The Incredible William Bowles. Joseph J. Millard

      “It’s Frederick County, Maryland.”

      “Oh, the devil!” Kearny said, and threw down the quill so hard that ink spattered across the sheet. “I might have known. You’re not for me, William. I’m signing only Pennsylvania lads, more’s the pity.

      But Colonel James Chalmers is forming a Maryland Loyalist Corps.” He raised his voice. “Oh, Colonel! Colonel Chalmers! Here’s a likely looking one for your new outfit.”

      A youthful-looking officer in a uniform shortcoat of bright green got up from a nearby table and came over, studying Will as he approached. Kearny squinted at his spattered sheet. “Name’s William Augustus Bowles, age sixteen, home Frederick County, Colonel.”

      “Good, good. What brought you here, William? The five-dollar bounty or an urge to fight?”

      “To fight,” Will said through his teeth: “I’ve got personal reasons for wanting to hurt the rebels as hard and as often as I can. A hundred of their measly hides wouldn’t pay back for what they’ve done to me and mine.”

      “You’ll get plenty of chance, boy,” Chalmers said. He snatched one of the forms and scribbled a brief note on the back. “You know where Commissioners’ Hall is, around on Third? Take this note to Captain Forsythe there. He’ll put you on the muster roll and fit you out with the necessaries.”

      Will found the hall swarming with British officers and ringed by lines of civilians, come to beg favors, sell produce, or tattle on neighbors for spite. He found Captain Forsythe in a cubbyhole office, hunched over a table piled high with papers. He was a slender young man with a thin, effeminate face and wavy blond hair. At first look Will felt an instinctive, unreasoning dislike for the slim dandy.

      He looked up at Will’s entrance and his nose wrinkled. “Oh, no! Not another one of his bumbling Continentals, full of wind and thunder instead of guts and wits. I suppose you figure to grab the bounty and skip without serving your term.”

      Will restrained himself with an effort and held out the paper. “Colonel Chalmers said to give you this note.”

      “The first thing you learn in the army,” Forsythe barked, “is to say ‘sir’ when speaking to an officer.”

      “Yes, sir.” Will forced the words through clenched teeth.

      The captain glanced at the note and tossed it aside. “As if I didn’t already have more than enough to do.” He fumbled around for a form, then paused to sharpen his quill. A chair stood beside the table and Will dropped into it. Forsythe shouted, “On your feet, bumpkin!”

      Startled, Will jumped up, standing uncertainly by the table. Forsythe sneered, “Your second lesson is never to sit in the presence of an officer without his permission. Now straighten up and try to look like a soldier, and get your answers out loud and lively.”

      By heroic effort, Will managed to keep his temper until the form was completed. When he finished signing the muster roll book, Forsythe sneered, “Well, well, a Colonial who can write his name. That’s a rare accomplishment in this godforsaken land of clods and savages.” He leaned back, smirking nastily. “Now I presume you expect me to hand over the five dollars, which was your only reason for enlisting, of course.”

      A hot and heedless anger exploded in Will’s veins. With a snarl of fury he lunged across the table, caught Forsythe by the stock and shook him so violently that his wig slipped over one ear.

      “Damn you and your five dollars and your tilt-nose sneers,” he choked. “I enlisted to fight rebels, not lick the boots of a sissy pup.”

      He let go and straightened, breathing heavily and shaking with the intensity of his anger. Suddenly the door opened and Colonel Chalmers looked in.

      “Everything going smoothly, Captain?”

      Will had never seen a man’s face change so swiftly. The hot rage vanished behind a bright smile and Forsythe’s voice was butter smooth. “Why, everything’s just perfect, Colonel, sir. I feel certain that we’ll make a crack soldier out of Mister Bowles in record time.”

      “Good. I’m glad to have you with us, Bowles. Captain, I’ll be at my desk if needed.” He saluted and turned away.

      The thud of the closing door brought another lightning change. Forsythe whirled on Will, his face chalk-white, his eyes glittering.

      “Yes, Mister Bowles, we’re glad to have you with us, and none more than myself. We’re going to have many jolly times together, just you and I, in the next two years. I know I shall enjoy them enormously, though I have the strangest feeling that you may not.”