Captain Jinks, Hero Ernest Howard Crosby (best management books of all time TXT) 📖

“Perhaps, dear, I’ll never come back at all. Who knows? I may get killed.”

“Oh, Sam! if you did, how proud I’d be of it. I’d wear black for a whole year, and they’d put up a monument to you over there in the cemetery and have a grand funeral, and I’d be in the first carriage, and the flag would be draped, and the band would play the funeral march. Oh, dear! how grand it would be, and how all the girls would envy me!”

Tears came to her eyes as she spoke.

“Just think of being the fiancée of a hero who died for his country! Oh, Sam, Sam!”

Sam took her in his arms.

“You’re my own brave soldier’s wife,” he said. “I’d be almost ready to die for you, but if I don’t, I’ll come back and marry you. I’ll write to uncle for a commission tonight, and ask his advice about resigning here either now or later. It hardly seems true that I may really go to a real war.” And his tears fell and mingled with hers.

Sam’s uncle fell in readily with Cleary’s scheme. He was a politician and a man of the world, and he saw what an advantage it would be for his nephew to seek promotion in the volunteers, and how much a close friend among the war correspondents could help him. Furthermore, he had heard of Sam’s excellent record at East Point and was disposed to lend him what aid could be derived from his influence with the Administration. When Sam’s father learned that his brother approved of the project, he offered no objection, and a few weeks after Cleary had broached the subject, both of the young men sent in their resignations, and these were accepted. Cleary left at once for the metropolis to perfect his plans, while Sam remained for a few days at the Point to bid farewell to his betrothed. His uncle had at once sent in his name to the War Department as a candidate for colonel of volunteers with letters of recommendation from the most influential men at the Capital. While Sam was still at East Point he saw in the daily paper that his name had been sent in to the Senate as captain of volunteers with a long list of others, and almost immediately he received a telegram from his uncle announcing his confirmation without question. On the same morning came a letter from Cleary telling him to come at once to town and make the final arrangements before receiving orders to join his regiment. We shall draw a veil over the last interview between Sam and Marian. She was proficient in the art of saying farewell, and nothing was lacking on this occasion to contribute to its romantic effect. They parted in tears, but they were tears of hope and joy.

Cleary met Sam at the station in the city and took him to a modest hotel.

“It’s going to be bigger thing than I thought,” he said, as they sat down together for a good talk in the hotel lobby, after Sam had made himself at home in his room. “I’m going to run a whole combination. I’ve got in with a man who’s a real genius. His name’s Jonas. He represents the brewers’ trust, and he’s going out to start saloons with chattel mortgages on the fixtures. It’s a big thing by itself. But then besides that he’s got orders to apply for street-railroad franchises wherever he can get them, and he is going to start agencies to sell typewriters and bicycles and some patent medicines, and I don’t know what else. You see he wanted to represent the Consolidated Press as a sort of business agent, and The Daily Lyre belongs to the Consolidated, and that’s the way I came across him. The fact is he represents pretty much all the capital in the country. It’s a big combination. I’ll boom him and you, and you’ll help us, and then we can get in on the ground floor with him in anything we like. It’s a good outlook, isn’t it, hey? Have you got your commission yet?”

“No,” said Sam, “not yet. My uncle wants me to come and spend a few days with him at Slowburgh to make my acquaintance, and the commission will go there. I’m to be in the 200th Volunteer Infantry. I don’t quite understand all your plans, but I hope I’ll get a chance at real fighting for our country, and I should like to be a great soldier. You know that, Cleary.”

“Yes, old man, I know it, and you will be, if courage and newspapers can do it. I’m sorry you didn’t get a colonelcy, but captain isn’t bad, and we’ll skip you up to general in no time. You’ve always wanted to be a hero, haven’t you? Well, the first chance I get I’ll nickname you ‘Hero’ Jinks, and it’ll stick, I’ll answer for it!”

“Oh! thank you,” said Sam.

“Now, goodbye. I’ll come in for you tomorrow and take you in to see our war editor. He’s a daisy. So long.”

When on the morrow Sam was ushered into the den of the war editor, he was surprised to see what a shabby room it was. The great man was sitting at a desk which was almost hidden under piles of papers, letters, telegrams, and memoranda. The chairs in the room were equally encumbered, and he had to empty the contents of two of them on the floor before Sam and Cleary could sit down.

“Ah, Captain Jinks, glad to see you!” he said.

Sam beamed with delight. It was the first time that he had heard his new title⁠—a title, in fact, to which he had as yet no right.

“I suppose Mr. Cleary has explained to you,” the editor continued, “what our designs are. Editing isn’t what it used to be. It has become a very complicated business. In old times