Listen, the Drum!: A Novel of Washington's First Command. Robert Edmond Alter

right.”

      Stefen laughed and all of them grinned, except Harry who sniffed disdainfully. Even the sour Peyroney looked happy. “Shadrach,” he played with the name vengefully.

      “Officially,” Washington said, “they’ll be posted to Captain Hoag’s company, Mr. Peyroney. But for the moment I want them assigned to special duty.” He turned to the five volunteers.

      “The ponderous wheel of army red tape has us bogged down. I was promised enough wagons and teams to transport the army to the Forks. To date I’ve received only a third of what is required. However, there’s no sense in wasting this waiting period in idle time.” His eyes picked out Harry.

      “As a soldier’s son you undoubtedly realize the value in having an advanced supply depot ready and waiting for an advancing army. This position, Wills Creek, is the starting point. What we need is a halfway station.” He turned to a large map tacked on the board wall.

      “I am desperately short of officers. I need a capable man to lead an advance party, select a site for a supply dump, secure the supplies, and fortify the position if necessary. Can you do that?”

      “Of course,” Harry said promptly.

      It bothered Matt that Harry never once said “sir” to Washington. There was something almost insulting about his lack of respect.

      “You understand this is an impromptu action. I can’t offer you a rating at this time. But perhaps later a field commission might be—”

      “That isn’t necessary,” Harry said.

      Washington nodded and told Peyroney to draw up a requisition. Then, to Harry, “Report to Captain Stephen, Curry,” he ordered. “He’ll arrange your supply train and assign you your men. Dismiss.”

      Harry didn’t offer a salute. He glanced at Matt soberly and walked quickly out of the room. Washington turned to Shad.

      “You’re well acquainted with the wilderness between here and the Forks. I want you to select and blaze a trail for me, keeping as near to the Youghiogheny as possible. Understand that whatever course you decide upon will be used by the army. And remember that we will be transporting cannons and wagons. You may take the ‘twice-removed’ Frenchman and the ‘once-removed’ Scotsman as your assistants.”

      Shad grunted and pawed at his face and blinked at the wall map.

      “I got you, colonel. But you realize that the only known trail is that old traders’ path ’tween here and the Forks, and as a military road it would make a durn fine hairpin for some lady’s coff-your.”

      “Yes, I know. But I hope you can find me something better.”

      Shad’s gorget was on the desk acting as a paperweight, and Shad absent-mindedly picked it up and dropped it into his capacious pocket, oddly enough, just when Washington and Peyroney happened to be studying the map on the wall behind them. Shad grinned at Matt.

      “Well, Matty, it looks like the soft camp life for you. You think of me out in all that rain and muck and whatnot when you’re tucked away cozy-like in one a these nice army cots!”

      “Good luck, Shad,” Matt said sincerely. Then he shook Tammy’s and Stefen’s hands, and they all smiled at each other—though Matt’s smile felt a bit forced. It appeared that Shad was right: all his friends were being sent forth into the wilderness to face unknown adventure, while he was to remain in camp and cool his heels. It was a far cry from his youthful idea of stirring warfare.

      The three new pathfinders saluted Washington and tramped gaily from the room. Matt watched them go with a contrite sense of jealousy. A moment later, at Washington’s request, Peyroney followed them, and the young colonel sat himself behind the desk and smiled at Matt.

      “Well, Burnett, did you think I’d abandoned you?”

      “No sir,” Matt lied politely.

      Washington laughed. “Don’t try to play the proper British officer; it doesn’t suit you. You’re too much like me—we need action, movement, men on the march and hang the consequences!”

      Suddenly he sat up and slapped his hands together fretfully.

      “Sometimes I think this waiting game will drive me to insanity! I’m only second in command, you know. And I’m stuck here until Colonel Fry comes with the remainder of the army. Bogged here with one hundred and fifty untrained men, while swarms of French and Indians are piling up at our backs!” Then he sighed and shrugged it off.

      “Well, we do what we can. I saved you till last because I want you as my courier. I need a man I can trust, a man of intelligence, and a man who knows this wilderness. You best meet the qualifications.

      “You remember Half King? This morning I received one of his wampum runners, with this message: ‘Come to our assistance as soon as possible or we are lost and shall never meet again. I speak it in the grief of my heart.’ ” Washington smiled wryly.

      “What this overly dramatic message actually portends is that the French have been seen embarking on the Allegheny at Venango. So, I have two missions for you: one, find Half King and say to him, ‘Your friend and brother is coming; be strong and patient.’ You see, Burnett, to help Half King is to help ourselves. We’re going to need him . . . need everyone we can lay our hands on, before this is over.”

      “Yes, sir. And the second mission?”

      Washington looked at him soberly. “The second will very possibly drop you right into the lap of the French and Indians. I’m sending you to the Forks of the Ohio, to see if the rumor of the French advance is true or false.”