on the firing line by June! Think of that, sir! Why, it'll be another case of Kitchener's first hundred thousand—you'll get chewed up into little bits! Gad, but I envy you! Why, I'll bet a cooky there isn't a fellow in your company who comes out with both legs! It's an opportunity of a life time, sir!"

Had Jeb not been quick enough to know that Marian was closely watching him, he might have cried aloud for the Colonel to be quiet. The old gentleman's enthusiastic words, in contrast to Jeb's earlier vision of gay uniforms, flashing bayonets, flags, soft smiles and dewy eyes, made the picture of actual war take on a thousand new horrors. He felt sick; the next instant he hated himself—but, above all other things, these people must never suspect him!

In the midst of this depression, while he seemed to be standing on a slave-block, while critical eyes bored him for defects, he thought of somebody's prophecy that the war would be over by July. This was a very large straw for Jeb just then, so he grasped it eagerly, summoning another grin and saying with a tremendous effort to keep his voice steady:

"I wouldn't ask for a greater picnic—if we get there in time! But some people think Germany's about done for!"

"That's because Germany wants us to think so." Mr. Strong, still looking out of the window, flung the words over his shoulder. "It's a crafty part of their scheme to bait us—Roger has opened my eyes to that!"

"By gad," the Colonel exclaimed, immensely pleased by the editor's acknowledgment, "the war won't be over until the armies of William the Vile, the Prussian Outcast Emperor, are licked to a frazzle—and that's going to take five million of our men, a hundred billion of our dollars, and a damned sight longer than any year, or two years, or three years; you can bet your last nickel on it!"

Marian gasped, and turned quickly away in order that he might not see her. She had not been as much affected by his words as by another look in Jeb's grinning, sickly face which made her want to run and hide—and cry. She, more than any of those present, could read his expressions like type in a book; yet in all justice to him she had never before seen an indication of cowardice and, impulsively loyal, desiring only to rescue him in time so that the Colonel might not find him out, she swung upon the old fellow's arm, saying gaily:

"He's unhappy thinking he won't get a chance!—that's what's the matter, Uncle Roger!"

But even this new and affectionate title of "Uncle Roger" did not at once penetrate the old gentleman's mind. His eyes, which had been fixed on Jeb with an expression of hopefulness, were now studiously looking at the floor. Rather hysterically, Marian caught the lapels of his coat and put her face directly in his range of vision, crying:

"That's what it is!—I know it, Uncle Roger! Please understand me!"

"Sure, that's what it is," Jeb shouted forcefully, seeing the brink upon which he had been standing, and making an heroic effort to act the part of a man. "Sure it is," he repeated, with even more emphasis. "I don't care how long the darned old war lasts!—it's only how short it might last, that gets my goat!"

Marian was not deceived, but the Colonel, looking as though twenty years had been taken from his shoulders, swallowed it whole and struck the table sharply with his hand.

"By gad!" he cried, in a voice of thunder. "I know it, lad; I know it! For a second—why, by gad, sir!"

Mr. Strong turned from the window.

"What's the matter, Roger?" he asked.

Marian, seeing traces of tears upon his cheeks—and guessing well the reason—affectionately took his hand and pressed it to her lips. But her eyes were staring, somewhat fearfully, at the Colonel, who cleared his throat, looked at her steadily, and answered:

"Nothing, Amos."

"I—I'd better be going now," Jeb suggested, "for Aunt Sallie and Aunt Veemie will want to hear the news."

"Tell them the town will be proud of you, my boy," Mr. Strong gave him a salute; and the Colonel, in his enthusiasm forgetting he had harbored a doubt of Jeb, shouted:

"And tell 'em I wouldn't be surprised if some day we put up a monument to you! When a fellow charges through hails of bullets, each singing him a lullaby, he never knows what instant one will come 'chunk!' into his stomach! Gad, but it's a great game! I envy you, boy! And I'm going to teach you all I know, so you'll be the best prepared officer that ever stepped on foreign soil. You'll know how to lean low while charging, sir, to escape some of the fire—for a man can keep on going with a hole in his arm, or leg, or maybe his face, but protect your stomach, sir! A hole through it brings on nausea, and nine times out of ten you'll have to sit down. Officers don't sit down, sir, till they're knocked down for keeps!"

Jeb had walked to the door, using all of his will power to shut out these words which had so nearly snapped the last thread of his waning courage. Thus far, he felt assured, no one in the room had suspected the turmoil that had well nigh driven him frantic. It was not cowardice, he told himself; merely a loss of self-control—for how could a chap remain calm while the old Colonel was shooting his stomach full of holes? His quick perception of situations made it clear that his exit now must remove whatever vestige of doubt there might have existed in the minds of those behind him, and, turning at the threshold, he laughed boisterously:

"I'll remember everything, Colonel! You just teach me how to do it, and between us the Huns'll get all their hides can hold!" He slammed the door, and was gone.

"I'd forgotten you were such a bloodthirsty old wildcat, Roger," Mr. Strong began to laugh.

"You've had no cause to," the Colonel looked humorously across at him. "But my bark in this case was worse than my bite. I merely wanted to stir the young man's ardor so that he'll be the more keen for a smell of powder. Did you note his eyes sparkling, Amos?—did you, Marian?"

Marian had not stirred during the Colonel's admonitions to Jeb. She had been sitting limply in her father's desk chair, looking at the targets which lay crumpled and forgotten beneath the table. Now she answered listlessly:

"Yes, I noticed it."

Her tone, as well as her attitude, caught the Colonel's attention and sobered him. He glanced toward Amos Strong, who had again turned to the window and, with hands crossed behind his back, was gazing down into the street; then whispered guardedly:

"You mustn't jump at conclusions, my dear little girl. Jeb's the soul of honor, and of courage; he's just a mite unstrung, that's all—why shouldn't he be?"

"Why do you think I'm jumping at conclusions?" she asked, smiling at him. "He ought to make a very fine soldier, and I'm sure he will."

"He will, indeed," the old fellow patted her cheek. "And now let me beg of you, for your dear father's sake, to let the honor of Hillsdale rest with Jeb, and you stay home here with us!"

"Oh, I couldn't stay home," she moved restlessly. "Don't put your plea on old daddy's account—it isn't fair! He has you, now," she added, trying to smile bravely. "Why, Uncle Roger, I was counting on you to support me!"

"There, there! I will, I will! When do you want to start?"

"To-day," she answered, again listlessly.

"To-day?" he cried in astonishment. "Why, my dear child——"

She sprang to her feet, fighting back tears, and faced him.

"Certainly to-day," she said quickly. "Aren't men falling to-day?—suffering and crying for help to-day?