The detail was a success in the eyes of the army, but to Jess it was the biggest failure of his life. Even as his wound healed he thought about how he had let his hot temper run away with him, and he knew that he would never live down his shame. He couldn't even look at Sergeant Yuma and did all that he could to avoid him. He even found that it was growing increasingly harder to face Rowdy, and they both seemed unable to discuss the embarrassing incident.

Finally Jess knew he had to do something to relieve the awful, churning guilt inside. It's one thing to do wrong and be reprimanded for it. It's quite another to do wrong and be rewarded for it. Jess's tender conscience couldn't be comfortable with undeserved praise. And, even worse, it was clear that Sergeant Yuma hadn't said anything about his insubordination to anyone.

The word made its way around camp that they were going to attack the Union forces the next day. It was now or never.

"Rowdy, I'm going to talk to that sergeant," Jess told his friend after he had hunted him down in the dark. "He must think so little of me right now that nothing I can say would make it worse. Maybe it would make me feel better, though." Nodding, Rowdy said quietly,

"Yeah, I've had this sick feeling inside ever since, knowing that even after what we did he still saved our hides." Jess sent his friend a half smile and slapped his arm.

"Wish me luck, Pard." Rowdy threw a sympathetic smile of his own back as Jess turned to go.

It took him some time to find the sergeant, but after a while he saw the slight man with the blonde hair seated with several of the other soldiers around a campfire. The flickering flames gave only the slightest illumination to the scene, but Jess could see the sergeant smiling at something one of the men had said. Without hesitation, Jess walked up behind him and said firmly,

"I need to talk to you." Immediately Sergeant Yuma's smile dimmed and he turned to look up at this fiery, dark-haired boy who had so recently let his grudge carry him too far. Slowly he rose from his seat.

"Well?" he asked in his soft voice that belied the fire within. Looking around, Jess said,

"Can we go somewhere more private?" Yuma let his gaze rest on the young man's face for a moment, trying to read what the rebellious private wanted. Then, getting only a few answers, he nodded and led the way away from the crowd of men. When they reached a secluded clump of trees, the sergeant stopped and turned to Jess, waiting for him to start. Wilson's Creek gurgled nearby.

It took the boy a moment, staring at the ground, but finally he began to put his thoughts into words. "Sergeant, there's not much I can say but that I'm a fool. I'm the biggest fool that's ever been. I put the whole detail in danger, just because of my hot temper and wanting revenge against you. There's no excuse for that. I'd have gotten what I deserved if that Yankee bullet had found my heart instead of my shoulder." At this point he risked a glance at the sergeant's face, but it remained impassive. "I'm going to the General and I'm going to tell him what really happened. I just wanted you to know that. You don't have to cover up for me anymore." He began to walk away without another glance at Yuma, but the sergeant called evenly,

"Harper?" This stopped the boy in his tracks, but he couldn't bring himself to turn around.

"Yes, Sergeant?" He heard the footsteps of the sergeant coming towards him, so he finally made himself turn around. Once the sergeant stopped, he said softly,

"You can call me Johnny. Everyone else does." Jess felt a smile creeping over his face, and he said awkwardly,

"I'm Jess." No smile appeared on Johnny's face, but something kind softened the hardness he had learned to wear.

"I don't think there's any reason for you to tell the General what happened. We got the information we were asked to get, and that's all that anyone needs to know. Whatever else happened doesn't matter now." Jess nodded gratefully, and after a long pause he answered,

"Thanks, Johnny." As he made his way back to his tent, he felt as if a weight had lifted. Or, he felt like someone who has been reborn, freed of all his guilt. Not even the prospect of the maggoty soup that he knew he would get for dinner nor the drizzle that began to fall could dampen his spirits.

However, his high spirits began to ebb as he heard a commotion coming from the area where he and Rowdy had pitched their tents. As he drew closer, he saw a group of men, many whom he recognized as rabble-rousers and unsavory characters, all gathered in a circle around someone. It took a few more steps before Jess realized that the person in the middle was Rowdy. A simultaneous sickness and anger washed over him, and he charged forward.

"Drink up, Boy," someone drawled and laughed savagely. The men were holding Rowdy's hands behind him, while one of them had forced a bottle to his lips. He squirmed and struggled to escape, but they were stronger than he was. He had just started to choke on the alcohol when Jess reached the crowd. His fists started flying even before he was within reach of any of the men. In a whirl of rage, Jess must have seemed like a perfect storm of dark curls and righteous indignation. For such a small body, he housed great power. The men's original target was momentarily forgotten in the face of this new attack.

After Rowdy had stopped coughing and began to recover himself, he pulled himself up to join the fight. By this time Jess had been outnumbered and several men were holding him between them, waiting for the leader of the crew to take his best shot. Rowdy tackled the man and they went sprawling on the ground. This gave Jess a chance to break loose and caused the group to break into a confused mass of flying fists.

Onto this scene came Sergeant Yuma, who had heard the commotion and came to investigate. "Break it off, men!" He shouted, but his quiet voice was lost in the melee. Seeing that he couldn't stop them with his voice, he waded into the fight himself, trying to stop them by force. Like Jess, his short stature and wiry build often fooled people into believing that he was weak, but also like Jess, he knew how to handle himself in a fight. Before too long, the men realized that they had picked their targets poorly, and those that were able to gradually withdrew. Several more were left lying on the ground, moaning in pain. Only Jess, Rowdy, and Johnny stood tall, panting but still on their feet.

Rowdy glanced across at Jess and threw him a boyish grin in spite of his quickly purpling face. Jess returned it as he surveyed their handiwork. The men who had gathered to watch the spectacle quickly dispersed, but not before Jess had caught a glimpse of Rowdy's brother Nathaniel. The older boy had a look of contempt on his face, and he shook his head as he turned away. Jess wasn't sure if Rowdy had seen him or not and hoped he hadn't.

Whatever Rowdy had seen, he suddenly realized that the sergeant who had come to their aid was the same one who had taken them out on detail the day before. "Sergeant Yuma!" he gasped.

"Private Yates," Johnny returned with a grin. "Brawling again, are you?" Rowdy's high spirits began to deflate.

"Yes, sir, I guess I am."

"Adding credence to your new name?" Rowdy wasn't sure he knew what 'credence' meant and looked across at Jess for help. However, the sergeant let out a laugh. "I know you didn't start this fight, Yates, so I won't report it to the General." Then, with a slight wink, he added, "Anyways, I haven't had that much fun in a while." A slow grin began to spread across Rowdy's face as Johnny slapped him on the shoulder and began to walk away.

Turning to Jess, Rowdy wondered aloud, "What happened when you talked to him?"

"I reckon he's a real great guy," Jess said, looking curiously in the direction the sergeant had disappeared. "He said there was no need to mention the incident to the General, since the mission was a success." The boys shared a mutually relieved look and started to head into their tents.

Before they could make it, they were interrupted by Jim Farr, a dark-haired, middle-aged private they had exchanged a few words with before. He was visibly excited, and he didn't wait for them to ask why.

"Did you hear? Did you hear?" Jess shook his head, and Rowdy asked,

"Hear what?"

"We're not going to attack in the morning! This rain's made Ol' Man McCulloch change his mind. Whaddya think of that?" Jess, whose energy and love of a conflict never abated, was not nearly as excited at the loss of some action as Farr was.

"Guess I'll enjoy getting some extra sleep," he mumbled sullenly. Rowdy, who had also been looking forward to a change of pace in the dull camp life, scowled at the sky and said in frustration,

"Rain sure can ruin everything." Jim Farr shook his head in disbelief.

"Wel, if y'all are so all-fired set on gettin' killed, don't let me stop ya! There'll be plenty more opportunities, you can bet on that." Then, hurrying to his tent to get out of the steadily increasing rainfall, he left the boys to fend for themselves, and they quickly followed his example to their own tents.