I admit
it takes right smart of courage to accidentally shoot your fingers
off, specially when nobody is lookin', but at any rate he had a
uniform on when he done it. Course, there wasn't any wars during
your pa's day, so I don't know how he would have acted. He wasn't
much of a feller for fightin', though,--I remember that. I mean fist
fightin'. I'm glad to know you don't take after your granddad. I
never had any use for a coward, and that's why I'm proud to shake
hands with you, my boy. There was a derned bad streak in your family
back in your granddad's day, and it certainly is good to see that
you have wiped it out. It don't always happen so. Yeller streaks
are purty hard to wipe out. Takes more than two generations to do
it as a rule. I'm happy to know you ain't gun shy."
The young man laughed. "I don't mind telling you, Mr. Brown, that
I never went into action without being scared half out of my boots.
But I wasn't alone in that, you see. I never knew a man over there
who wasn't scared when he went over the top. He went, just the
same,--and that's what I call courage."
"So do I," cried Rosabel.
"Did you ever know for sure whether you got a German?" asked the
intense young Caleb. "I mean,--did you ever KILL one?"
"That's pretty hard to say, Cale. We never knew, you see,--we
fellows up in the clouds. I was in a bombing machine.
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