He's a coward and he's been scared ever since he found out that you wa'n't foolin' about this bein' a genu-_ine_, dangerous piece of work, an' I'll bet he's cut his lucky, an' gone home, an' if ever I get back there I'll pull his nose for a sneak, you just see if I don't." "Very well," said Sam, "go to sleep again, then.

If he has gone home it is a good riddance of very bad rubbish." Sam was not by any means satisfied that Jake had gone home, however.
Indeed he was pretty well convinced that he had done nothing of the sort, and he wished for a chance to think, so that he might determine what was best to be done.

He believed Jake would not dare to go home as a deserter, knowing very well what reputation he would have to bear ever afterward, in a community in which personal courage was held to be the first of the virtues, and the lack of it the worst possible vice.

Where had he gone, then, and for what?
Sam did not know, but he had an opinion on the subject which grew stronger and stronger the more he revolved the matter in his mind.
Jake Elliott, he knew, had a personal grudge against him, and no very kindly feeling for the other boys.

He was confessedly afraid to continue in the service in which he was engaged, and it was not easy for him to quit it.