"I think He would find that difficult, sir," I answered.

"Then there's no hope for me," he answered, laughing, "for I have
observed that fright alone brings a man into a fit spiritual state to
enter heaven. What would you say of those slanderers of Monsieur Cerre?"

Not expecting an answer, he dipped his quill into the ink-pot and turned
to his papers.

"I should say that they owed Monsieur Cerre money," I replied.

The Colonel dropped his quill and stared. As for me, I was puzzled to
know why.

"Egad," said Colonel Clark, "most of us get by hard knocks what you seem
to have been born with." He fell to musing, a worried look coming on his
face that was no stranger to me later, and his hand fell heavily on the
loose pile of paper before him. "Davy," says he, "I need a
commissary-general."

"What would that be, sir," I asked.

"A John Law, who will make something out of nothing, who will make money
out of this blank paper, who will wheedle the Creole traders into
believing they are doing us a favor and making their everlasting fortune
by advancing us flour and bacon."

"And doesn't Congress make money, sir?" I asked.