too
an artilleryman. You're facing British regulars here, Captain, not wild savages."
Mention of "wild savages" drew the accountant's skeptical eyes to Sam's small group of companions.
Fortunately, Sequoyah and the Ridge children had donned American clothing that morning. Unfortunately, the Rogers brothers had done no such thing. James hadn't even bothered to tuck away his beloved war club.
Tiana Rogers was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, she too had outfitted herself in American apparel for the occasion. On the other hand, the big girl was far too imposing and good-looking, in her exotic way, not to draw attention to herself.
Skepticism was growing rapidly in the accountant's expression. Sam drew himself up haughtily.
"A delegation from the Cherokee Nation, sent here expressly by General Jackson. Even includes two of their princesses."
Nancy Ridge looked suitably solemn and demure.
Tiana, alas, grinned like a hoyden.
Best to distract the accountant, Sam thought hurriedly. He pointed a finger at John Ross, whose appearance and uniform made him look like a white man. "Lieutenant Ross here is a wizard with artillery, sir. Very experienced with the big guns."
John's eyes widened. Sam ignored him and pressed forward.
"Oh, yes," he said, chuckling. "General Jackson gave him no choice in the matter, seeing as how the lieutenant can't hit the broad side of a barn with a pistol or a musket. But give him a proper-size gun—!"
Wide as saucers.
Forward, ever forward.
"Indeed so. Ross is murderous with the big guns. He'll wreak havoc upon the enemy, Mr. Simmons, be sure of it! Grapeshot is his preferred ball, of course."
Then, Sam decided it was time to add a modicum of truth to the matter. Just a pinch.
"Look, Mr. Simmons," he said softly, almost conspiratorially. "I don't honestly know
Mention of "wild savages" drew the accountant's skeptical eyes to Sam's small group of companions.
Fortunately, Sequoyah and the Ridge children had donned American clothing that morning. Unfortunately, the Rogers brothers had done no such thing. James hadn't even bothered to tuck away his beloved war club.
Tiana Rogers was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, she too had outfitted herself in American apparel for the occasion. On the other hand, the big girl was far too imposing and good-looking, in her exotic way, not to draw attention to herself.
Skepticism was growing rapidly in the accountant's expression. Sam drew himself up haughtily.
"A delegation from the Cherokee Nation, sent here expressly by General Jackson. Even includes two of their princesses."
Nancy Ridge looked suitably solemn and demure.
Tiana, alas, grinned like a hoyden.
Best to distract the accountant, Sam thought hurriedly. He pointed a finger at John Ross, whose appearance and uniform made him look like a white man. "Lieutenant Ross here is a wizard with artillery, sir. Very experienced with the big guns."
John's eyes widened. Sam ignored him and pressed forward.
"Oh, yes," he said, chuckling. "General Jackson gave him no choice in the matter, seeing as how the lieutenant can't hit the broad side of a barn with a pistol or a musket. But give him a proper-size gun—!"
Wide as saucers.
Forward, ever forward.
"Indeed so. Ross is murderous with the big guns. He'll wreak havoc upon the enemy, Mr. Simmons, be sure of it! Grapeshot is his preferred ball, of course."
Then, Sam decided it was time to add a modicum of truth to the matter. Just a pinch.
"Look, Mr. Simmons," he said softly, almost conspiratorially. "I don't honestly know