what do you think of it?”

“It was a good drill. Though I don’t know much about drill.”

There was a mighty hauteur in Elijah’s voice. He tossed the gun over his shoulder. “I don’t think we’re so bad … You’d better think it over, Dan.”

“I’ve thought,” said Dan, “for over two years.”

“You going up for ice cream? The Ladies Aid is treating us soldiers.”

Dan said, “No. Too many folks in the way.”

“Mealy and Ma are over on Doc’s porch. Why don’t you come over for a spell?”

“All right.” Bale felt in his pocket, and brought out a fold of paper currency. “While you’re up there, buy some ice cream and cake. Deffenbaughs will lend you a basket or something. For the ladies, you know.”