The Bounty-Jumperby Mary Synon
Format of Original Source: Short Story
Recommended Adaptation Length: 30 Minutes
Candidate for Adaptation? Not Reviewed
I left Chicago that night with a great thrill. I was going to fight for a great cause, for Abraham Lincoln’s great dream, for the country my father had died for in Mexico, that my grandfather had fought for at Lundy’s Lane. I think, he said, “that if I might have gone right down to the fighting, I’d have stood the test. But when I came to Tennessee the regiment had gone stale. We waited, and waited. Every day I lost a little interest. Every day the routine dragged a little harder. I had time to see what opportunities I had left back here in Chicago. I wasn’t afraid of the fighting. But the sheer hatred of what I came to call the uselessness of war gnawed at my soul. I kept thinking of the ways in which I might shape my destiny if only I were free. I kept thinking of the thousand roads to wealth, to personal success, that Chicago held for me. One night I took my chance. I slipped past the lines.”
“Father!” The boy’s voice throbbed with pain. His eyes, dilated with horror at the realization of the older man’s admission, fixed their gaze accusingly on James Thorold. “You weren’t a–a deserter?” He breathed the word fearfully.
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