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"All right!" said Wallop; "I'll put off asking for a rise till next week." I was presumptuous enough to laugh at this, which greatly offended both the magnates. Doubleday ordered me to my desk instantly. "Get on with your work, do you hear? and don't stand grinning there!" "What had I better do?" I inquired, mildly.
The only thing that had made Beadle Square tolerable was his company, and how I should get on now with Mr Horncastle and his set I did not care to anticipate. I confided my misgivings to Doubleday, who laughed at them. "Oh," said he, "you must turn that place up. I know it. One of our fellows was there once. It's an awfully seedy place to belong to."
The very day that witnessed the forming of my resolutions witnessed also the breaking of them. "Hullo, young 'un!" cried Doubleday, as I put in my appearance at the office; "here you are! How are you after it all?" "I'm quite well," said I, in what I intended to be a chilly voice. "That's right. Very brickish of you to have us up. We all thought so, didn't we, Crow?" "Rather," replied Crow.
Heth now commanded on the field for the South and Doubleday for the North. Each general began to rectify his lines and try to see what had happened. The Confederate batteries opened, but did not do much damage, and while the lull continued, more men came for the North. Harry and Dalton had found their way to Heth, who told them to stay with him until Lee came.
Doubleday volunteered to take the places of Captain Seymour and myself, and they took turns in walking the parapet, two hours at a time, in readiness to notify the guard in case the minute-men became more than usually demonstrative. In December the secretary sent another officer of the Inspector-general's Department, Major Don Carlos Buell, to examine and report upon our condition.
She saw only a rough-looking man of great stature, slightly stooped, and with large features burnt to a deep brown. "Hello, Barb," said Bradley, without much enthusiasm. His salutation met with as little: "What's up?" demanded Doubleday. Kate noticed the huskiness in the strong, cold tone. "Brought y' a passenger." From the talk of the night she recognized her father's nickname.
And yet with all the loose talk was mixed up so much of real jollity and good-humour that it was impossible to feel wholly miserable. Doubleday kept up his hospitality to the last. He would stop the best story to make a guest comfortable, and seemed to guess by instinct what everybody wanted. At last the time came for separating, and I rose to go with feelings partly of relief, partly of regret.
But" Kate thought the time for explanation had come "I was not working at the eating-house when you came in there. I am Kate Doubleday and I wanted to save my father that day and I'm not a bit sorry for it." "I suppose, then, I ought to speak out, too. I was sure you were Kate Doubleday soon after I got into the lunch-room that day and I'm not a bit sorry for it.
Doubleday was delegated to take charge of the business end of it, Bok himself was placed in charge of the advertising department, with the publishing details of the two periodicals on his hands. He suddenly found himself directing a stenographer instead of being a stenographer himself. Evidently his apprentice days were over.
"What dugout?" demanded Doubleday. His husky tone seemed to indicate he was cooling a little; the question took her off her guard. "At the old mine bridge." A flash of cunning lighted her father's eyes. The curtain fell instantly, but not before Kate had seen. "When they questioned me," she hurried on, "I told them what had happened. They believed me. They rode with me back to the creek.
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