The photographer was one who made a
specialty of such work, and was connected with a cinematograph company.
"If you have good luck, sir, and become famous," he said, "as your
friend thinks you will, we'll fight your battles over again over there
in the vacant lot; and then we'll work these in, and you'll soon be in
every variety show in the country."
"But I may be mounted on horseback," said Sam.
"That's so," said Cleary. "Can't you get a horse somewhere and take him
on that?"
"We never do that, sir. Here's a saddle. Just sit on it across this
chair, and when the time comes we'll work it in all right. We'll have a
real horse over in the lot." And thus Sam was taken straddling a chair.
They left orders to send copies of the photographs to Homeville,
Slowburgh, and to Miss Hunter who was still at East Point, and the
remainder to _The Lyre_. That very evening they boarded the transport
and at daybreak sailed away over the great ocean. The ship was filled
by various drafts for different regiments and men-of-war. Sam's
regiment was already at the seat of war, but there were several
captains and lieutenants assigned to it on board, as well as thirty or
forty men. Sam felt entirely comfortable again for the first time since
his resignation at East Point. He was in his element, the military
world, once more. Everything was ruled by drum, fife, and bugle.
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