"That's it," said Bladburn, hurriedly, "that's why I want to talk with you. I 've a fancy that I sha' n't come out of our first battle."
The words gave me a queer start, for I had been trying several days to throw off a similar presentiment concerning him--a foolish presentiment that grew out of a dream.
"In case anything of that kind turns up," he continued, "I 'd like you to have my Latin grammar here--you 've seen me reading it. You might stick it away in a bookcase, for the sake of old times. It goes against me to think of it falling into rough hands or being kicked about camp and trampled underfoot."
He was drumming softly with his fingers on the volume in the bosom of his blouse.
"I did n't