THE ANGEL OF
President. At Cold Harbor his regiment stood in hell all day; he was one of those who pinned his name to his coat so his body could be identified—after the charge. Well, in that charge the flag went down, and a man went out to get it—and he fell; then another—and he fell; and then a thin, pale fellow that the doctors almost refused sprang forward like a panther—and he fell. 'They were askin' for a volunteer when a staff officer called out: "Good God! He's alive! He's got it! He's crawlin' back!'
"They had to lift him off the colors; he didn't know anything, . . . and that was my boy, Mr. President—that was Dick!
"Funny how he enlisted," Dale resumed after a moment. "He'd been tryin' to get in, but I kept him out.
[36]
