The Fort Read Free Page B

rations and pay for thirty nonexistent men, and General Ward now required Wadsworth to make inquiries into the substance of the allegation.
    Wadsworth read the message a second time, then dismissed the children and beckoned Todd to walk with him toward the Burying Ground. “General Ward is well?” he asked politely. Artemas Ward commanded the Massachusetts Militia.
    “He’s well enough,” Todd answered, “other than some pains in the legs.”
    “He grows old,” Wadsworth said, and for a dutiful moment the two men exchanged news of births, marriages, illnesses, and deaths, the small change of a community. They had paused in the shade of an elm and after a while Wadsworth gestured with the letter. “It seems strange to me,” he said carefully, “that a major should bring such a trivial message.”
    “Trivial?” Todd asked sternly, “we are talking of peculation, General.”
    “Which, if true, will have been recorded in the muster returns. Does it require a general to inspect the books? A clerk could do that.”
    “A clerk has done that,” Todd said grimly, “but a clerk’s name on the official report bears no weight.”
    Wadsworth heard the grimness. “And you seek weight?” he asked.
    “General Ward would have the matter investigated thoroughly,” Todd answered firmly, “and you are the Adjutant-General of the Militia, which makes you responsible for the good discipline of the forces.”
    Wadsworth flinched at what he regarded as an impertinent and unnecessary reminder of his duties, but he let the insolence pass unreproved. Todd had the reputation of being a thorough and diligent man, but Wadsworth also recalled a rumor that Major William Todd and Lieutenant-Colonel Paul Revere nurtured a strong dislike of each other. Todd had served with Revere in the artillery, but had resigned in protest at the regiment’s disorganization, and Wadsworth suspected that Todd was using his new position to strike at his old enemy, and Wadsworth liked it not. “Colonel Revere,” he spoke mildly, though with deliberate provocation, “enjoys a reputation as a fine and fervent patriot.”
    “He is a dishonest man,” Todd retorted vehemently.
    “If wars were fought only by the honest,” Wadsworth said, “then we would surely have perpetual peace?”
    “You’re acquainted with Colonel Revere, sir?” Todd asked.
    “I cannot claim more than an acquaintance,” Wadsworth said.
    Todd nodded, as if that was the proper answer. “Your reputation, General,” he said, “is unassailable. If you prove peculation, then not a man in Massachusetts will dispute the verdict.”
    Wadsworth glanced at the message again. “Just thirty men?” he asked dubiously. “You’ve ridden from Boston for such a small affair?”
    “It’s not far to ride,” Todd said defensively, “and I have business in Plymouth, so it was convenient to wait on you.”
    “If you have business, Major,” Wadsworth said, “then I won’t detain you.” Courtesy demanded that he at least offer Todd some refreshment and Wadsworth was a courteous man, but he was annoyed at being implicated in what he strongly suspected was a private feud.
    “There is talk,” Todd remarked as the two men walked back across the common, “of an attack on Canada.”
    “There is always talk of an attack on Canada,” Wadsworth said with some asperity.
    “If such an attack occurs,” Todd said, “we would want our artillery commanded by the best available man.”
    “I would assume,” Wadsworth said, “that we would desire that whether we march on Canada or not.”
    “We need a man of probity,” Todd said.
    “We need a man who can shoot straight,” Wadsworth said brusquely and wondered whether Todd aspired to command the artillery regiment himself, but he said nothing more. His wife was waiting beside the hitching post with a glass of water that Todd accepted gratefully before riding south towards Plymouth. Wadsworth went indoors and showed Elizabeth the letter.