But he was very glad that he had seen them.

It had been almost as if there were no war.
Dick rode back to the camp, gave his horse to an orderly, and, walking toward his tent, was met by Warner and Pennington, carrying long slender rods on their shoulders--Warner in fact carrying two.
"What's this ?" he exclaimed.
"We're going fishing," replied Warner.

"We've permission for you also.
There's a fine stream about a half mile west of us, running through the woods, and it's been fished in but little since the war started.

Here, take your rod! You don't expect me to carry it for you any longer do you?
It has a good hook and line and it's easy for us to find bait under a big stone on soft soil." "Thank you, George," said Dick happily.

"You couldn't keep me from going with you two.