men, gathered to watch the show. The best point seemed to be awarded to a special little group—
"Say! We'll have to take another," Hannibal exclaimed. "There's General Scott, again—and his engineers, too. We'll get as close as we can. Wait. They're coming down. You mind your eye and I'll show you a fine officer." The group, with the commanding figure of General Scott to the fore, gazing through glasses, seemed about to leave. "You see that officer who's just turned our way? Talking to another officer? He's Captain Robert E. Lee, of the engineers, on Scott's staff. He laid out these trenches and batteries—he's the smartest engineer in the army. The officer he's talking to is Lieutenant George B. McClellan, graduated from West Point only last summer. I know him—I knew him when we all were under Old Zach, in the north of Mexico, before we came here with Fuss and Feathers. He's smart, too, but he gets funny sometimes. Captain Lee is the smartest of all."
Upon leaving their hill the group passed nearer. Jerry might see that Captain Lee was a slender, dark-eyed, handsome young officer; Lieutenant McClellan was not so good-looking—had a long nose and a pinched face, and a careless, happy-go-lucky manner; was slight of build. General Scott towered over them all. What a giant of a man he was—and with what a voice when he spoke in measured sentences!
They mounted horses held by orderlies, and cantered away, probably for headquarters where General Scott's large tent stood, back of the First Division camp.
