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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag, by Homer Greene
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Flag
+
+Author: Homer Greene
+
+Release Date: April 26, 2008 [EBook #25188]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Chris Logan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FLAG
+
+By
+
+HOMER GREENE
+
+
+Author of
+"The Unhallowed Harvest,"
+"Pickett's Gap," "The Blind Brother," etc.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+PHILADELPHIA
+GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+_Copyright, 1917
+George W. Jacobs & Company_
+
+_All rights reserved
+Printed in U. S. A._
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: He Glared Defiantly About Him]
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+
+    He Glared Defiantly About Him                       _Frontispiece_
+
+    Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up,
+    But Failed to Find the Place                        _Facing p. 54_
+
+    Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of
+    His Brave Platoon                                       "      274
+
+    The French Hospital's Greeting to the
+    American Colonel                                        "      316
+
+
+
+
+THE FLAG
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Snow everywhere; freshly fallen, white and beautiful. It lay unsullied
+on the village roofs, and, trampled but not yet soiled, in the village
+streets. The spruce trees on the lawn at Bannerhall were weighted with
+it, and on the lawn itself it rested, like an ermine blanket, soft and
+satisfying. Down the steps of the porch that stretched across the
+front of the mansion, a boy ran, whistling, to the street.
+
+He was slender and wiry, agile and sure-footed. He had barely reached
+the gate when the front door of the square, stately old brick house
+was opened and a woman came out on the porch and called to him.
+
+"Pen!"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Millicent." He turned to listen to her.
+
+"Pen, don't forget that your grandfather's going to New York on the
+five-ten train, and that you are to be at the station to see him off."
+
+"I won't forget, auntie."
+
+"And then come straight home."
+
+"Straight as a string, Aunt Milly."
+
+"All right! Good-by!"
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+He passed through the gate, and down the street toward the center of
+the village. It was the noon recess and he was on his way back to
+school where he must report at one-fifteen sharp. He had an abundance
+of time, however, and he stopped in front of the post-office to talk
+with another boy about the coasting on Drake's Hill. It was while he
+was standing there that some one called to him from the street. Seated
+in an old-fashioned cutter drawn by an old gray horse were an old man
+and a young woman. The woman's face flushed and brightened, and her
+eyes shone with gladness, as Pen leaped from the sidewalk and ran
+toward her.
+
+"Why, mother!" he cried. "I didn't expect to see you. Are you in for a
+sleigh-ride?"
+
+She bent over and kissed him and patted his cheek before she replied,
+
+"Yes, dearie. Grandpa had to come to town; and it's so beautiful after
+the snow that I begged to come along."
+
+Then the old man, round-faced and rosy, with a fringe of gray whiskers
+under his chin, and a green and red comforter about his neck, reached
+out a mittened hand and shook hands with Pen.
+
+"Couldn't keep her to hum," he said, "when she seen me hitchin' up old
+Charlie."
+
+He laughed good-naturedly and tucked the buffalo-robe in under him.
+
+"How's grandma?" asked Pen.
+
+"Jest about as usual," was the reply. "When you comin' out to see us?"
+
+"I don't know. Maybe a week from Saturday. I'll see."
+
+Then Pen's mother spoke again.
+
+"You were going to school, weren't you? We won't keep you. Give my
+love to Aunt Millicent; and come soon to see us."
+
+She kissed him again; the old man clicked to his horse, and succeeded,
+after some effort, in starting him, and Pen returned to the sidewalk
+and resumed his journey toward school.
+
+It was noticeable that no one had spoken of Colonel Butler, the
+grandfather with whom Pen lived at Bannerhall on the main street of
+Chestnut Hill. There was a reason for that. Colonel Butler was Pen's
+paternal grandfather; and Colonel Butler's son had married contrary to
+his father's wish. When, a few years later, the son died, leaving a
+widow and an only child, Penfield, the colonel had so far relented as
+to offer a home to his grandson, and to provide an annuity for the
+widow. She declined the annuity for herself, but accepted the offer of
+a home for her son. She knew that it would be a home where, in charge
+of his aunt Millicent, her boy would receive every advantage of care,
+education and culture. So she kissed him good-by and left him there,
+and she herself, ill, penniless and wretched, went back to live with
+her father on the little farm at Cobb's Corners, five miles away. But
+all that was ten years before, and Pen was now fourteen. That he had
+been well cared for was manifest in his clothing, his countenance,
+his bearing and his whole demeanor as he hurried along the partly
+swept pavement toward his destination.
+
+A few blocks farther on he overtook a school-fellow, and, as they
+walked together, they discussed the war.
+
+For war had been declared. It had not only been declared, it was in
+actual progress.
+
+Equipped and generalled, stubborn and aggressive, the opposing forces
+had faced each other for weeks. Yet it had not been a sanguinary
+conflict. Aside from a few bruised shins and torn coats and missing
+caps, there had been no casualties worth mentioning. It was not a
+country-wide war. It was, indeed, a war of which no history save this
+veracious chronicle, gives any record.
+
+The contending armies were composed of boys. And the boys were
+residents, respectively, of the Hill and the Valley; two villages,
+united under the original name of Chestnut Hill, and so closely joined
+together that it would have been impossible for a stranger to tell
+where one ended and the other began. The Hill, back on the plateau,
+had the advantage of age and the prestige that wealth gives. The
+Valley, established down on the river bank when the railroad was built
+through, had the benefit of youth and the virtue of aggressiveness.
+Yet they were mutually interdependent. One could not have prospered
+without the aid of the other. When the new graded-school building was
+erected, it was located on the brow of the hill in order to
+accommodate pupils from both villages. From that time the boys who
+lived on the hill were called Hilltops, and those who lived in the
+valley were called Riverbeds. Just when the trouble began, or what was
+the specific cause of it, no one seemed exactly to know. Like Topsy,
+it simply grew. With the first snow of the winter came the first
+physical clash between the opposing forces of Hilltops and Riverbeds.
+It was a mild enough encounter, but it served to whet the appetites of
+the young combatants for more serious warfare. Miss Grey, the
+principal of the school, was troubled and apprehensive. She had
+encouraged a friendly rivalry between the two sets of boys in matters
+of intellectual achievement, but she greatly deprecated such a state
+of hostility as would give rise to harsh feelings or physical
+violence. She knew that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to
+coerce them into peace and harmony, so she set about to contrive some
+method by which the mutual interest of the boys could be aroused and
+blended toward the accomplishment of a common object.
+
+The procuring of an American flag for the use of the school had long
+been talked of, and it occurred to her now that if she could stimulate
+a friendly rivalry among her pupils, in an effort to obtain funds for
+the purchase of a flag, it might divert their minds from thoughts of
+hostility to each other, into channels where a laudable competition
+would be provocative of harmony. So she decided, after consultation
+with the two grade teachers, to prepare two subscription blanks, each
+with its proper heading, and place them respectively in the hands of
+Penfield Butler captain of the Hilltops, and Alexander Sands commander
+of the Riverbeds. The other pupils would be instructed to fall in
+behind these leaders and see which party could obtain, not necessarily
+the most money, but the largest number of subscriptions. She felt
+that interest in the flag would be aroused by the numbers contributing
+rather than by the amount contributed. It was during the session of
+the school that afternoon that she made the announcement of her plan,
+and delivered the subscription papers to the two captains. She aroused
+much enthusiasm by the little speech she made, dwelling on the beauty
+and symbolism of the flag, and the patriotic impulse that would be
+aroused and strengthened by having it always in sight.
+
+No one questioned the fact that Pen Butler was the leader of the
+Hilltops, nor did any one question the similar fact that Aleck Sands
+was the leader of the Riverbeds. There had never been any election or
+appointment, to be sure, but, by common consent and natural selection,
+these two had been chosen in the beginning as commanders of the
+separate hosts.
+
+When, therefore, the subscription blanks were put into the hands of
+these boys as leaders, every one felt that nothing would be left
+undone by either to win fame and honor for his party in the matter of
+the flag.
+
+So, when the afternoon session of school closed, every one had
+forgotten, for the time being at least, the old rivalry, and was ready
+to enlist heartily in the new one.
+
+There was fine coasting that day on Drake's Hill. The surface of the
+road-bed, hard and smooth, had been worn through in patches, but the
+snow-fall of the night before had so dressed it over as to make it
+quite perfect for this exhilarating winter sport.
+
+As he left the school-house Pen looked at his watch, a gift from his
+grandfather Butler on his last birthday, and found that he would have
+more than half an hour in which to enjoy himself at coasting before it
+would be necessary to start for the railroad station to see Colonel
+Butler off on the train. So, with his companions, he went to Drake's
+Hill. It was fine sport indeed. The bobs had never before descended so
+swiftly nor covered so long a stretch beyond the incline. But, no
+matter how fascinating the sport, Pen kept his engagement in mind and
+intended to leave the hill in plenty of time to meet it. There were
+especial reasons this day why he should do so. In the first place
+Colonel Butler would be away from home for nearly a week, and it had
+always been Pen's custom to see his grandfather off on a journey, even
+though he were to be gone but a day. And in the next place he wanted
+to be sure to get Colonel Butler's name at the head of his flag
+subscription list. This would doubtless be the most important
+contribution to be made to the fund.
+
+At half-past four he decided to take one more ride and then start for
+the station. But on that ride an accident occurred. The bobs on which
+the boys were seated collapsed midway of the descent, and threw the
+coasters into a heap in the ditch. None of them was seriously hurt,
+though the loose stones among which they were thrown were not
+sufficiently cushioned by the snow to prevent some bruises, and
+abrasions of the skin. Of course there was much confusion and
+excitement. There was scrambling, and rubbing of hurt places, and an
+immediate investigation into the cause of the wreck. In the midst of
+it all Pen forgot about his engagement. When the matter did recur to
+his mind he glanced at his watch and found that it lacked but twelve
+minutes of train time. It would be only by hard sprinting and rare
+good luck that he would be able to reach the station in time to see
+his grandfather off. Without a word of explanation to his fellows he
+started away on a keen run. They looked after him in open-mouthed
+wonder. They could not conceive what had happened to him. One boy
+suggested that he had been frightened out of his senses by the shock
+of the accident; and another that he had struck his head against a
+rock and had gone temporarily insane, and that he ought to be followed
+to see that he did no harm to himself. But no one offered to go on
+such a mission, and, after watching the runner out of sight, they
+turned their attention again to the wrecked bobs.
+
+Aleck Sands went straight from school to his home in the valley. There
+were afternoon chores to be done, and he was anxious to finish them as
+soon as possible in order that he might start out with his
+subscription paper.
+
+He did not hope to equal Pen in the amount of contributions, for he
+had no wealthy grandfather on whom to depend, but he did intend to
+excel him in the number of subscribers. And it was desirable that he
+should be early in the field.
+
+It was almost dusk when he started from home to go to the grist-mill
+of which his father was the proprietor. He wanted to get his father's
+signature first, both as a matter of policy and as a matter of filial
+courtesy.
+
+As he approached the railroad station, which it was necessary for him
+to pass on his way to the mill, he saw Colonel Butler pacing up and
+down the platform which faced the town, and, at every turn, looking
+anxiously up the street.
+
+It was evident that the colonel was waiting for the train, and it was
+just as evident that he was expecting some one, probably Pen, to come
+to the station to see him off. And Pen was nowhere in sight.
+
+A brilliant and daring thought entered Aleck's mind. While,
+ordinarily, he was neither brilliant nor daring, yet he was
+intelligent, quick and resourceful. He was always ready to meet an
+emergency. The idea that had taken such sudden possession of him was
+nothing more nor less than an impulse to solicit Colonel Butler for a
+subscription to the flag fund and thus forestall Pen. And why not? He
+knew of nothing to prevent. Pen had no exclusive right to
+subscriptions from the Hill, any more than he, Aleck, had to
+subscriptions from the Valley. And if he could be first to obtain a
+contribution from Colonel Butler, the most important citizen of
+Chestnut Hill, if not of the whole county, what plaudits would he not
+receive from his comrades of the Riverbeds?
+
+Having made up his mind he was not slow to act. He was already within
+fifty feet of the platform on which the gray-mustached and stern-faced
+veteran of the civil war was impatiently marching up and down. An
+empty sleeve was pinned to the breast of the old soldier's coat; but
+he stood erect, and his steps were measured with soldierly precision.
+He had stopped for a moment to look, with keener scrutiny, up the
+street which led to the station. Aleck stepped up on the platform and
+approached him.
+
+"Good evening, Colonel Butler!" he said.
+
+The man turned and faced him.
+
+"Good evening, sir!" he replied. "You have somewhat the advantage of
+me, sir."
+
+"My name is Aleck Sands," explained the boy. "My father has the
+grist-mill here. Miss Grey, she is our teacher at the graded school,
+and she gave me a paper--"
+
+Colonel Butler interrupted him.
+
+"A pupil at the graded school are you, sir? Do you chance to know a
+lad there by the name of Penfield Butler; and if you know him can you
+give me any information concerning his whereabouts this evening?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I know him. After school he started for Drake's Hill with
+some other Hill boys to go a coasting."
+
+"Ah! Pleasure before duty. He was to have met me here prior to the
+leaving of the train. I have little patience, sir, with boys who
+neglect engagements to promote their own pleasures."
+
+He had such an air of severity as he said it, that Aleck was not sure
+whether, after all, he would dare to reapproach him on the subject of
+the subscription. But he plucked up courage and started in anew.
+
+"Our teacher, Miss Grey, gave me this paper to get subscriptions on
+for the new flag. I'd be awful glad if you'd give something toward
+it."
+
+"What's that?" asked the man as he took the paper from Aleck's hand.
+"A flag for the school? And has the school no flag?"
+
+"No, sir; not any."
+
+"The directors have been derelict in their duty, sir. They should have
+provided a flag on the erection of the building. No public school
+should be without an American flag. Let me see."
+
+He unhooked his eye-glasses from the breast of his waistcoat and put
+them on, shook out the paper dexterously with his one hand, and began
+to read it aloud.
+
+    "We, the undersigned, hereby agree to pay the sums set opposite
+    our respective names, for the purpose of purchasing an American
+    flag for the Chestnut Hill public school. All subscriptions to be
+    payable to a collector hereafter to be appointed."
+
+Colonel Butler removed his glasses from his nose and stood for a
+moment in contemplation.
+
+"I approve of the project," he said at last. "Our youth should be made
+familiar with the sight of the flag. They should be taught to
+reverence it. They should learn of the gallant deeds of those who have
+fought for it through many great wars. I shall be glad to affix my
+name, sir, to the document, and to make a modest contribution. How
+large a fund is it proposed to raise?"
+
+Aleck stammered a little as he replied. He had not expected so ready a
+compliance with his request. And it was beginning to dawn on him that
+it might be good policy, as well as a matter of common fairness, to
+tell the colonel frankly that Pen also had been authorized to solicit
+subscriptions. There might indeed be such a thing as revoking a
+subscription made under a misleading representation, or a suppression
+of facts. And if that should happen--
+
+"Why," said Aleck, "why--Miss Grey said she thought we ought to get
+twenty-five dollars. We've got to get a pole too, you know."
+
+"Certainly you must have a staff, and a good one. Twenty-five dollars
+is not enough money, young man. You should have forty dollars at
+least. Fifty would be better. I'll give half of that amount myself.
+There should be no skimping, no false economy, in a matter of such
+prime importance. I shall see Miss Grey about it personally when I
+return from New York. Kindly accompany me to the station-agent's
+office where I can procure pen and ink."
+
+Aleck knew that the revelation could be no longer delayed.
+
+"But," he stammered, "but, Colonel Butler, you know Pen's got one
+too."
+
+The colonel turned back again.
+
+"Got what?" he asked.
+
+"Why, one of these, now, subscription papers."
+
+"Has he?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Colonel Butler stood for a moment, apparently in deep thought. Then he
+looked out again from under his bushy eye-brows, searchingly, up the
+street. He took his watch from his pocket and glanced at it. After
+that he spoke.
+
+"Under normal conditions, sir, my grandson would have preference in a
+matter of this kind, and I am obliged to you for unselfishly making
+the suggestion. But, as he has failed to perform a certain duty toward
+me, I shall consider myself relieved, for the time being, of my duty
+of preference toward him. Kindly accompany me to the station-master's
+office."
+
+With Aleck in his wake he strode down the platform and across the
+waiting-room, among the people who had gathered to wait for or depart
+by the train, and spoke to the ticket-agent at the window.
+
+"Will you kindly permit me, sir, to use your table and pen and ink to
+sign a document of some importance?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+The man at the window opened the door of the agent's room and bade the
+colonel and Aleck to enter. He pushed a chair up to the table and
+placed ink and pens within reach.
+
+"Help yourself, Colonel Butler," he said. "We're glad to accommodate
+you."
+
+But the colonel had barely seated himself before a new thought
+entered his mind. He pondered for a moment, and then swung around in
+the swivel-chair and faced the boy who stood waiting, cap in hand.
+
+"Young man," he said, "it just occurs to me that I can serve your
+school as well, and please myself better, by making a donation of the
+flag instead of subscribing to the fund. Does the idea meet with your
+approval?"
+
+The proposition came so unexpectedly, and the question so suddenly,
+that Aleck hardly knew how to respond.
+
+"Why, yes, sir," he said hesitatingly, "I suppose so. You mean you'll
+give us the flag?"
+
+"Yes; I'll give you the flag. I am about starting for New York. I will
+purchase one while there. And in the spring I will provide a proper
+staff for it, in order that it may be flung to the breeze."
+
+By this time Aleck comprehended the colonel's plan.
+
+"Why," he exclaimed enthusiastically, "that'll be great! May I tell
+Miss Grey?"
+
+"You may be the sole bearer of my written offer to your respected
+teacher."
+
+He swung around to the table and picked up a pen.
+
+"Your teacher's given name is--?" he inquired.
+
+"Why," stammered Aleck, "it's--it's--why, her name's Miss Helen Grey."
+
+The colonel began to write rapidly on the blank page of the
+subscription paper.
+
+    "_To Miss Helen Grey;_
+      "_Principal of the Public School_
+        "_Chestnut Hill._
+
+    "My Dear Madam:
+
+    "I am informed by one of your pupils, Master--"
+
+He stopped long enough to ask the boy for his full name, and then
+continued to write--
+
+    "Alexander McMurtrie Sands, that it is your patriotic purpose to
+    procure an American flag for use in your school. With this purpose
+    I am in hearty accord. It will therefore give me great pleasure,
+    my dear madam, to procure for you at once, at my sole expense, and
+    present to your school, an appropriate banner, to be followed in
+    due season by a fitting staff. I trust that my purpose and desire
+    may commend themselves to you. I wish also that your pupil, the
+    aforesaid Master Sands, shall have full credit for having so
+    successfully called this matter to my attention; and to that end I
+    make him sole bearer of this communication.
+
+      "I remain, my dear madam,
+        "Your obedient servant,
+          "Richard Butler."
+
+    January 12th.
+
+
+Colonel Butler read the letter over slowly aloud, folded the
+subscription paper on which it had been written, and handed it to
+Aleck.
+
+"There, young man," he said, "are your credentials, and my offer."
+
+The shrieking whistle had already announced the approach of the train,
+and the easy puffing of the locomotive indicated that it was now
+standing at the station. The colonel rose from his chair and started
+across the room, followed by Aleck.
+
+"You're very kind to do that," said the boy. And he added: "Have you a
+grip that I can carry to the train for you?"
+
+"No, thank you! A certain act--rash perhaps, but justifiable,--in the
+civil war, cost me an arm. Since then, when traveling, I have found it
+convenient to check my baggage."
+
+He pushed his way through the crowd on the platform, still followed by
+Aleck, and mounted the rear steps of the last coach on the train. The
+engine bell was ringing. The conductor cried, "All aboard!" and
+signalled to the engineer, and the train moved slowly out.
+
+On the rear platform, scanning the crowd at the station, stood Colonel
+Butler, tall, soldierly, impressive. He saw Aleck and waved his hand
+to him. And at that moment, capless, breathless, hopeless, around the
+corner of the station into sight, dashed Pen Butler.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Pen was not only exhausted by his race, he was disappointed and
+distressed as well.
+
+Whether or not his grandfather had seen him as the train moved out he
+did not know. He simply knew that for him not to have been there on
+time was little less than tragical. He dropped down limply on a
+convenient trunk to regain his breath.
+
+After a minute he was aware that some one was standing near by,
+looking at him. He glanced up and saw that it was Aleck Sands. He was
+nettled. He knew of no reason why Aleck should stand there staring at
+him.
+
+"Well," he asked impatiently, "is there anything about me that's
+particularly astonishing?"
+
+"Not particularly," replied Aleck. "You seem to be winded, that's
+all."
+
+"You'd be winded too, if you'd run all the way from Drake's Hill."
+
+"Too bad you missed your grandfather. He was looking for you."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"He told me so. He wanted to know if I'd seen you."
+
+"What did you tell him?"
+
+"I told him you'd gone to Drake's Hill, coasting."
+
+Pen rose slowly to his feet. What right, he asked himself, had this
+fellow to be telling tales about him? What right had he to be talking
+to Colonel Butler, anyway? However, he did not choose to lower his
+dignity further by inquiry. He turned as if to leave the station. But
+Aleck, who had been turning the matter over carefully in his mind, had
+decided that Pen ought to know about the proposed gift of the flag. He
+ought not to be permitted, unwittingly, to go on securing
+subscriptions to a fund which, by reason of Colonel Butler's proposed
+gift, had been made unnecessary. That would be cruel and humiliating.
+So, as Pen turned away, he said to him:
+
+"I've put in some work for the flag this afternoon."
+
+"I s'pose so," responded Pen. "But it does not follow that by getting
+the first start you'll come out best in the end."
+
+"Maybe not; but I'd like to show you what I've done."
+
+He took the subscription paper from his pocket and began to unfold it.
+
+"Oh," replied Pen, "I don't care what you've done. It's none of my
+business. You get your subscriptions and I'll get mine."
+
+Aleck looked for a moment steadily at his opponent. Then he folded up
+his paper and put it back into his pocket.
+
+"All right!" he said. "Only don't forget that I offered to show it to
+you to-day."
+
+But Pen was both resentful and scornful. He did not propose to treat
+his rival's offer seriously, nor to give him the satisfaction of
+looking at his paper.
+
+"You can't bluff me that way," he said. "And besides, I'm not
+interested in what you're doing."
+
+And he walked around the corner of the station platform and out into
+the street.
+
+When Aleck Sands tramped up the hill to school on the following
+morning it was with no great sense of jubilation over his success. He
+had an uneasy feeling that he had not done exactly the fair thing in
+soliciting a subscription from Pen Butler's grandfather. It was, in a
+way, trenching on Pen's preserves. But he justified himself on the
+ground that he had a perfect right to get his contributions where he
+chose. His agency had been conditioned by no territorial limits. And
+if, by his diligence, he had outwitted Pen, surely he had nothing to
+regret. So far as his failure to disclose to his rival the fact of
+Colonel Butler's gift was concerned, that, he felt, was Pen's own
+fault. If, by his offensive conduct, the other boy had deprived
+himself of his means of knowledge, and had humiliated himself and made
+himself ridiculous by procuring unnecessary subscriptions, certainly
+he, Aleck, was not to blame. Under any circumstances, now that he had
+gone so far in the matter, he would not yield an inch nor make a
+single concession. On that course he was fully determined.
+
+On the walk, as he approached the school-house door, Pen was standing,
+with a group of Hill boys. They were discussing the accident that had
+occurred on Drake's Hill the day before. They paid little attention to
+Aleck as he passed by them, but, just as he was mounting the steps,
+Pen called out to him.
+
+"Oh, Aleck! You wanted to show me your subscription paper last night.
+I'll look at it now, and you look at mine, and we'll leave it to the
+fellows here who's got the most names and the most money promised. And
+I haven't got my grandfather on it yet, either."
+
+Aleck turned and faced him. "Remember what you said to me last night?"
+he asked. "Well, I'll say the same thing to you this morning. I'm not
+interested in your paper. It's none of my business. You get your
+subscriptions and I'll get mine."
+
+And he mounted the steps and entered the school-room.
+
+Miss Grey was already at her desk, and he went straight to her.
+
+"I've brought back my subscription blank, Miss Grey," he said, and he
+handed the paper to her.
+
+She looked up in surprise.
+
+"You haven't completed your canvass, have you?" she asked.
+
+"No. If you'll read the paper you'll see it wasn't necessary."
+
+She unfolded the paper and read the letter written on it. Her face
+flushed; but whether with astonishment or anxiety it would have been
+difficult to say.
+
+"Did Colonel Butler know," she inquired, "when he wrote this, that Pen
+also had a subscription paper?"
+
+"Yes. I met him at the station last night, when he was starting for
+New York, and I told him all about it."
+
+"Was Pen there?"
+
+"No; he didn't get there till after the train started."
+
+"Does he know about this letter?"
+
+"Not from me. I offered to show it to him but he wouldn't look at it."
+
+"Aleck, there's something strange about this. I don't quite understand
+it. Is Pen outside?"
+
+"Yes; he was when I came."
+
+"Call him in, please; and return with him."
+
+Aleck went to the door, his resolution to stand by his conduct growing
+stronger every minute. He called to Pen.
+
+"Miss Grey wants to see you," he said.
+
+"What for?" inquired Pen.
+
+"She'll tell you when you come in."
+
+Both boys returned to the teacher.
+
+"Pen," she inquired, "have you obtained any subscriptions to your
+paper for the flag fund?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Grey," he replied. "I think I've done pretty well
+considering my grandfather's not home."
+
+He handed his paper to her with a show of pardonable pride; but she
+merely glanced at the long list of names.
+
+"Did you know," she asked, "that Colonel Butler has decided to give
+the flag to the school?"
+
+Pen opened his eyes in astonishment.
+
+"No," he said. "Has he?"
+
+"Read this letter, please."
+
+She handed the colonel's letter to him and he began to read it. His
+face grew red and his eyes snapped. He had been outwitted. He knew in
+a moment when, where and how it had been done. He handed the paper
+back to Miss Grey.
+
+"All right!" he said. "But I think it was a mean, underhanded,
+contemptible trick."
+
+Then Aleck, slow to wrath, woke up.
+
+"There was nothing mean nor underhanded about it," he retorted. "I had
+a perfect right to ask Colonel Butler for a subscription. And if he
+chose to give the whole flag, that was his lookout. And," turning to
+Pen, "if you'd been half way decent last night, you'd have known all
+about this thing then, and maybe saved yourself some trouble."
+
+Before Pen could flash back a reply, Miss Grey intervened.
+
+"That will do, boys. I'm not sure who is in the wrong here, if any one
+is. I propose to find out about that, later. It's an unfortunate
+situation; but, in justice to Colonel Butler, we must accept it." She
+handed Pen's paper back to him, and added: "I think you had better
+take this back to your subscribers, and ask them to cancel their
+subscriptions. I will consult with my associates at noon, and we will
+decide upon our future course. In the meantime I charge you both,
+strictly, to say nothing about this matter until after I have made my
+announcement at the afternoon session. You may take your seats."
+
+The school bell had already ceased ringing, and the pupils had filed
+in and had taken their proper places. So Aleck and Pen went down the
+aisle, the one with stubborn resolution marking his countenance, the
+other with keen resentment flashing from his eyes.
+
+And poor Miss Grey, mild and peace-loving, but now troubled and
+despondent, who had thought to restore harmony among her pupils,
+foresaw, instead, only a continued and more bitter rivalry.
+
+Notwithstanding her admonition, rumors of serious trouble between
+Aleck and Pen filtered through the school-room during the morning
+session, and were openly discussed at the noon recess. But both boys
+kept silent.
+
+It was not until the day's work had been finally disposed of, and the
+closing hour had almost arrived, that Miss Grey made her announcement.
+
+With all the composure at her command she called the attention of the
+school to the plan for a flag fund.
+
+"Our end has been accomplished," she added, "much more quickly and
+successfully than we had dared to hope, as you will see by this letter
+which I shall read to you."
+
+When she had finished reading the letter there was a burst of
+applause. The school had not discovered the currents under the
+surface.
+
+She continued:
+
+"This, of course, will do away with the necessity of obtaining
+subscriptions. Honors appear to be nearly even. A prominent citizen of
+Chestnut Hill has given us the flag--" (Loud applause from the
+Hilltops;) "and a pupil from Chestnut Valley has the distinction of
+having procured the gift." (Cheers for Aleck Sands from the
+Riverbeds.) "Now let rivalry cease, and let us unite in a fitting
+acceptance of the gift. I have consulted with my associates, and we
+have appointed a committee to wait upon Colonel Butler and to
+cooperate with him in fixing a day for the presentation of the flag to
+the school. We will make a half-holiday for the occasion, and will
+prepare an order of exercises. We assume that Colonel Butler will make
+a speech of presentation, and we have selected Penfield Butler as the
+most appropriate person to respond on behalf of the school. Penfield
+will prepare himself accordingly."
+
+By making this appointment Miss Grey had hoped to pour oil upon the
+troubled waters, and to bring about at least a semblance of harmony
+among the warring elements. But, as the event proved, she had counted
+without her host. For she had no sooner finished her address than Pen
+was on his feet. His face was pale and there was a strange look in his
+eyes, but he did not appear to be unduly excited.
+
+"May I speak, Miss Grey?" he asked.
+
+"Certainly," she replied.
+
+"Then I want to say that I'm very much obliged to you for appointing
+me, but I decline the appointment. I'm glad the school's going to have
+a flag, and I'm glad my grandfather's going to give it; and I thank
+you, Miss Grey, for trying to please me; but I don't propose to be
+made the tail of Aleck Sands' kite. If he thinks it's an honor to get
+the flag the way he got it, let him have the honor of accepting it."
+
+Pen sat down. There was no applause. Even his own followers were too
+greatly amazed for the moment to applaud him. And, before they got
+their wits together, Miss Grey had again taken the reins in hand.
+
+"I am sure we all regret," she said, "that Penfield does not see fit
+to accept this appointment, and we should regret still more the
+attitude of mind that leads him to decline it. However, in accordance
+with his suggestion, I will name Alexander Sands as the person who
+will make the response to Colonel Butler's presentation speech. That
+is all to-day. When school is dismissed you will not loiter about the
+school grounds, but go immediately to your homes."
+
+It was a wise precaution on Miss Grey's part to direct her pupils to
+go at once to their homes. There is no telling what disorder might
+have taken place had they been permitted to remain. The group of
+Hilltops that surrounded Pen as he marched up the street and explained
+the situation to them, was loud in its condemnation of the meanness
+and trickery of Aleck Sands; and the party of Riverbeds that walked
+down with Aleck was jubilant over the clever way in which he had
+outwitted his opponent, and had, by obtaining honor for himself,
+conferred honor also upon them.
+
+Colonel Butler returned, in due season, from New York.
+
+Pen met him at the station on his arrival. There was no delay on this
+occasion. Indeed, the boy had paced up and down the platform for at
+least fifteen minutes before the train drew in. During the ride up to
+Bannerhall, behind the splendid team of blacks with their jingling
+bells, nothing was said about the gift of the flag. It was not until
+dinner had been served and partly eaten that the subject was
+mentioned, and the colonel himself was the first one to mention it.
+
+"By the way, Penfield," he said, "I have ordered, and I expect to
+receive in a few days, an American flag which I shall present to your
+public school. I presume you have heard something concerning it?"
+
+"Yes, grandfather. Your letter was read to the school by Miss Grey the
+day after you went to New York."
+
+"Did she seem pleased over the gift?"
+
+"Yes, very much so, I think. It was awfully nice of you to give it."
+
+"A--was any arrangement made about receiving it?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Grey appointed a committee to see you. There's to be a
+half-holiday, and exercises."
+
+"I presume--a--Penfield, that I will be expected to make a brief
+address?"
+
+"Of course. Miss Grey's counting on it."
+
+"Now, father," interrupted Aunt Millicent, "I do hope it will be a
+really brief address. You're so long-winded. That speech you made when
+the school-house was dedicated was twice too long. Everybody got
+tired."
+
+His daughter Millicent was the only person on earth from whom Colonel
+Butler would accept criticism or reproof. And from her he not only
+accepted it, but not infrequently acted upon it in accordance with her
+wish. He had always humored her, because she had always lived with
+him, except during the time she was away at boarding school; and since
+the death of his wife, a dozen years before, she had devoted herself
+to his comfort. But he was fond, nevertheless, of getting into a mild
+argument with her, and being vanquished, as he expected to be now.
+
+"My dear daughter," he said, "I invariably gauge the length of my
+speech by the importance of the occasion. The occasion to which you
+refer was an important one, as will be the occasion of the
+presentation of this flag. It will be necessary for me, therefore, to
+address the pupils and the assembled guests at sufficient length to
+impress upon them the desirability, you may say the necessity, of
+having a patriotic emblem, such as is the American flag, constantly
+before the eyes of our youth."
+
+His daughter laughed a little. She was never awed by his stately
+manner of speech.
+
+"All the same," she replied; "I shall get a seat in the front row, and
+if you exceed fifteen minutes--fifteen minutes to a minute, mind
+you--I shall hold up a warning finger; and if you still trespass, I
+shall go up and drag you off the platform by your coat tails; and then
+you'd look pretty, wouldn't you?"
+
+Apparently he did not find it profitable to prolong the argument with
+her on this occasion, for he laughed and turned again to Pen.
+
+"By the way, Penfield," he said, "I missed you at the train the day I
+left home. I suppose something of major importance detained you?"
+
+Pen blushed a little, but he replied frankly:
+
+"I was awfully sorry, grandfather; I meant to have written you about
+it. I didn't exactly forget; but I was coasting on Drake's Hill, and
+there was an accident, and I was very much excited, and it got
+train-time before I knew it. Then I ran as fast as I could, but it
+wasn't any use."
+
+"I see. I trust that no one was seriously injured?"
+
+"No, sir. I bruised my shin a little, and Elmer scraped his knee, and
+the bobs were wrecked; that's about all."
+
+Colonel Butler adjusted his glasses and leaned back in his chair; a
+habit he had when about to deliver himself of an opinion which he
+deemed important.
+
+"Penfield," he said, "a gentleman should never permit anything to
+interfere with the keeping of his engagements. If the matter in hand
+is of sufficient importance to call for an engagement, it is of
+sufficient importance to keep the engagement so made. It is an
+elementary principle of good conduct that a gentleman should always
+keep his word. Otherwise the relations of men with each other would
+become chaotic."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Pen.
+
+Colonel Butler removed his glasses and again applied himself to the
+disposal of his food which had been cut into convenient portions by
+his devoted daughter.
+
+But his mind soon recurred to the subject of the flag.
+
+"A--Penfield," he inquired, "do you chance to know whether any person
+has been chosen to make a formal response to my speech of
+presentation?"
+
+Pen felt that the conversation was approaching an embarrassing stage,
+but there was no hesitancy in his manner as he replied:
+
+"Yes, sir. The boy that got your offer, Aleck Sands, will make the
+response."
+
+"H'm! I was hoping, expecting in fact, that you, yourself, would be
+chosen to perform that pleasing duty. Had you been, we could have
+prepared our several speeches with a view to their proper relation to
+each other. It occurred to me that your teacher, Miss Grey, would have
+this fact in mind. Do you happen to know of any reason why she should
+not have appointed you?"
+
+For the first time in the course of the conversation Pen hesitated and
+stammered.
+
+"Why, I--she--she did appoint me."
+
+"Haven't you just told me, sir, that--"
+
+"But, grandfather, I declined."
+
+Aunt Millicent dropped her hands into her lap in astonishment.
+
+"Pen Butler!" she exclaimed, "why haven't you told me a word of this
+before?"
+
+"Because, Aunt Milly, it wasn't a very agreeable incident, and I
+didn't want to bother you telling about it."
+
+Colonel Butler had, in the meantime, again put on his glasses in order
+that he might look more searchingly at his grandson.
+
+"Permit me to inquire," he asked, "why you should have declined so
+distinct an honor?"
+
+Then Pen blurted out his whole grievance.
+
+"Because Aleck Sands didn't do the fair thing. He got you to give the
+flag through him instead of through me, by a mean trick. He gets the
+credit of getting the flag; now let him have the honor of accepting
+it. I won't play second fiddle to such a fellow as he is, and that's
+all there is to it."
+
+He pushed his chair back from the table and sat, with flaming cheeks
+and defiant eyes, as if ready to meet all comers.
+
+Aunt Millicent, more astonished than ever, exclaimed:
+
+"Why, Pen Butler, I'm shocked!"
+
+But the colonel did not seem to be shocked. Back of his glasses there
+was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes which Pen could not see. Here
+was the old Butler pride and independence manifesting itself; the
+spirit which had made the family prosperous and prominent. He was not
+ill-pleased. Nevertheless he leaned back in his chair and spoke
+impressively:
+
+"Now let us consider the situation. You received from your teacher a
+copy of the same subscription blank which was handed to your
+fellow-pupil. Had you met your engagement at the station, and called
+the matter to my attention, you would doubtless have received my
+subscription, or been the bearer of my offer, in preference to any one
+else. In your absence your school-fellow seized a legitimate
+opportunity to present his case. My regret at your failure to appear,
+and my appreciation of his alertness, led me to favor him. I am unable
+to see why, under these circumstances, he should be charged with
+improper conduct."
+
+"Well," responded Pen, hotly, "he might at least have told you that I
+had a subscription blank too."
+
+"He did so inform me. And his fairness and frankness in doing so was
+an inducing cause of my favorable consideration of his request."
+
+Pen felt that the ground was being cut away from under his feet, but
+he still had one grievance left.
+
+"Anyway," he exclaimed, "he might have told me about your giving the
+whole flag, instead of letting me go around like a monkey, collecting
+pennies for nothing."
+
+"Very true, Penfield, he should have told you. Didn't he intimate to
+you in any way what I had done? Didn't he offer to show you his
+subscription blank containing my letter?"
+
+"Why--why, yes, I believe he did."
+
+"And you declined to look at it?"
+
+"Yes, I declined to look at it. I considered it none of my business.
+But he might have told me what was on it."
+
+"My dear grandson; this is a case in which the alertness of your
+school-fellow, added to your failure to keep an engagement and to
+grasp a situation, has led to your discomfiture. Let this be a lesson
+to you to be diligent, vigilant and forearmed. Only thus are great
+battles won."
+
+Again the colonel placed his glasses on the hook on the breast of his
+waistcoat, and resumed his activity in connection with his evening
+meal. It was plain that he considered the discussion at an end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+It was on an afternoon late in January that the flag was finally
+presented to the school. It was a day marked with fierce winds and
+flurries of snow, like a day in March.
+
+But the inclement weather did not prevent people from coming to the
+presentation exercises. The school room was full; even the aisles were
+filled, and more than one late-comer was turned away because there was
+no more room.
+
+Notwithstanding the fact that the Riverbeds were to have the lion's
+share of the honors of the occasion, and the further fact that
+resentment in the ranks of the Hilltops ran strong and deep, and
+doubly so since the outwitting of their leader, no attempt was made to
+block the program, or to interfere, in any way, with the success of
+the occasion.
+
+There were, indeed, some secret whisperings in a little group of which
+Elmer Cuddeback was the center; but, if any mischief was brewing, Pen
+did not know of it.
+
+Moreover, was it not Pen's grandfather who had given the flag, and who
+was to be the chief guest of the school, and was it not up to the
+Hilltops to see that he was treated with becoming courtesy? At any
+rate that was the "consensus of opinion" among them. Colonel Butler
+had prepared his presentation speech with great care. Twice he had
+read it aloud in his library to his grandson and to his daughter
+Millicent.
+
+His grandson had only favorable comment to make, but his daughter
+Millicent criticised it sharply. She said that it was twice too long,
+that it had too much "spread eagle" in it, and that it would be away
+over the heads of his audience anyway. So the colonel modified it
+somewhat; but, unfortunately, he neither made it simpler nor
+appreciably shorter.
+
+Aleck, too, under the supervision of his teacher, had prepared a
+fitting and patriotic response which he had committed to memory and
+had rehearsed many times. Pupils taking part in the rest of the
+program had been carefully and patiently drilled, and every one
+looked forward to an occasion which would be marked as a red-letter
+day in the history of the Chestnut Hill school.
+
+The exercises opened with the singing of "The Star Spangled Banner,"
+by the school. There was a brief prayer by the pastor of one of the
+village churches. Next came a recitation, "Barbara Frietchie," by a
+small girl. Then another girl read a brief history of the American
+flag. She was followed by James Garfield Morrissey, the crack
+elocutionist of the school, who recited, in fine form, a well-known
+patriotic poem, written to commemorate the heroism of American sailors
+who cheered the flag as they went down with the sinking flag-ship
+_Trenton_ in a hurricane which swept the Samoan coast in 1889.
+
+            THE BANNER OF THE SEA
+
+    By wind and wave the sailor brave has fared
+            To shores of every sea;
+    But, never yet have seamen met or dared
+            Grim death for victory,
+      In braver mood than they who died
+      On drifting decks in Apia's tide
+      While cheering every sailor's pride,
+              The Banner of the Free.
+
+    Columbia's men were they who then went down,
+            Not knights nor kings of old;
+    But brighter far their laurels are than crown
+            Or coronet of gold.
+      Our sailor true, of any crew,
+      Would give the last long breath he drew
+      To cheer the old Red, White and Blue,
+              The Banner of the Bold.
+
+    With hearts of oak, through storm and smoke and flame,
+            Columbia's seamen long
+    Have bravely fought and nobly wrought that shame
+            Might never dull their song.
+      They sing the Country of the Free,
+      The glory of the rolling sea,
+      The starry flag of liberty,
+              The Banner of the Strong.
+
+    We ask but this, and not amiss the claim;
+            A fleet to ride the wave,
+    A navy great to crown the state with fame,
+            Though foes or tempests rave.
+      Then, as our fathers did of yore,
+      We'll sail our ships to every shore,
+      On every ocean wind will soar
+              The Banner of the Brave.
+
+    Oh! this we claim that never shame may ride
+            On any wave with thee,
+    Thou ship of state whose timbers great abide
+            The home of liberty.
+      For, so, our gallant Yankee tars,
+      Of daring deeds and honored scars,
+      Will make the Banner of the Stars
+              The Banner of the Sea.
+
+The school having been roused to a proper pitch of enthusiasm by the
+reading of these verses, Colonel Butler rose in an atmosphere already
+surcharged with patriotism to make his presentation speech. Hearty
+applause greeted the colonel, for, notwithstanding his well-known
+idiosyncrasies, he was extremely popular in Chestnut Hill. He had been
+a brave soldier, an exemplary neighbor, a prominent and
+public-spirited citizen. Why should he not receive a generous welcome?
+He graciously bowed his acknowledgment, and when the hand-clapping
+ceased he began:
+
+"Honored teachers, diligent pupils, faithful directors, patriotic
+citizens, and friends. This is a most momentous occasion. We are met
+to-day to do honor to the flag of our country, a flag for which--and I
+say it with pardonable pride--I, myself, have fought on many a bloody
+and well-known field."
+
+There was a round of applause.
+
+The colonel's face flushed with pleasure, his voice rose and expanded,
+and in many a well-rounded phrase and burst of eloquence he appealed
+to the latent patriotism of his hearers.
+
+At the end of fifteen minutes he glanced at his watch which was lying
+on a table at his side, and then looked at his daughter Millicent who
+was occupying a chair in the front row as she had said she would. She
+frowned at him forbiddingly. But he was as yet scarcely half through
+his speech. He picked up his manuscript from the table and glanced at
+it, and then looked appealingly at her. She was obdurate. She held a
+warning forefinger in the air.
+
+"I am reminded," he said, "by one in the audience whose judgment I am
+bound to respect, that the time allotted to me in this program has
+nearly elapsed."
+
+"Fully elapsed," whispered his daughter with pursed lips, in such
+manner that, looking at her, he could not fail to catch the words.
+
+"Therefore," continued the colonel, with a sigh, "I must hasten to my
+conclusion. I wish to acknowledge my deep indebtedness to your
+faithful teacher, Miss Grey, by reason of whose patriotic initiative
+the opportunity was presented to me to make this gift. I wish also to
+commend the vigilance and effort of the young gentleman who brought
+the matter to my immediate and personal attention, and who, I am
+informed, will fittingly and eloquently respond to this brief and
+somewhat unsatisfactory address, Master Alexander Sands."
+
+Back somewhere in the audience, at the sound of the name, there was an
+audible sniff which was immediately drowned by loud hand-clapping on
+the part of the Riverbeds. But Colonel Butler was not yet quite
+through. Avoiding any ominous look which might have been aimed at him
+by his daughter, he hurried on:
+
+"And now, in conclusion, as I turn this flag over into your custody,
+let me charge you to guard it with exceeding care. It should be
+treated with reverence because it symbolizes our common country.
+Whoever regards it with indifference has no patriotic blood in his
+veins. Whoever lays wanton hands on it is a traitor to it. And whoever
+insults or defames it in any way, deserves, and will receive, the open
+scorn and lasting contempt of all his countrymen. Ladies and
+gentlemen, I have done."
+
+The colonel resumed his seat amid a roar of applause, and when it had
+subsided Miss Grey arose to introduce the respondent.
+
+"This beautiful flag," she said, "will now be accepted, on behalf of
+the school, in an address by one of our pupils: Master Alexander
+Sands."
+
+Aleck arose and made his way to the platform. The Riverbeds applauded
+him vigorously, and the guests mildly, as he went. He started out
+bravely enough on his speech.
+
+"Colonel Butler, teachers and guests: It gives me pleasure, on behalf
+of the Chestnut Hill public school, to accept this beautiful flag--"
+
+He made a sweeping gesture toward the right-hand corner of the
+platform, as he had done at rehearsals, only to discover that the flag
+had, at the last moment, been shifted to the left-hand corner, and he
+had, perforce, to turn and repeat his gesture in that direction. There
+was nothing particularly disconcerting about this, but it broke the
+continuity of his effort, it interfered with his memory, he halted,
+colored, and cudgeled his brains to find what came next. Back, in the
+rear of the room, where the Hilltops were gathered, there was an
+audible snicker; but Aleck was too busy to hear it, and Miss Grey,
+prepared for just such an emergency as this, glanced at a manuscript
+she had in her hand, and prompted him:
+
+"So graciously given to us--"
+
+Aleck caught the words and went on:
+
+"--so graciously given to us by our honored townsman and patriotic
+citizen, Colonel Richard Butler."
+
+Another pause. Again Miss Grey came to the rescue.
+
+"No words of mine--" she said.
+
+"No words of mine," repeated Aleck.
+
+"Sure, they're no words of yours," said some one in a stage-whisper,
+far down in the audience.
+
+Suspicion pointed to Elmer Cuddeback, but he stood there against the
+wall, with such an innocent, sober look on his round face, that people
+thought they must be mistaken. The words had not failed to reach to
+the platform, however, and Miss Grey, more troubled than before, again
+had recourse to her manuscript for the benefit of Aleck, who was
+floundering more deeply than ever in the bogs of memory.
+
+"--can properly express--"
+
+"--can properly express--"
+
+Another pause. Again the voice back by the wall:
+
+"Express broke down; take local."
+
+The situation was growing desperate. Miss Grey was almost at her wit's
+end. Then a bright idea struck her. She thrust the manuscript into
+Aleck's hand.
+
+"Oh, Aleck," she exclaimed, "take it and read it!"
+
+He grasped it like the proverbial drowning man, turned it upside down
+and right side up, but failed to find the place where he had left off.
+
+[Illustration: Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up, But
+Failed to Find the Place]
+
+Again the insistent, high-pitched whisper from the rear, breaking
+distinctly into the embarrassing silence:
+
+"Can't read it, cause teacher wrote it."
+
+This was the last straw. Slow to wrath as he always was, Aleck had
+thus far kept his temper. But this charge filled him with sudden anger
+and resentment. He turned his eyes, blazing with fury, toward the boy
+by the rear wall, whom he knew was baiting him, and shouted:
+
+"That's a lie, Elmer Cuddeback, and you know it!"
+
+At once confusion reigned. People stood up and looked around to get a
+possible glimpse of the object of Aleck's denunciation. Some one
+cried: "Put him out!"
+
+Two or three members of the Riverbeds started threateningly toward
+Elmer, and his friends struggled to get closer to him. An excitable
+woman in the audience screamed. Miss Grey was pounding vigorously with
+her gavel, but to no effect. Then Colonel Butler himself took matters
+in hand. He rose to his feet, stretched out his arm, and shouted:
+
+"Order! Order! Resume your seats!"
+
+People sat down again. The belligerent boys halted in their tracks.
+Everyone felt that the colonel must be obeyed. He waited, in
+commanding attitude, until order had been restored, then he continued:
+
+"The young gentleman who undertook to respond to my address was
+stricken with what is commonly known as stage-fright. That is no
+discredit to him. It is a malady that attacked so great a man and so
+brave a warrior as General Grant. I may add that I, myself, have
+suffered from it on occasion. And now that order has been restored we
+will proceed with the regular program, and Master Sands will finish
+the delivery of his address."
+
+He stepped back to give the respondent the floor; but Master Sands was
+nowhere in sight. In the confusion he had disappeared. The colonel
+looked around him expectantly for a moment, and then again advanced to
+the front of the platform.
+
+"In the absence of our young friend," he said, "whose address, I am
+sure, would have been received with the approbation it deserves, I,
+myself, will occupy a portion of the time thus made vacant, in still
+further expounding to you--"
+
+But at this moment, notwithstanding his effort to avoid it, he again
+caught his daughter's warning look, and saw her forefinger held
+threateningly in the air.
+
+"I am reminded, however," he continued, "by one in the audience whose
+judgment I am bound to respect, that it is not appropriate for me to
+make both the speech of presentation and the address on behalf of the
+recipient. I will, therefore, conclude by thanking you for your
+attendance and your attention, and by again adjuring you to honor,
+protect and preserve this beautiful emblem of our national liberties."
+
+He had scarcely taken his seat amid the applause that his words always
+evoked, before Miss Grey was on her feet announcing the closing number
+of the program, the song "America," by the entire audience.
+
+Whether it was due to the excitement of the occasion, or, as the
+colonel afterward modestly suggested, to the spirit of patriotism
+aroused by his remarks, it is a fact that no one present had ever
+before heard the old song sung with more vim and feeling.
+
+The audience was dismissed.
+
+Colonel Butler's friends came forward to congratulate and thank him.
+The Hilltops, chuckling gleefully, with Elmer Cuddeback in their
+center, marched off up-town. The Riverbeds, downcast and revengeful,
+made their way down the hill. But Aleck Sands was not with them. He
+had already left the school-building and had gone home. He was angry
+and bitterly resentful. He felt that he could have faced any one, at
+any time, in open warfare, but to be humiliated and ridiculed in
+public, that was more than even his phlegmatic nature could stand. He
+could not forget it. He could not forgive those who had caused it.
+Days, weeks, years were not sufficient to blot entirely from his heart
+the feeling of revenge that entered it that winter afternoon.
+
+It was late on the same day that Colonel Butler stood with his back to
+the blazing wood-fire in the library, waiting for his supper to be
+served, and looking out into the hall on the folds of the handsome,
+silk, American flag draped against the wall. There had always been a
+flag in the hall. Colonel Butler's father had placed one there when he
+built the house and went to live in it. And when, later on, the
+colonel fell heir to the property, and rebuilt and modernized the
+home, he replaced the old flag of bunting with the present one of
+silk. Indeed, it was on account of the place and prominence given to
+the flag that the homestead had been known for many years as
+Bannerhall.
+
+Pen sat at the library table preparing his lessons for the following
+day.
+
+"Well, Penfield," said the colonel, "a--what did you think of my
+speech to-day?"
+
+"I thought it was great," replied Pen. "Pretty near as good as the one
+you delivered last Memorial Day."
+
+The colonel smiled with satisfaction. "Yes," he remarked, "I, myself,
+thought it was pretty good; or would have been if your aunt Millicent
+had permitted me to complete it. It was also unfortunate that your
+young friend was not able fully to carry out his part of the program."
+
+"You mean Aleck Sands?"
+
+"I believe that is the young gentleman's name."
+
+"He's not my friend, grandfather."
+
+"Tut! Tut! You should not harbor resentment because of his having
+outwitted you in the matter of procuring the flag. Especially in view
+of his discomfiture of to-day."
+
+"It wasn't my fault that he flunked."
+
+"I am not charging you with that responsibility, sir. I am simply
+appealing to your generosity. By the way, I understand--I have learned
+this afternoon, that there exists what may be termed a feud between
+the boys of Chestnut Hill and those of Chestnut Valley. Have I been
+correctly informed?"
+
+"Why, yes; I guess--I suppose you might call it that."
+
+"And I have been informed also that you are the leader of what are
+facetiously termed the 'Hilltops,' and that our young friend, Master
+Sands, is the leader of what are termed, still more facetiously, the
+'Riverbeds.' Is this true?"
+
+Pen closed his book and hesitated. He felt that a reproof was coming,
+to be followed, perhaps, by strict orders concerning his own
+neutrality.
+
+"Well," he stammered, "I--I guess that's about right. Anyway our
+fellows sort o' depend on me to help 'em hold their own."
+
+Pen was not looking at his grandfather. If he had been he would have
+seen a twinkle of satisfaction in the old gentleman's eyes. It was
+something for a veteran of the civil war to have a grandson who had
+been chosen to the leadership of his fellows for the purpose of
+engaging in juvenile hostilities. So there was no shadow of reproof in
+the colonel's voice as he asked his next question.
+
+"And what, may I inquire, is, or has been, the _casus belli_?"
+
+"The what, sir?"
+
+"The--a--cause or causes which have produced the present state of
+hostility."
+
+"Why, I don't know--nothing in particular, I guess--only they're all
+the time doing mean things, and boasting they can lick us if we give
+'em a chance; and I--I'm for giving 'em the chance."
+
+Reproof or no reproof, he had spoken his mind. He had risen from his
+chair, and stood before his grandfather with determination written in
+every line of his flushed face. Colonel Butler looked at him and
+chuckled.
+
+"Very good!" he said. He chuckled again and repeated: "Very good!"
+
+Pen stared at him in astonishment. He could not quite understand his
+attitude.
+
+"Now, Penfield," continued the old gentleman, "mind you, I do not
+approve of petty jealousies and quarrelings, nor of causeless
+assaults. But, when any person is assailed, it is his peculiar
+privilege, sir, to hit back. And when he hits he should hit hard. He
+should use both strategy and force. He should see to it, sir, that his
+enemy is punished. Have your two hostile bodies yet met in open
+conflict on the field?"
+
+"Why," replied Pen, still amazed at the course things were taking,
+"we've had one or two rather lively little scraps. But I suppose,
+after what happened to-day, they'll want to fight. If they do want to,
+we're ready for 'em."
+
+The colonel had left his place in front of the fire, and was pacing up
+and down the room.
+
+"Very good!" he exclaimed, "very good! Men and nations should always
+be prepared for conflict. To that end young men should learn the art
+of fighting, so that when the call to arms comes, as I foresee that it
+will come, the nation will be ready."
+
+He stopped in his walk and faced his grandson.
+
+"Not that I deprecate the arts of peace, Penfield. By no means! It is
+by those arts that nations have grown great. But, in my humble
+judgment, sir, as a citizen and a soldier, the only way to preserve
+peace, and to ensure greatness, is to be at all times ready for war.
+We must instil the martial spirit into our young men, we must rouse
+their fighting blood, we must teach them the art of war, so that if
+the flag is ever insulted or assailed they will be ready to protect it
+with their bodies and their blood. Learn to fight; to fight honorably,
+bravely, skillfully, and--to fight--hard."
+
+"Father Richard Butler!"
+
+It was Aunt Millicent who spoke. She had come on them from the hall
+unawares, and had overheard the final words of the colonel's
+adjuration.
+
+"Father Richard Butler," she repeated, "what heresy is this you are
+teaching to Pen?"
+
+He made a brave but hopeless effort to justify his course.
+
+"I am teaching him," he replied, "the duty that devolves upon every
+patriotic citizen."
+
+"Patriotic fiddlesticks!" she exclaimed. "I have no patience with such
+blood-thirsty doctrines. And, Pen, listen! If I ever hear of your
+fighting with anybody, at any time, you'll have your aunt Millicent to
+deal with, I promise you that. Now come to supper, both of you."
+
+It was not until nearly the close of the afternoon session on the
+following day that Miss Grey referred to the unfortunate incident of
+the day before. She expressed her keen regret, and her sense of
+humiliation, over the occurrence that had marred the program, and
+requested Elmer Cuddeback, Aleck Sands and Penfield Butler to remain
+after school that she might confer with them concerning some proper
+form of apology to Colonel Butler. But when she had the three boys
+alone with her, and referred to the shameful discourtesy with which
+the donor of the flag had been treated, tears came into her eyes, and
+her voice trembled to the point of breaking. No one could have helped
+feeling sorry for her; especially the three boys who were most
+concerned.
+
+"I don't think," said Pen, consolingly, "that grandfather minded it
+very much. He doesn't talk as if he did."
+
+"Let us hope," she replied, "that he was not too greatly shocked, or
+too deeply disgusted. Elmer, your conduct was wholly inexcusable, and
+I'm going to punish you. But, Pen, you and Aleck are the leaders, and
+I want this disgraceful feud between you up-town and down-town boys to
+stop. I want you both to promise me that this will be the end of it."
+
+She looked from one to the other appealingly, but, for a moment,
+neither boy replied. Then Aleck spoke up.
+
+"Our fellows," he said, "feel pretty sore over the way I was treated
+yesterday; and I don't believe they'd be willing to give up till they
+get even somehow."
+
+To which Pen responded:
+
+"They're welcome to try to get even if they want to. Were ready for
+'em."
+
+Miss Grey threw up her hands in despair.
+
+"Oh boys! boys!" she exclaimed. "Why will you be so foolish and
+obstinate? What kind of men do you suppose you'll make if you spend
+your school-days quarreling and fighting with each other?"
+
+"Well, I don't know," replied Pen. "My grandfather thinks it isn't
+such a bad idea for boys to try their mettle on each other, so long as
+they fight fair. He thinks they'll make better soldiers sometime. And
+he says the country is going to need soldiers after awhile."
+
+She looked up in surprise.
+
+"But I don't want my boys to become soldiers," she protested. "I don't
+want war. I don't believe in it. I hate it."
+
+She had reason to hate war, for her own father had been wounded at
+Chancellorsville, and she remembered her mother's long years of
+privation and sorrow. Again her lip trembled and her eyes filled with
+tears. There was an awkward pause; for each boy sympathized with her
+and would have been willing to help her had a way been opened that
+would not involve too much of sacrifice. Elmer Cuddeback, even in the
+face of his forthcoming punishment, was still the most tenderhearted
+of the three, and he struggled to her relief.
+
+"Can't--can't we make some sort o' compromise?" he suggested.
+
+But Pen, too, had been thinking, and an idea had occurred to him. And
+before any reply could be made to Elmer's suggestion he offered his
+own solution to the difficulty.
+
+"I'll tell you what I'll do, Miss Grey," he said, "and what I'll get
+our fellows to do. We'll have one, big snowball fight. And the side
+that gets licked 'll stay licked till school's out next spring. And
+there won't be any more scrapping all winter. We'll do that, won't we,
+Elmer?"
+
+"Sure we will," responded Elmer confidently.
+
+Aleck did not reply. Miss Grey thought deeply for a full minute.
+Perhaps, after all, Pen's proposition pointed to the best way out of
+the difficulty. Indeed, it was the only way along which there now
+seemed to be any light. She turned to Aleck.
+
+"Well," she asked, "what do you think of it?"
+
+"Why, I don't know," he replied. "I'd like to talk with some of our
+fellows about it first."
+
+He was always cautious, conservative, slow to act unless the emergency
+called for action.
+
+"No," replied Pen. "I won't wait. It's a fair offer, and you'll take
+it now or let it alone."
+
+"Then," said Aleck, doggedly, "I'll take it, and you'll be sorry you
+ever made it."
+
+Lest active hostilities should break out at once, Miss Grey
+interrupted:
+
+"Now, boys, I don't approve of it. I don't approve of it at all. I
+think young men like you should be in better business than pelting
+each other, even with snowballs. But, as it appears to be the only way
+out of the difficulty, and in the hope that it will put an end to this
+ridiculous feud, I'm willing that you should go ahead and try it. Do
+it and have it over with as soon as possible, and don't let me know
+when it's going to happen, or anything about it, until you're all
+through."
+
+It was with deep misgivings concerning the success of the plan that
+she dismissed the boys; and more than once during the next few days
+she was on the point of withdrawing her permission for the fight to
+take place. Many times afterwards she regretted keenly that she had
+not done so.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+When Pen told his grandfather that a snowball fight had been decided
+upon as the method of settling the controversy between the Hilltops
+and the Riverbeds, and that Miss Grey had given her permission to that
+effect, the old gentleman chuckled gleefully.
+
+"A very wise young woman," he said; "very wise indeed. When will the
+sanguinary conflict take place?"
+
+"Why," replied Pen, "the first day the snow melts good."
+
+"I see. I suppose you will lead the forces of Chestnut Hill?"
+
+"I expect to; yes, sir."
+
+"And our young friend, Master Sands, will marshal the troops of the
+Valley?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I suppose so."
+
+"You will have to look out for that young man, Penfield. He strikes me
+as being very much of a strategist."
+
+"I'm not afraid of him."
+
+"Don't be over-confident. Over-confidence has lost many a battle."
+
+"Well, we'll lick 'em anyway. We've got to."
+
+"That's the proper spirit. Determination, persistence, bravery,
+hard-fighting--Hush! Here comes your aunt Millicent."
+
+Colonel Butler was as bold as a lion in the presence of every one save
+his daughter. Against her determination his resolution melted like
+April snow. She loved him devotedly, she cared for him tenderly, but
+she ruled him with a rod of iron. In only one matter did his stubborn
+will hold out effectually against hers. No persuasion, no demand on
+her part, could induce him to change his attitude towards Pen's
+mother. He chose to consider his daughter-in-law absolutely and
+permanently outside of his family, and outside of his consideration,
+and there the matter had rested for a decade, and was likely to rest
+so long as he drew breath.
+
+That night, after Pen had retired to his room, there came a gentle
+knock at his open door. His grandfather stood there, holding in his
+hand a small volume of Upton's military tactics which he had used in
+the Civil War.
+
+"I thought this book might be of some service to you, Penfield," he
+explained. "It will give you a good idea of the proper methods to be
+used in handling large or small bodies of troops."
+
+"Thank you, grandfather," said Pen, taking the book. "I'll study it.
+I'm sure it'll help me."
+
+"Nevertheless," continued the colonel, "there must be courage and
+persistency as well as tactics, if battles are to be won. You
+understand?"
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+The old man turned away, but turned back again.
+
+"A--Penfield," he said, "when you are absent from your room will you
+kindly have the book in such a locality that your Aunt Millicent will
+not readily discover it?"
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+The winter weather at Chestnut Hill was not favorable for war. The
+mercury lingered in the neighborhood of zero day after day. Snow
+fell, drifted, settled; but did not melt. It was plain that ammunition
+could not be made of such material. So the battle was delayed. But the
+opposing forces nevertheless utilized the time. There were secret
+drills. There were open discussions. Plans of campaign were regularly
+adopted, and as regularly discarded. Yet both sides were constantly
+ready.
+
+A strange result of the situation was that there had not been better
+feeling between the factions for many months. Good-natured boasts
+there were, indeed. But of malice, meanness, open resentment, there
+was nothing. Every one was willing to waive opportunities for
+skirmishing, in anticipation of the one big battle.
+
+It was well along in February before the weather moderated. Then, one
+night, it grew warm. The next morning gray fog lay over all the
+snow-fields. Rivulets of water ran in the gutters, and little pools
+formed in low places everywhere. War time had at last come. Evidently
+nature intended this to be the battle day. It was Saturday and there
+was no session of the school.
+
+The commander of the Hilltops called his forces together early, and a
+plan of battle was definitely formed. Messengers, carrying a flag of
+truce, communicated with the Riverbeds, and it was agreed that the
+fight should take place that afternoon on the vacant plot in the rear
+of the school building. It was thought best by the Hilltops, however,
+to reconnoiter in force, and to prepare the field for the conflict.
+So, sixteen strong, they went forth to the place selected for the
+fray. They saw nothing of the enemy; the lot was still vacant. They
+began immediately to throw up breast-works. They rolled huge snowballs
+down the slightly sloping ground to the spot selected for a fort.
+These snowballs were so big that, by the time they reached their
+destination, it took at least a half dozen boys to put each one into
+place. They squared them up, and laid them carefully in a curved line
+ten blocks long and three blocks high, with the requisite embrasures.
+Then they prepared their ammunition. They made snowballs by the
+score, and piled them in convenient heaps inside the barricade. By the
+time this work was finished it was noon. Then, leaving a sufficient
+force to guard the fortifications, the remainder of the troops sallied
+forth to luncheon, among them the leader of the Hilltops. At the
+luncheon table Pen took advantage of the temporary absence of his aunt
+to inform his grandfather, in a stage-whisper, that the long
+anticipated fight was scheduled for that afternoon.
+
+"And," he added, "we've got the biggest snow fort you ever saw, and
+dead loads of snowballs inside."
+
+The colonel smiled and his eyes twinkled.
+
+"Good!" he whispered back. "Smite them hip and thigh. Hold the fort!
+'Stand: the ground's your own, my braves!'"
+
+"We're ready for anything."
+
+"Bravo! Beware of the enemy's strategy, and fight hard. Fight as
+if--ah! your Aunt Millicent's coming."
+
+At one o'clock the first division returned and relieved the garrison;
+and at two every soldier was back and in his place. The breast-works
+were strengthened, more ammunition was made, and heaps of raw material
+for making still more were conveniently placed. But the enemy did not
+put in an appearance. A half hour went by, and another half hour, and
+the head of the first hostile soldier was yet to be seen approaching
+above the crest of the hill. Crowds of small boys, non-combatants,
+were lined up against the school-house, awaiting, with anxiety and
+awe, the coming battle. Out in the road a group of girls, partisans of
+the Hilltops, was assembled to cheer their friends on to victory. Men,
+passing by on foot and with teams, stopped to inquire concerning the
+war-like preparations, and some of them, on whose hands it may be that
+time was hanging heavily, stood around awaiting the outbreak of
+hostilities.
+
+Still the enemy was nowhere in sight. A squad, under command of
+Lieutenant Cuddeback, was sent out to the road to reconnoiter. They
+returned and reported that they had been to the brow of the hill, but
+had failed to discover any hostile troops. Was it possible that the
+Riverbeds had weakened, backed out, decided, like the cowards that
+they were, not to fight, after all? It was in the midst of an animated
+discussion over this possibility that the defenders of the fort were
+startled by piercing yells from the neighborhood of the stone fence
+that bounded the school-house lot in the rear. Looking in that
+direction they were thunderstruck to see the enemy's soldiers pouring
+over the wall and advancing vigorously toward them. With rare strategy
+the Riverbeds, instead of approaching by the front, had come up the
+hill on the back road, crept along under cover of barns and fences
+until the school-house lot was reached, and now, with terrific shouts,
+were crossing the stone-wall to hurl themselves impetuously on the
+foe.
+
+For a moment consternation reigned within the fort. The surprise was
+overwhelming. Pen was the first one, as he should have been, to
+recover his wits. He remembered his grandfather's warning against the
+enemy's strategy.
+
+"It's a trick!" he shouted. "Don't let 'em scare you! Load up and at
+'em!"
+
+Every boy seized his complement of snowballs, and, led by their
+captain, the Hilltops started out, on double-quick, to meet the enemy.
+
+The next moment the air was filled with flying missiles. They were
+fired at close range, and few, from either side, failed to find their
+mark.
+
+The battle was swift and fierce. An onslaught from the Riverbeds'
+left, drove the right wing of the Hilltops back into the shadow of the
+fort. But the center held its ground and fought furiously. Then the
+broken right wing, supplied with fresh ammunition from the reserve
+piles, rallied, forced the invaders back, turned their flank, and fell
+on them from the rear. The Riverbeds, with ammunition all but
+exhausted, were hard beset. They fought bravely and persistently but
+they could not stand up before the terrific rain of missiles that was
+poured in on them. They yielded, they retreated, but they went with
+their faces to the foe. There was only one avenue of escape, and that
+was down by the side of the school-house to the public road. It was
+inch by inch that they withdrew. No army ever beat a more stubborn or
+masterly retreat. In the face of certain defeat, at scarcely arm's
+length from their shouting and exultant foe, they fought like heroes.
+
+Pen Butler was in the thickest and hottest of the fray. He urged his
+troops to the assault, and was not afraid to lead them. The militant
+blood of his ancestors burned in his veins, and, if truth must be
+told, it trickled in little streams down his face from a battered nose
+and a cut lip received at a close quarter's struggle with the enemy.
+
+The small boys by the school-house, seeing the line of battle
+approaching them, beat a retreat to a less hazardous position. The
+girls in the road clung to each other and looked on, fascinated and
+awe-stricken at the furious fight, forgetting to wave a single
+handkerchief, or emit a single cheer. The men on the side-path clapped
+their hands and yelled encouragement to one or other of the contending
+forces, in accordance with their sympathies.
+
+The first of the retreating troops, still contesting stubbornly the
+foe's advance, reached the corner of the school-house nearest the
+public road. By some chance the entrance door of the building was
+ajar. A soldier's quick eye discovered it. Here was shelter,
+protection, a chance to recuperate and reform. He shouted the good
+news to his comrades, pushed the door open and entered. By twos and
+threes, and then in larger groups, they followed him until the very
+last man of them was safe inside, and the door was slammed shut and
+locked in the faces of the foe. Under the impetus of the charge the
+victorious troops broke against the barrier, but it held firm. That it
+did so hold was one of the providential occurrences of the day. So, at
+last, the Hilltops were foiled and baffled. Their victory was not
+complete. Pen stood on the top step at the entrance, his face smeared
+with blood, and angrily declared his determination, by one means or
+another, to hunt the enemy out from their place of shelter, and drive
+them down the hill into their own riverbed, where they belonged. But,
+in spite of his extravagant declaration, nothing could be done without
+a breach of the law. Doors and windows must not be broken.
+Temporarily, at least, the enemy was safe.
+
+After a consultation among the Hilltops it was decided to take up a
+position across the road from the school-house, and await the
+emergence of the foe. But the foe appeared to be in no haste to
+emerge. It was warm inside. They were safe from attack. They could
+take their ease and wait. And they did. The minutes passed. A half
+hour went by. A drizzling rain had set in, and the young soldiers at
+the roadside were getting uncomfortably wet. The small boys, who had
+looked on, departed by twos and threes. The girls, after cheering the
+heroes of the fight, also sought shelter. The men, who had been
+interested spectators while the battle was on, drifted away. It isn't
+encouraging to stand out in the rain, doing nothing but stamping wet
+feet, and wait for a beaten foe to come out. Enthusiasm for a cause is
+apt to wane when one has to stand, shivering, in rain-soaked clothes,
+and wait for something to occur. And enthusiasm did wane. A majority
+of the boys wanted to call it a victory and go home. But Pen would not
+listen to such a proposal.
+
+"They've run into the school-house," he said, "like whipped dogs, and
+locked the door; and now, if we go home, they'll come out and boast
+that we were afraid to meet 'em again. They'll say that we slunk away
+before the fight was half over. I won't let 'em say that. I'll stay
+here all night but what I'll give 'em the final drubbing."
+
+But his comrades were not equally determined. The war spirit seemed to
+have died out in their breasts, and, try as he would, Pen was not able
+to restore it.
+
+Yet, even as he argued, the school-house door opened and the besieged
+army marched forth. They marched forth, indeed, but this time they had
+an American flag at the head of their column. It was carried by, and
+folded and draped around the body of, Alexander Sands. It was the flag
+that Colonel Butler had given to the school. Whose idea it was to use
+it thus has never been disclosed. But surely no more effective means
+could have been adopted to cover an orderly retreat. The Hilltop
+forces stared at the spectacle in amazement and stood silent in their
+tracks. Pen was the first to recover his senses. If he had been angry
+when the enemy came upon them unawares from the stone-wall, he was
+furious now.
+
+"It's another trick!" he cried, "a mean, contemptible trick! They
+think the flag'll save 'em but it won't! Come on! We'll show 'em!"
+
+He started toward the advancing column, firing his first snowball as
+he went; a snowball that flattened and spattered against the
+flag-covered breast of Aleck Sands. But his soldiers did not follow
+him. No leader, however magnetic, could have induced them to assault a
+body of troops marching under the protecting folds of the American
+flag. They revered the colors, and they stood fast in their places.
+Pen leaped the ditch, and, finding himself alone, stopped to look
+back.
+
+"What's the matter?" he cried. "Are you all afraid?"
+
+"It's the flag," answered Elmer Cuddeback, "and I won't fight anybody
+that carries it."
+
+"Nor I," said Jimmie Morrissey.
+
+"Nor I;" "Nor I," echoed one after another.
+
+Then, indeed, Pen's temper went to fever heat. He faced his own troops
+and denounced them.
+
+"Traitors!" he yelled. "Cowards! every one of you! To be scared by a
+mere piece of bunting! Babies! Go home and have your mothers put you
+to bed! I'll fight 'em single-handed!"
+
+He was as good as his word. He plunged toward the head of the column,
+which had already reached the middle of the public road.
+
+"Don't you dare to touch the flag!" cried Aleck.
+
+"And don't you dare to tell me what I shall not touch," retorted Pen.
+"Drop it, or I'll tear it off of you."
+
+But Aleck only drew the folds more tightly about him and braced
+himself for the onset. He clutched the staff with one hand; and the
+other hand, duly clenched, he thrust into his adversary's face. For a
+moment Pen was staggered by the blow, then he gathered himself
+together and leaped upon his opponent. The fight was on: fast and
+furious. The followers of each leader, appalled at the fierceness of
+the combat, stood as though frozen in their places. The flag, clutched
+by both fighters, was in danger of being torn from end to end. Then
+came the clinch. Gripping, writhing, twisting, tangled in the colors,
+the lithe young bodies wavered to their fall. And when they fell the
+flag fell with them, into the grime and slush of the road. In an
+instant Pen was on his feet again, but Aleck did not rise. He pulled
+himself slowly to his elbow and looked around him as though
+half-dazed.
+
+That Pen was the victor there was no doubt. His face streaked with
+blood and distorted with passion, he stood there and glared
+triumphantly on friend and foe alike. That he was standing on the flag
+mattered little to him in that moment. He was like one crazed. Some
+one shouted to him:
+
+"Get off the flag! You're standing on it!"
+
+"What's that to you?" he yelled back. "I'll stand where I like!"
+
+"It's the flag of your country. Get off of it!"
+
+"What do I care for my country or for you. I've won this fight,
+single-handed, in spite of any flag, or any country, or any coward
+here, and I'll stand where I choose!"
+
+He stood fast in his place and glared defiantly about him, and in all
+the company there was not one who dared approach him.
+
+But it was only for a moment. Some impulse moved him to look down.
+Under his heels the white stars on their blue field were being ground
+into the mire. A sudden revulsion of feeling swept over him, a sense
+of horror at his own conduct. His arms fell to his sides. His face
+paled till the blood splashes on it stood out startlingly distinct. He
+moved slowly and carefully backward till the folds of the banner were
+no longer under his feet. He cast one fleeting glance at his worsted
+adversary who was still half-lying, half-sitting, with the flag under
+his elbows, then, his passion quenched, shame and remorse over his
+unpatriotic conduct filling his heart, without another word he turned
+his back on his companions, thrust his bleeding hands into his
+pockets, and started up the road, toward home; his one thought being
+to leave as quickly and quietly as possible the scene of his disgrace.
+No one followed him, no one called after him; he went alone. He was
+hatless and ragged. His rain-soaked garments clung to him with an
+indescribable chill. The fire of his anger had burned itself out, and
+had left in its place the ashes of despondency and despair. Yet, even
+in that hour of depression and self-accusation, he did not dream of
+the far-reaching consequences of this one unpremeditated act of
+inexcusable folly of which he had just been guilty. He bent down and
+gathered some wet snow into his hands and bathed his face, and sopped
+it half dry with his handkerchief, already soaked. Then, not caring,
+in his condition, to show himself on the main street of the village,
+he crossed over to the lane that skirted the out-lots, and went thence
+by a circuitous and little traveled route, to Bannerhall.
+
+In the meantime, back in the road by the school-house, Aleck Sands had
+picked himself up, still a little dazed, but not seriously hurt, and
+soldiers who had recently faced each other in battle came with
+unanimity to the rescue of the flag. Hilltops and Riverbeds alike, all
+differences and enmities forgotten in this new crisis, they joined in
+gathering up the wet and muddy folds, and in bearing them to the
+warmth and shelter of the school-house. Here they washed out the
+stains, and stretched the banner out to dry, and at dusk, exhausted
+and sobered by the events of the day, with serious faces and
+apprehensive hearts, they went to their several homes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+When Pen reached home on that afternoon after the battle of Chestnut
+Hill, he found that his Aunt Millicent was out, and that his
+grandfather had not yet returned from Lowbridge, the county seat,
+fourteen miles away. He had therefore an opportunity, unseen and
+unquestioned, to change his wet clothing for dry, and to bathe and
+anoint and otherwise care for his cuts and bruises. When it was all
+done he went down to the library and lighted the gas, and found a book
+and tried to read. But the words he read were meaningless. Try as he
+would he could not keep his mind on the printed page. Nor was it so
+much the snowball fight that occupied his thoughts. He was not now
+exulting at any victory he had obtained over his foes. He was not even
+dwelling on the strategy and trickery displayed by Aleck Sands and his
+followers in seeking protection under the folds of the flag; strategy
+and trickery which had led so swiftly and sharply to his own undoing.
+It was his conduct in that last, fierce moment of the fight that was
+blazoned constantly before his eyes with ever increasing strength of
+accusation. To think that he, Penfield Butler, grandson of the owner
+of Bannerhall, had permitted himself, in a moment of passion, no
+matter what the provocation, to grind his country's flag into the
+slush under his heels; the very flag given by his grandfather to the
+school of which he was himself a member. How should he ever square
+himself with Colonel Richard Butler? How should he ever make it right
+with Miss Grey? How should he ever satisfy his own accusing
+conscience? Excuses for his conduct were plenty enough indeed; his
+excitement, his provocation, his freedom from malice; he marshalled
+them in orderly array; but, under the cold logic of events, one by one
+they crumbled and fell away. More and more heavily, more and more
+depressingly the enormity of his offense weighed upon him as he
+considered it, and what the outcome of it all would be he did not even
+dare to conjecture.
+
+At half past five his Aunt Millicent returned. She looked in at him
+from the hall, greeted him pleasantly, said something about the
+miserable weather, and then went on about her household duties.
+
+Dinner had been waiting for fifteen minutes before Colonel Butler
+reached home, and, in the mild excitement attendant upon his return,
+Pen's injuries escaped notice. But, at the dinner-table, under the
+brightness of the hanging lamps, he could no longer conceal his
+condition. Aunt Millicent was the first to discover it.
+
+"Why, Pen!" she exclaimed, "what on earth has happened to you?"
+
+And Pen answered, frankly enough:
+
+"I've been in a snowball fight, Aunt Milly."
+
+"Well, I should say so!" she replied. "Your face is a perfect sight.
+Father, just look at Pen's face."
+
+Colonel Butler adjusted his eye-glasses deliberately, and looked as he
+was bidden to do.
+
+"Some rather severe contusions," he remarked. "A bit painful,
+Penfield?"
+
+"Not so very," replied Pen, "I washed 'em off and put on some Pond's
+extract, and some court-plaster, and I guess they'll be all right."
+
+The colonel was still looking at Pen's wounds, and smiling as he
+looked.
+
+"The nature of the injuries," he said, "indicates that the fighting
+must have been somewhat strenuous. But honorable scars, won on the
+field of battle, are something in which any man may take pardonable--"
+
+"Father Richard Butler!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "Aren't you ashamed
+of yourself! Pen, let this be the last snowball fight you indulge in
+while you live in this house. Do you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Millicent. There won't be any more; not any more at all."
+
+"I should hope not," she replied; "with such a looking face as you've
+got."
+
+Colonel Butler was temporarily subdued. Only the merry twinkle in his
+eyes, and the smile that hovered about the corners of his mouth, still
+attested the satisfaction he was feeling in his grandson's military
+prowess. He could not, however, restrain his curiosity until the end
+of the meal, and, at the risk of evoking another rebuke from his
+daughter, he inquired of Pen:
+
+"A--Penfield, may I ask in which direction the tide of battle finally
+turned?"
+
+"I believe we licked 'em, grandfather," replied Pen. "We drove 'em
+into the school-house anyway."
+
+"Not, I presume, before some severe preliminary fighting had taken
+place?"
+
+"There you go again, father!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "It's nothing
+but 'fighting, fighting,' from morning to night. What kind of a man do
+you think Pen will grow up to be, with such training as this?"
+
+"A very useful, brave and patriotic citizen, I hope, my dear."
+
+"Fiddlesticks!" It was Aunt Millicent's favorite ejaculation. But the
+colonel did not refer to the battle again at the table. It was not
+until after he had retired to the library, and had taken up his
+favorite position, his back to the fire, his eyes resting on the
+silken banner in the hall, that he plied Pen with further questions.
+His daughter not being in the room he felt that he might safely resume
+the subject of the fight.
+
+"I would like a full report of the battle, Penfield," he said. "It
+appears to me that it is likely to go down as a most important event
+in the history of the school."
+
+Pen shook his head deprecatingly, but he did not at once reply.
+Impatient at the delay, which he ascribed to the modesty
+characteristic of the brave and successful soldier, the colonel began
+to make more definite inquiry.
+
+"In what manner was the engagement opened, Penfield?"
+
+And Pen replied:
+
+"Well, you know we built a snow fort in the school-house lot; and they
+sneaked up the back road, and cut across lots where we couldn't see
+'em, and jumped on us suddenly from the stone-wall."
+
+"Strategy, my boy. Military strategy deserving of a good cause. And
+how did you meet the attack?"
+
+"Why, we pulled ourselves together and went for 'em."
+
+"Well? Well? What happened?"
+
+The colonel was getting excited and impatient.
+
+"Well, we fought 'em and drove 'em down to the front of the
+school-house, and then they opened the door and sneaked in, just as I
+told you, and locked us out."
+
+"Ah! more strategy. The enemy had brains. But you should have laid
+siege and starved him out."
+
+"We did lay siege, grandfather."
+
+"And did you starve him out?"
+
+"No, they came out."
+
+"And you renewed the attack?"
+
+"Some of us did."
+
+"Well, go on! go on! What happened? Don't compel me to drag the story
+out of you piecemeal, this way."
+
+"Why, they--they played us another mean trick."
+
+"What was the nature of it?"
+
+"Well--you know that flag you gave the school?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"They carried that flag ahead of 'em, Aleck Sands had it wrapped
+around him, and then--our fellows were afraid to fight."
+
+"Strategy again. Military genius, indeed! But it strikes me, Penfield,
+that the strategy was a bit unworthy."
+
+"I thought it was a low-down trick."
+
+"Well--a--let us say that it was not the act of a brave and generous
+foe. The flag--the flag, Penfield, should be used for purposes of
+inspiration rather than protection. However, the enemy, having placed
+himself under the auspices and protection of the flag which should, in
+any event, be unassailable, I presume he marched away in safety and
+security?"
+
+"Why, no--not exactly."
+
+"Penfield, I trust that no one had the hardihood to assault the bearer
+of his country's flag?"
+
+"Grandfather, I couldn't help it. He made me mad."
+
+"Don't tell me, sir, that you so far forgot yourself as to lead an
+attack on the colors?"
+
+"No, I didn't. I pitched into him alone. I had to lick him, flag or no
+flag."
+
+"Penfield, I'm astounded! I wouldn't have thought it of you. And what
+happened, sir?"
+
+"Why, we clinched and went down."
+
+"But, the flag? the flag?"
+
+"That went down too."
+
+Colonel Butler left his place at the fire-side and crossed over to the
+table where Pen sat, in order that he might look directly down on him.
+
+"Am I to understand," he said, "that the colors of my country have
+been wantonly trailed in the mire of the street?"
+
+Under the intensity of that look, and the trembling severity of that
+voice, Pen wilted and shrank into the depths of his cushioned chair.
+He could only gasp:
+
+"I'm afraid so, grandfather."
+
+After that, for a full minute, there was silence in the room. When the
+colonel again spoke his voice was low and tremulous. It was evident
+that his patriotic nature had been deeply stirred.
+
+"In what manner," he asked, "was the flag rescued and restored to its
+proper place?"
+
+And Pen answered truthfully:
+
+"I don't know. I came away."
+
+The boy was still sunk deep in his chair, his hands were desperately
+clutching the arms of it, and on his pale face the wounds and bruises
+stood out startlingly distinct.
+
+In the colonel's breast grief and indignation were rapidly giving way
+to wrath.
+
+"And so," he added, his voice rising with every word, "you added
+insult to injury; and having forced the nation's banner to the earth,
+you deliberately turned your back on it and came away?"
+
+Pen did not answer. He could not.
+
+"I say," repeated the colonel, "you deliberately turned your back on
+it, and came away?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Colonel Butler crossed back to the fire-place, and then he strode into
+the hall. He put on his hat and was struggling into his overcoat when
+his daughter came in from the dining-room and discovered him.
+
+"Why, father!" she exclaimed, "where are you going?"
+
+"I am going," he replied, "to perform a patriotic duty."
+
+"Oh, don't go out again to-night," she pleaded. "You've had a hard
+trip to-day, and you're tired. Let Pen do your errand. Pen, come
+here!"
+
+The boy came at her bidding. The colonel paused to consider.
+
+"On second thought," he said, finally, "it may be better that I should
+not go in person. Penfield, you will go at once, wherever it may be
+necessary, and inquire as to the present condition and location of the
+American flag belonging to the Chestnut Hill school, and return and
+report to me."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Pen put on his hat and coat, took his umbrella, and went out into the
+rain. Six blocks away he stopped at Elmer Cuddeback's door and rang
+the bell. Elmer himself came in answer to the ring.
+
+"Come out on the porch a minute," said Pen. "I want to speak to you."
+
+Elmer came out and closed the door behind him.
+
+"Tell me," continued Pen, "what became of the flag this afternoon,
+after I left."
+
+"Oh, we picked it up and carried it into the school-house. Why?"
+
+"My grandfather wants to know."
+
+"Well, you can tell him it isn't hurt much. It got tore a little bit
+in one corner; and it had some dirt on it. But we cleaned her up, and
+dried her out, and put her back in her place."
+
+"Thank you for doing it."
+
+"Oh, that's all right. But, say, Pen, I'm sorry for you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"On account of what happened."
+
+"Did I hurt Aleck much?"
+
+A sudden fear of worse things had entered Pen's mind.
+
+"No, not much. He limped home by himself."
+
+"Then, what is it?"
+
+Pen knew, well enough, what it was; but he could not do otherwise than
+ask.
+
+"Why, it's because of what you did to the flag. Everybody's talking
+about it."
+
+"Let 'em talk. I don't care."
+
+But he did care, nevertheless. He went back home in a fever of
+apprehension and anxiety. Suppose his grandfather should learn the
+whole truth, as, sooner or later he surely would. What then? Pen
+decided that it would be better to tell him now.
+
+At eight o'clock, when he returned home, he found Colonel Butler still
+seated in the library, busy with a book. He removed his cap and coat
+in the hall, and went in. The colonel looked up inquiringly.
+
+"The flag," reported Pen, "was picked up by the boys, and carried back
+to the school-house. It was cleaned and dried, and put in its proper
+place."
+
+"Thank you, sir; that is all."
+
+The colonel turned his attention again to his book.
+
+Pen stood, for a moment, irresolute, before proceeding with his
+confession. Then he began:
+
+"Grandfather, I'm very sorry for what occurred, and especially--"
+
+"I do not care to hear any more to-night. Further apologies may be
+deferred to a more appropriate time."
+
+Again the colonel resumed his reading.
+
+The next day was Sunday; but, on account of the unattractive
+appearance of his face, Pen was excused from attending either church
+or Sunday-school. Monday was Washington's birthday, and a holiday, and
+there was no school. So that Pen had two whole days in which to
+recover from his wounds. But he did not so easily recover from his
+depression. Nothing more had been said by Colonel Butler about the
+battle, and Pen, on his part, did not dare again to broach the
+subject. Yet every hour that went by was filled with apprehension, and
+punctuated with false alarms. It was evident that the colonel had not
+yet heard the full story, and it was just as evident that the portion
+of it that he had heard had disturbed him almost beyond precedent. He
+was taciturn in speech, and severe and formal in manner. To misuse and
+neglect the flag of his country was, indeed, no venial offense in his
+eyes.
+
+Pen had not been out all day Monday, save to go on one or two
+unimportant errands for his aunt. Why he had not cared to go out was
+not quite clear, even to himself. Ordinarily he would have sought his
+schoolfellows, and would have exhibited his wounds, these silent and
+substantial witnesses of his personal prowess, with "pardonable
+pride." Nor did his schoolfellows come to seek him. That was strange
+too. Why had they not dropped in, as was their custom, to talk over
+the battle? It was almost dark of the second day, and not a single boy
+had been to see him or inquire for him. It was more than strange; it
+was ominous.
+
+After the evening meal Colonel Butler went out; a somewhat unusual
+occurrence, as, in his later years, he had become increasingly fond of
+his books and papers, his wood-fire and his easy chair. But, on this
+particular evening, there was to be a meeting of a certain patriotic
+society of which he was an enthusiastic member, and he felt that he
+must attend it. After he had gone Pen tried to study, but he could not
+keep his thought on his work. Then he took up a stirring piece of
+fiction and began to read: but the most exciting scenes depicted in it
+floated hazily across his mind. His Aunt Millicent tried to engage him
+in conversation, but he either could not or did not wish to talk. At
+nine o'clock he said good-night to his aunt, and retired to his room.
+At half past nine Colonel Butler returned home. His daughter went into
+the hall and greeted him and helped him off with his coat, but he
+scarcely spoke to her. When he came in under the brighter lights of
+the library, she saw that his face was haggard, his jaws set, and his
+eyes strangely bright.
+
+"What is it, father?" she said. "Something has happened."
+
+He did not reply to her question, but he asked:
+
+"Has Penfield retired?"
+
+"He went to his room a good half hour ago, father."
+
+"I desire to see him."
+
+"He may have gone to bed."
+
+"I desire to see him under any circumstances. You will please
+communicate my wish to him."
+
+"But, father--"
+
+"Did you hear me, daughter?"
+
+"Father! What terrible thing has happened?"
+
+"A thing so terrible that I desire confirmation of it from Penfield's
+lips before I shall fully believe it. You will please call him."
+
+She could not disobey that command. She went tremblingly up the stairs
+and returned in a minute or two to say:
+
+"Pen had not yet gone to bed, father. He will be down as soon as he
+puts on his coat and shoes."
+
+"Very well."
+
+Colonel Butler seated himself in his accustomed chair and awaited the
+advent of his grandson.
+
+When Pen entered the library a few minutes later, his Aunt Millicent
+was still in the room.
+
+"Millicent," said the colonel, "will you be good enough to retire for
+a time? I wish to speak to Penfield alone."
+
+She rose and started toward the hall, but turned back again.
+
+"Father," she said, "if Pen is to be reprimanded for anything he has
+done, I wish to know about it."
+
+"This is a matter," replied the colonel, severely, "that can be
+adjusted only between Penfield and me."
+
+She saw that he was determined, and left the room.
+
+When the rustle attendant upon her ascent of the staircase had died
+completely out, the colonel turned toward Pen. He spoke quietly
+enough, but with an emotion that was plainly suppressed.
+
+"Penfield, you may stand where you are and answer certain questions
+that I shall ask you."
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+"While in attendance this evening, upon a meeting of gentlemen
+gathered for a patriotic purpose, I was told that you, Penfield
+Butler, had, on Saturday last, on the school-house grounds, trodden
+deliberately on the American flag lying in the slush of the street. Is
+the story true, sir?"
+
+"Well, grandfather, it was this way. I was--"
+
+"I desire, sir, a categorical reply. Did you, or did you not, stand
+upon the American flag?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I believe I did."
+
+"I am also credibly informed that you spoke disdainfully of this
+particular American flag as a mere piece of bunting? Did you use
+those words?"
+
+"I don't know what I said, grandfather."
+
+"Is it possible that you could have spoken thus disrespectfully of
+your country's flag?"
+
+"It is possible; yes, sir."
+
+"I am further informed that, on the same occasion, in language of
+which I have no credible report, you expressed your contempt for your
+country herself. Is my information correct?"
+
+"I may have done so."
+
+Pen felt himself growing weak and unsteady under this fire of
+questions, and he moved forward a little and grasped the back of a
+chair for support. The colonel, paying no heed to the boy's pitiable
+condition, went on with his examination.
+
+"Now, then, sir," he said, "if you have any explanation to offer you
+may give it."
+
+"Well, grandfather, I was very angry at the use they'd put the flag
+to, and I--well, I didn't just know what I was doing."
+
+Pen's voice had died away almost to a whisper.
+
+"And that," said the colonel, "is your only excuse?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Except that I didn't mean it; not any of it."
+
+"Of course you didn't mean it. If you had meant it, it would have been
+a crime instead of a gross offense. But the fact remains that, in the
+heat of passion, without forethought, without regard to your patriotic
+ancestry, you have wantonly defamed your country and heaped insults on
+her flag."
+
+Pen tried to speak, but he could not. He clung to the back of his
+chair and stood mute while the colonel went on:
+
+"My paternal grandfather, sir, fought valiantly in the army of General
+Putnam in the Revolutionary war, and my maternal grandfather was an
+aide to General Washington. My father helped to storm the heights of
+Chapultepec in 1847 under that invincible commander, General Worth. I,
+myself, shared the vicissitudes of the Army of the Potomac, through
+three years of the civil war. And now it has come to this, that my
+grandson has trodden under his feet the flag for which his gallant
+ancestors fought, and has defamed the country for which they shed
+their blood."
+
+The colonel's voice had risen as he went on, until now, vibrant with
+emotion, it echoed through the room. He rose from his chair and began
+pacing up and down the library floor.
+
+Still Pen stood mute. Even if he had had the voice to speak there was
+nothing more that he could say. It seemed to him that it was hours
+that his grandfather paced the floor, and it was a relief to have him
+stop and speak again, no matter what he should say.
+
+"I have decided," said the colonel, "that you shall apologize for your
+offense. It is the least reparation that can be made. Your apology
+will be in public, at your school, and will be directed to your
+teacher, to your country, to your flag, and to Master Sands who was
+bearing the colors at the time of the assault."
+
+Before his teacher, his country and his flag, Pen would have been
+willing to humble himself into the dust. But, to apologize to Aleck
+Sands!
+
+Colonel Butler did not wait for a reply, but sat down at his desk and
+arranged his materials for writing.
+
+"I shall communicate my purpose to Miss Grey," he said, "in a letter
+which you will take to her to-morrow."
+
+Then, for the first time in many minutes, Pen found his voice.
+
+"Grandfather, I shall be glad to apologize to Miss Grey, and to my
+country, and to the flag, but is it necessary for me to apologize to
+Aleck Sands?"
+
+Colonel Butler swung around in his swivel-chair, and faced the boy
+almost savagely:
+
+"Do you presume, sir," he exclaimed, "to dictate the conditions of
+your pardon? I have fixed the terms. They shall be complied with to
+the letter--to the letter, sir. And if you refuse to abide by them you
+will be required to withdraw to the home of your maternal grandfather,
+where, I have no doubt, your conduct will be disregarded if not
+approved. But I will not harbor, under the roof of Bannerhall, a
+person who has been guilty of such disloyalty as yours, and who
+declines to apologize for his offense."
+
+Having delivered himself of this ultimatum, the colonel again turned
+to his writing-desk and proceeded to prepare his letter to Miss Grey.
+Apparently it did not occur to him that his demand, thus definitely
+made, might still be refused.
+
+After what seemed to Pen to be an interminable time, his grandfather
+ceased writing, laid aside his pen, and turned toward him holding a
+written sheet from which he read:
+
+    "Bannerhall, Chestnut Hill, Pa.
+                       February 22.
+
+    "_My dear Miss Grey:_
+
+    "It is with the deepest regret that I have to advise you that my
+    grandson, Penfield Butler, on Saturday last, by his own
+    confession, dishonored the colors belonging to your school, and
+    made certain derogatory remarks concerning his country and his
+    flag, for which offenses he desires now to make reparation. Will
+    you therefore kindly permit him, at the first possible
+    opportunity, to apologize for his reprehensible conduct, publicly,
+    to his teacher, to his country and to his flag, and especially to
+    Master Alexander Sands, the bearer of the flag, who, though not
+    without fault in the matter, was, nevertheless, at the time,
+    under the protection of the colors.
+
+    "Master Butler will report to me the fulfillment of this request.
+    With personal regards and apologies, I remain,
+
+      "Your obedient servant,
+        "Richard Butler."
+
+He folded the letter, placed it in an envelope, and handed it to Pen.
+
+"You will deliver this to Miss Grey," he said, "on your arrival at
+school to-morrow morning. That is all to-night. You may retire."
+
+Pen took the letter, thanked his grandfather, bade him good-night,
+turned and went out into the hall, and up-stairs to his room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+It is little wonder that Pen passed a sleepless night, after the
+interview with his grandfather. He realized now, perhaps better than
+any one else, the seriousness of his offense. Knowing, so well as he
+did, Colonel Butler's reverence for all things patriotic, he did not
+wonder that he should be so deeply indignant. Pen, himself, felt that
+the least he could do, under the circumstances, was to publicly
+apologize for his conduct, bitter and humiliating as it would be to
+make such an apology. And he was willing to apologize to any one, to
+anything--save Alexander Sands. To this point of reparation he could
+not bring himself. This was the problem with which he struggled
+through the night hours. It was not a question, he told himself, over
+and over again, of whether he should leave Bannerhall, with its ease
+and luxury and choice traditions, and go to live on the little farm at
+Cobb's Corners. It was a question of whether he was willing to yield
+his self-respect and manhood to the point of humbling himself before
+Alexander Sands. It was not until he heard the clock in the hall
+strike three that he reached his decision.
+
+And his decision was, to comply, in full, with his grandfather's
+demand--and remain at Bannerhall.
+
+At the breakfast table the next morning Colonel Butler was still
+reticent and taciturn. He had passed an uncomfortable night and was in
+no mood for conversation. He did not refer, in any way, to the matters
+which had been discussed the evening before; and when Pen, with the
+letter in his pocket, started for school, the situation was entirely
+unchanged. But, somehow, in the freshness of the morning, under the
+cheerful rays of an unclouded sun, the task that had been set for Pen
+did not seem to him to be quite so difficult and repulsive as it had
+seemed the night before. He even deigned to whistle as he went down
+the path to the street. But he noticed, as he passed along through the
+business section of the town, that people whom he knew looked at him
+curiously, and that those who spoke to him did so with scant courtesy.
+Across the street, from the corner of his eye, he saw one man call
+another man's attention to him, and both men turned their heads, for a
+moment, to watch him. A little farther along he caught sight of Elmer
+Cuddeback, his bosom companion, a half block ahead, and he called out
+to him:
+
+"Hey! Elmer, wait a minute!"
+
+But Elmer did not wait. He looked back to see who had called to him,
+and then he replied:
+
+"I can't! I got to catch up with Jimmie Morrissey."
+
+And he started off on a run. This was the cut direct. There was no
+mistaking it. It sent a new fear to Pen's heart. It served to explain
+why his schoolfellows had not been to see him and sympathize with him.
+He had not before fully considered what effect his conduct of the
+previous Saturday might have upon those who had been his best friends.
+But Elmer's action was suspiciously expressive. It was more than that,
+it was ominous and forbidding. Pen trudged on alone. A group of a
+half dozen boys who had heretofore recognized him as their leader,
+turned a corner into Main street, and went down on the other side. He
+did not call to them, nor did they pay any attention to him, except
+that, once or twice, some of them looked back, apparently to see
+whether he was approaching them. But his ears burned. He knew they
+were discussing his fault.
+
+In the school-house yard another group of boys was gathered. They were
+so earnestly engaged in conversation that they did not notice Pen's
+approach until he was nearly on them. Then one of them gave a low
+whistle and instantly the talking ceased.
+
+"Hello, fellows!" Pen made his voice and manner as natural and easy as
+determined effort could make them.
+
+Two or three of them answered "Hello!" in an indifferent way;
+otherwise none of them spoke to him.
+
+If the battle of Chestnut Hill had ended when the enemy had been
+driven into the school-house, and if the conquering troops had then
+gone home proclaiming their victory, these same boys who were now
+treating him with such cold indifference, would have been flinging
+their arms about his shoulders this morning, and proclaiming him to
+the world as a hero; and Pen knew it. With flushed face and sinking
+heart he turned away and entered the school-house.
+
+Aleck Sands was already there, sitting back in a corner, surrounded by
+sympathizing friends. He still bore marks of the fray.
+
+As Pen came in some one in the group said:
+
+"Here he comes now."
+
+Another one added:
+
+"Hasn't he got the nerve though, to show himself after what he done to
+the flag?"
+
+And a third one, not to be outdone, declared:
+
+"Aw! He's a reg'lar Benedic' Arnold."
+
+Pen heard it all, as they had intended he should. He stopped in the
+aisle and faced them. The grief and despair that he had felt outside
+when his own comrades had ignored him, gave place now to a sudden
+blazing up of the old wrath. He did not raise his voice; but every
+word he spoke was alive with anger.
+
+"You cowardly puppies! You talk about the flag! The only flag you're
+fit to live under is the black flag, with skull and cross-bones on
+it."
+
+Then he turned on his heel and marched up the aisle to where Miss Grey
+was seated at her desk. He took Colonel Butler's letter from his
+pocket and handed it to her.
+
+"My grandfather," he said, "wishes me to give you this letter."
+
+She looked up at him with a grieved and troubled face.
+
+"Oh, Pen!" she exclaimed, despairingly, "what have you done, and why
+did you do it?"
+
+She was fond of the boy. He was her brightest and most gentlemanly
+pupil. On only one or two other occasions, during the years of her
+authority, had she found it necessary to reprimand him for giving way
+to sudden fits of passion leading to infraction of her rules. So that
+it was with deep and real sorrow that she deplored his recent conduct
+and his present position.
+
+"I don't know," he answered her. "I guess my temper got the best of
+me, that's all."
+
+"But, Pen, I don't know what to do. I'm simply at my wit's end."
+
+"I'm sorry to have given you so much trouble, Miss Grey," he replied.
+"But when it comes to punishing me, I think the letter will help you
+out."
+
+The bell had stopped ringing. The boys and girls had crowded in and
+were already seated, awaiting the opening of school. Pen turned away
+from his teacher and started down the aisle toward his seat, facing
+his fellow-pupils as he went.
+
+And then something happened; something unusual and terrible; something
+so terrible that Pen's face went pale, he paused a moment and looked
+ahead of him as though in doubt whether his ears had deceived him, and
+then he dropped weakly into his seat. They had hissed him. From a far
+corner of the room came the first sibilant sound, followed at once by
+a chorus of hisses that struck straight to the boy's heart, and echoed
+through his mind for years.
+
+Miss Grey sprang to her feet. For the first time in all the years she
+had taught them her pupils saw her fired with anger. She brought her
+gavel down on the table with a bang.
+
+"This is disgraceful!" she exclaimed. "We are in a school-room, not in
+a goose-pond, nor in a den of snakes. I want every one who has hissed
+to remain here when school closes at noon."
+
+But it was not until after the opening exercises had been concluded,
+and the younger children had gone out to the room of the assistant
+teacher, that she found an opportunity to read Colonel Butler's
+letter. It did help her out, as Pen had said it would. She resolved to
+act immediately upon the request contained in it, before calling any
+classes. She rose in her place.
+
+"I have an unpleasant duty to perform," she said. "I hoped, when I
+gave you boys permission to have the snowball fight, that it would
+result in permanent peace among you. It has, apparently, served only
+to embitter you more deeply against each other. The school colors have
+been removed from the building without authority. With those guilty of
+this offense I shall deal hereafter. The flag has been abused and
+thrown into the slush of the street. As to this I shall not now decide
+whose was the greater fault. But one, at least, of those concerned in
+such treatment of our colors has realized the seriousness of his
+misconduct, and desires to apologize for it, to his teacher, to his
+country, to his flag, and to the one who was carrying it at the time
+of the assault. Penfield, you may come to the platform."
+
+But Pen did not stir. He sat there as though made of stone, that awful
+hiss still sounding in his ears. Miss Grey's voice came to him as from
+some great distance. He did not seem to realize what she was saying to
+him. She saw his white face, and the vacant look in his eyes, and she
+pitied him; but she had her duty to perform.
+
+"Penfield," she repeated, "will you please come to the platform? We
+are waiting for your apology."
+
+This time Pen heard her and roused himself. He rose slowly to his
+feet; but he did not move from his place. He spoke from where he
+stood.
+
+"Miss Grey," he said, "after what has occurred here this morning, I
+have decided--not--to--apologize."
+
+He bent over, picked up his books from the desk in front of him,
+stepped out into the aisle, walked deliberately down between rows of
+astounded schoolmates to the vestibule, put on his cap and coat, and
+went out into the street.
+
+No one called him back. He would not have gone if any one had. He
+turned his face toward home. Whether or not people looked at him
+curiously as he passed, he neither knew nor cared. He had been hissed
+in public by his schoolfellows. No condemnation could be more severe
+than this, or lead to deeper humiliation. Strong men have quailed
+under this repulsive and terrible form of public disapproval. It is
+little wonder that a mere schoolboy should be crushed by it. That he
+could never go back to Miss Grey's school was perfectly plain to him.
+That, having refused to apologize, he could not remain at Bannerhall,
+was equally certain. One path only remained open to him, and that was
+the snow-filled, country road leading to his grandfather Walker's
+humble abode at Cobb's Corners.
+
+When he reached home he found that his grandfather and his Aunt
+Millicent had gone down the river road for a sleigh-ride. He did not
+wait to consider anything, for there was really nothing to consider.
+He went up to his room, packed his suit-case with some clothing and a
+few personal belongings, and came down stairs and left his baggage in
+the hall while he went into the library and wrote a letter to his
+grandfather. When it was finished he read it over to himself, aloud:
+
+    "_Dear Grandfather:_
+
+    "After what happened at school this morning it was impossible for
+    me to apologize, and keep any of my self-respect. So I am going to
+    Cobb's Corners to live with my mother and Grandpa Walker, as you
+    wished. Good-by!
+
+      "Your affectionate grandson,
+        "Penfield Butler."
+
+    "P. S. Please give my love to Aunt Millicent."
+
+He enclosed the letter in an envelope, addressed it, and left it lying
+on the library table. Then he put on his cap and coat, took his
+suit-case, and went out into the sunlight of the winter morning. At
+the entrance gate he turned and looked back at Bannerhall, the wide
+lawn, the noble trees, the big brick house with its hospitable porch,
+the window of his own room, facing the street. Something rose in his
+throat and choked him a little, but his eyes were dry as he turned
+away. He knew the road to Cobb's Corners very well indeed. He had made
+frequent visits to his mother there in the summer time. For,
+notwithstanding his forbidding attitude, Colonel Butler recognized the
+instinct that drew mother and child together, and never sought to deny
+it proper expression. But it was hard traveling on the road to-day,
+especially with a burden to carry, and Pen was glad when Henry Cobb, a
+neighbor of Grandpa Walker, came along with horse and sleigh and
+invited him to ride.
+
+It was just after noon when he reached his grandfather's house, and
+the members of the family were at dinner. They looked up in
+astonishment when he entered.
+
+"Why, Pen!" exclaimed his mother, "whatever brings you here to-day?"
+
+"I've come to stay with you awhile, mother," he replied, "if grandpa
+'ll take me in."
+
+"Of course grandpa 'll take you in."
+
+And then, as mothers will, especially surprised mothers, she fell on
+his neck and kissed him, and smiled through her tears.
+
+"Well, I dunno," said Grandpa Walker, facetiously, balancing a
+good-sized morsel of food carefully on the blade of his knife, "that
+depen's on wuther ye're willin' to take pot-luck with us or not."
+
+"I'm willing to take anything with you," replied Pen, "if you'll give
+me a home till I can shift for myself."
+
+He went around the table and kissed his grandmother who had, for
+years, been partially paralyzed, shook hands with his Uncle Joseph and
+Aunt Miranda, and greeted their little brood of offspring cheerfully.
+
+"What's happened to ye, anyhow?" asked Grandpa Walker when the
+greetings were over and a place had been prepared for Pen at the
+table. "Dick Butler kick ye out; did he?"
+
+"Not exactly," was the reply. "But he told me I couldn't stay there
+unless I did a certain thing, and I didn't do it--I couldn't do
+it--and so I came away."
+
+"Jes' so. That's Dick Butler to a T. Ef ye don't give him his own way
+in everything he aint no furder use for ye. Well, eat your dinner now,
+an' tell us about it later."
+
+So Pen ate his dinner. He was hungry, and, for the time being at
+least, the echo of that awful hiss was not ringing in his ears. But
+they would not let him finish eating until he had told them, in
+detail, the cause of his coming. He made the story as brief as
+possible, neither seeking to excuse himself nor to lay the blame on
+others.
+
+"Well," was Grandpa Walker's comment when the recital was finished, "I
+dunno but what ye done all right enough. They ain't one o' them blame
+little scalawags down to Chestnut Valley, but what deserves a good
+thrashin' on gen'al principles. They yell names at me every time I go
+down to mill, an' then cut an' run like blazes 'fore I can git at 'em
+with a hoss-whip. I'm glad somebody's hed the grace to wallop 'em. And
+es for Dick Butler; he's too allfired pompous an' domineerin' for
+anybody to live with, anyhow. Lets on he was a great soldier! Humph!
+I've known him--"
+
+"Hush, father!"
+
+It was Pen's mother who spoke. The old man turned toward her abruptly.
+
+"You ain't got no call," he said, "to stick up for Dick Butler."
+
+"I know," she replied. "But he's Pen's grandfather, and it isn't nice
+to abuse him in Pen's presence."
+
+"Well, mebbe that's so."
+
+He rose from the table, got his pipe from the mantel, filled it and
+lighted it, and went over and deposited his somewhat ponderous body in
+a cushioned chair by the window. Pen's mother and aunt pushed the
+wheel-chair in which Grandma Walker sat, to one side of the room, and
+began to clear the dishes from the table.
+
+"Well," said the old man, between his puffs of smoke, "now ye're here,
+what ye goin' to do here?"
+
+"Anything you have for me to do, grandpa," replied Pen.
+
+"I don't see's I can send ye to school."
+
+"I'd rather not go to school. I'd rather work--do chores, anything."
+
+"All right! I guess we can keep ye from rustin'. They's plenty to do,
+and I ain't so soople as I was at sixty."
+
+He looked the embodiment of physical comfort, with his round, fresh
+face, and the fringe of gray whiskers under his chin, as he sat at
+ease in his big chair by the window, puffing lazily at his pipe.
+
+So Pen stayed. There was no doubt but that he earned his keep. He did
+chores. He chopped wood. He brought water from the well. He fed the
+horse and the cows, the chickens and the pigs. He drove Old Charlie in
+the performance of any work requiring the assistance of a horse. He
+was busy from morning to night. He slept in a cold room, he was up
+before daylight, he was out in all kinds of weather, he did all kinds
+of tasks. There were sore muscles and aching bones, indeed, before he
+had hardened himself to his work; for physical labor was new to him;
+but he never shirked nor complained. Moreover he was treated kindly,
+he had plenty to eat, and he shared in whatever diversions the family
+could afford. Then, too, he had his mother to comfort him, to cheer
+him, to sympathize with him, and to be, ever more and more, his
+confidante and companion.
+
+And Grandpa Walker, relieved of nearly all laborious activities about
+the place, much to his enjoyment, spent his time reading, smoking and
+dozing through the days of late winter and early spring, and
+discussing politics and big business in the country store at the
+cross-roads of an evening.
+
+One afternoon, about the middle of March, as the old man was rousing
+himself from his after-dinner nap, two men drove up to the Walker
+homestead, tied their horse at the gate, came up the path to the house
+and knocked at the door. He, himself, answered the knock.
+
+"Yes," he said in response to their inquiry, "I'm Enos Walker, and I'm
+to hum."
+
+The spokesman of the two was a tall young man with a very black
+moustache and a merry twinkle in his eyes.
+
+"We're glad to see you, Mr. Walker," he declared. "My name is Hubert
+Morrissey, and the gentleman who is with me is Mr. Frank Campbell.
+We're on a hunting expedition."
+
+"Perty late in the season fer huntin', ain't it? The law's on most
+everything now."
+
+"I don't think the law's on what we're hunting for."
+
+"What ye huntin' fer?"
+
+"Spruce trees."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Spruce trees. Or, rather, one spruce tree."
+
+"Well, ye wouldn't have to shoot so allfired straight to hit one in
+these parts. I've got a swamp full of 'em down here."
+
+"So we understand. But we want a choice one."
+
+"I've got some that can't be beat this side the White mountains."
+
+"We've learned that also. We took the liberty of looking over your
+spruce grove on our way up here."
+
+"Well; they didn't nobody hender ye, did they?"
+
+"No. We found what we were looking for, all right."
+
+"Jes' so. Come in an' set down."
+
+Grandpa Walker moved ponderously from the doorway in which he had been
+standing, to his comfortable chair by the window, seated himself,
+picked up his pipe from the window-sill, filled it, lighted it and
+began puffing. The two men entered the room, closing the door behind
+them, and found chairs for themselves and occupied them. Then the
+conversation was renewed.
+
+"We'll be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Walker," said Hubert
+Morrissey, "and tell you what we want and why we want it. It is
+proposed to erect a first-class liberty-pole in the school-yard at
+Chestnut Hill. A handsome American flag has already been given to the
+school. The next thing in order of course is the pole. Mr. Campbell
+and I have been authorized to find a spruce tree that will fill the
+bill, buy it, and have it cut and trimmed and hauled to town while the
+snow is still on. It has to be dressed, seasoned, painted, and ready
+to plant by the time the frost goes out, and there isn't a day to
+lose. There, Mr. Walker, that is our errand."
+
+"Jes' so. Found the tree did ye? down in my swamp?"
+
+"We certainly did."
+
+"Nice tree, is it? What ye was lookin' fer?"
+
+"It's a beauty! Just what we want. I know it isn't just the thing to
+crack up the goods you're trying to buy from the other fellow, but we
+want to be perfectly fair with you, Mr. Walker. We want to pay you
+what the tree is worth. Suppose we go down the hill and look it over,
+and then you can doubtless give us your price on it."
+
+"'Tain't ne'sary to go down an' look it over. I know the tree ye've
+got your eye on."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Oh, sort o' guessed it. It's the one by the corner o' the rail fence
+on the fu'ther side o' the brook as ye go in from the road."
+
+"That's a good guess. It's the very tree. Now then, what about the
+price?"
+
+The old man pulled on his pipe for a moment with rather more than his
+usual vigor, then removed it from his mouth and faced his visitors.
+
+"Want to buy that tree, do ye?" he asked.
+
+"Sure we want to buy it."
+
+"Cash down, jedgment note, or what?"
+
+The man with the black moustache smiled broadly, showing an even row
+of white teeth.
+
+"Cash down," he replied. "Gold, silver or greenbacks as you prefer.
+Every dollar in your hands before an axe touches the tree."
+
+Grandpa Walker inserted the stem of his pipe between his teeth, and
+again lapsed into a contemplative mood. After a moment he broke the
+silence by asking:
+
+"Got the flag, hev ye?"
+
+"Yes; we have the flag."
+
+"Might I be so bold as to ask what the flag cost?"
+
+"It was given to the school."
+
+"Air ye tellin' who give it?"
+
+"Why, there's no secret about it. Colonel Butler gave the flag."
+
+"Dick Butler?"
+
+"Colonel Richard Butler; yes."
+
+It was gradually filtering into the mind of Mr. Hubert Morrissey that
+for some reason the owner of the tree was harboring a resentment
+against the giver of the flag. Then he suddenly recalled the fact that
+Mr. Walker was the father of Colonel Butler's daughter-in-law, and
+that the relation between the two men had been somewhat strained. But
+Grandpa Walker was now ready with another question:
+
+"Is Colonel Richard Butler a givin' the pole too?"
+
+"Why, yes, I believe he furnishes the pole also."
+
+"It was him 't sent ye out here a lookin' fer one; was it?"
+
+"He asked us to hunt one up for him, certainly."
+
+"Told ye, when ye found one 't was right, to git it? Not to haggle
+about the price, but git it an' pay fer it? Told ye that, didn't he?"
+
+"Well, if it wasn't just that it was first cousin to it."
+
+"Jes' so. Well, you go back to Chestnut Hill, an' you go to Colonel
+Richard Butler, an' you tell Colonel Richard Butler that ef he wants
+to buy a spruce tree from Enos Walker of Cobb's Corners, to come here
+an' bargain fer it himself. He'll find me to hum most any day. How's
+the sleighin'?"
+
+"Pretty fair. But, Mr. Walker--"
+
+"No buts, ner ifs, ner ands. Ye heard what I said, an' I stan' by it
+till the crack o' jedgment."
+
+The old man rose, knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put the pipe
+in his vest pocket, stretched himself, and reached for his cap. It was
+plain that he considered the interview at an end. The persuasive Mr.
+Morrissey tried to get a wedge in somewhere to reopen it, but he tried
+in vain. Enos Walker was adamant. So, disappointed and discomfited,
+the emissaries of Colonel Richard Butler bade "good-day," to the
+oracle of Cobb's Corners, and drove back to Chestnut Hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+On the morning after the interview with Enos Walker, Mr. Morrissey and
+Mr. Campbell went up to Bannerhall to report to Colonel Richard
+Butler. But they went hesitatingly. Indeed, it had been a question in
+their minds whether it would not be wiser to say nothing to Colonel
+Butler concerning their experience at Cobb's Corners, and simply to go
+elsewhere and hunt up another tree. But Mr. Walker's tree was such a
+model of perfection for their purpose, the possibility of finding
+another one that would even approach it in suitability was so
+extremely remote, that the two gentlemen, after serious discussion of
+the question, being well aware of Colonel Butler's idiosyncrasies,
+decided, finally, to put the whole case up to him, and to accept
+cheerfully whatever he might have in store for them. There was one
+chance in a hundred that the colonel, instead of scornfully resenting
+Enos Walker's proposal, might take the matter philosophically and
+accept the old man's terms. They thought it better to take that
+chance.
+
+They found Colonel Butler in his office adjoining the library. He was
+in an ordinarily cheerful mood, although the deep shadows under his
+eyes, noticeable only within the last few weeks, indicated that he had
+been suffering either in mind or in body, perhaps in both.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," he said when his visitors were seated; "what about
+the arboreal errand? Did you find a tree?"
+
+Mr. Hubert Morrissey, as he had been the day before, was again,
+to-day, the spokesman for his committee of two.
+
+"We found a tree," he replied.
+
+"One in all respects satisfactory I hope?" the colonel inquired.
+
+"Eminently satisfactory," was the answer. "In fact a perfect beauty. I
+doubt if it has its equal in this section of the state. Wouldn't you
+say so, Mr. Campbell?"
+
+"I fully agree with you," replied Mr. Campbell. "It's without a peer."
+
+"How will it measure?" inquired the colonel.
+
+"I should say," responded Mr. Morrissey, "that it will dress up to
+about twelve inches at the base, and will stand about fifty feet to
+the ball on the summit. Shouldn't you say so, Mr. Campbell?"
+
+"Just about," was the reply. "Not an inch under those figures, in my
+judgment."
+
+"Good!" exclaimed the colonel. "Permit me to congratulate you,
+gentlemen. You have performed a distinct public service. You deserve
+the thanks of the entire community."
+
+"But, colonel," said Mr. Morrissey with some hesitation, "we were not
+quite able to close a satisfactory bargain with the owner of the
+tree."
+
+"That is unfortunate, gentlemen. You should not have permitted a few
+dollars to stand in the way of securing your prize. I thought I gave
+you a perfectly free hand to do as you thought best."
+
+"So you did, colonel. But the hitch was not so much over a matter of
+price as over a matter of principle."
+
+"Over a matter of principle? I don't understand you, sir. How could
+any citizen of this free country object, as a matter of principle, to
+having his tree converted into a staff from the summit of which the
+emblem of liberty might be flung to the breeze? Especially when he was
+free to name his own price for the tree."
+
+"But he wouldn't name any price."
+
+"Did he refuse to sell?"
+
+"Not exactly; but he wouldn't bargain except on a condition that we
+were unable to meet."
+
+"What condition? Who is the man? Where does he live?"
+
+Colonel Butler was growing plainly impatient over the obstructive
+tactics in which the owner of the tree had indulged.
+
+"He lives," replied Mr. Morrissey, "at Cobb's Corners. His name is
+Enos Walker. His condition is that you go to him in person to bargain
+for the tree. There's the situation, colonel. Now you have it all."
+
+The veteran of the Civil War straightened up in his chair, threw back
+his shoulders, and gazed at his visitors in silence. Surprise, anger,
+contempt; these were the emotions the shadows of which successively
+overspread his face.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, at last, "are you aware what a preposterous
+proposition you have brought to me?"
+
+"It is not our proposition, colonel."
+
+"I know it is not, sir. You are simply the bearers of it. Permit me to
+ask you, however, if it is your recommendation that I yield to the
+demand of this crude highwayman of Cobb's Corners?"
+
+"Why, Mr. Campbell and I have talked the matter over, and, in view of
+the fact that this appears to be the only available tree within easy
+reach, and is so splendidly adapted to our purposes, we have thought
+that possibly you might suggest some method whereby--"
+
+"Gentlemen--" Colonel Butler had risen from his chair and was pacing
+angrily up and down the room. His face was flushed and his fingers
+were working nervously. "Gentlemen--" he interrupted--"my fortune is
+at your disposal. Purchase the tree where you will; on the hills of
+Maine, in the swamps of Georgia, on the plains of California. But do
+not suggest to me, gentlemen; do not dare to suggest to me that I
+yield to the outrageous demand of this person who has made you the
+bearers of his impertinent ultimatum."
+
+Mr. Morrissey rose in his turn, followed by Mr. Campbell.
+
+"Very well, colonel," said the spokesman. "We will try to procure the
+tree elsewhere. We thought it no more than right to report to you
+first what we had done. That is the situation is it not, Mr.
+Campbell?"
+
+"That is the situation, exactly," assented Mr. Campbell.
+
+The colonel had reached the window in his round of the room, and had
+stopped there.
+
+"That was quite the thing to do, gentlemen," he replied.
+"A--quite--the thing--to do."
+
+He stood gazing intently out through the window at the banks of snow
+settling and wasting under the bright March sunshine. Not that his
+eyes had been attracted to anything in particular on his lawn, but
+that a thought had entered his mind which demanded, for the moment,
+his undivided attention.
+
+His two visitors stood waiting, somewhat awkwardly, for him to turn
+again toward them, but he did not do so. At last Mr. Morrissey plucked
+up courage to break in on his host's reverie.
+
+"I--I think we understand you now, colonel," he said. "We'll go
+elsewhere and do the best we can."
+
+Colonel Butler faced away from the window and came back into the room.
+
+"Pardon me, gentlemen," he said. "My mind was temporarily occupied by
+a thought that has come to me in this matter. Upon further
+consideration it occurs to me that it may be expedient for me to yield
+on this occasion to Mr. Walker's request, and visit him in person. In
+the meantime you may suspend operations. I will advise you later of
+the outcome of my plans."
+
+"You are undoubtedly wise, colonel," replied Mr. Morrissey, "to make a
+further effort to secure this particular tree. Wouldn't you say so,
+Mr. Campbell?"
+
+"Undoubtedly!" replied Mr. Campbell with some warmth.
+
+So the matter was left in that way. Colonel Butler was to inform his
+agents what, if anything, he had been able to accomplish by means of a
+personal interview with Mr. Walker, always assuming that he should
+finally and definitely decide to seek such an interview. And Mr.
+Hubert Morrissey and Mr. Frank Campbell bowed themselves out of
+Colonel Butler's presence.
+
+While the cause of this sudden change of attitude on Colonel Butler's
+part remained a mystery to his two visitors, it was, in reality, not
+far to seek. For, as he looked out at his window that March morning,
+he saw, not the bare trees on the lawn, not the brown hedge or the
+beaten roadway; he saw, out somewhere among the snow-covered fields,
+laboring as a farmer's boy, enduring the privations of a humble home,
+and the limitations of a narrow environment, the lad who for a dozen
+years had been his solace and his pride, the light and the life of
+Bannerhall. How sadly he missed the boy, no one, save perhaps his
+faithful daughter, had any conception. And she knew it, not because of
+any word of complaint that had escaped his lips, but because every
+look and mood and motion told her the story. He would not send for
+his grandson; he would not ask him to come back; he would not force
+him to come. It was a piece of childish folly on the boy's part no
+doubt, this going away; due to his impetuous nature and his immature
+years; but, he had made his bed, now let him lie in it till he should
+come to a realization of what he had done, and, like the prodigal son
+of old, should come back of his own accord, and ask to be forgiven.
+Yet the days went by, and the weeks grew long, and no prodigal
+returned. There was no abatement of determination on the grandfather's
+part, but the idea grew slowly in his mind that if by some chance, far
+removed from even the suspicion of design, they should encounter each
+other, he and the boy, face to face, in the village street, on the
+open road, in field or farm-house, something might be said or done
+that would lead to the longed-for reconciliation. It was the practical
+application of this thought that led to his change of attitude that
+morning in the presence of his visitors. He would have a legitimate
+errand to the home of Enos Walker. The incidental opportunities that
+might lie in the path of such an errand properly fulfilled, were not
+to be lightly ignored nor peremptorily dismissed. At any rate the
+matter was worth careful consideration. He considered it, and made his
+decision.
+
+That afternoon, after his daughter Millicent had gone down into the
+village in entire ignorance of any purpose that he might have had to
+leave the house, he ordered his horse and cutter for a drive. Later he
+changed the order, and directed that his team and two-seated sleigh be
+brought to the door. It had occurred to him that there was a bare
+possibility that he might have a passenger on his return trip. Then he
+arrayed himself in knee-high rubber boots, a heavy overcoat, and a fur
+cap. At three o'clock he entered his sleigh and directed his driver to
+proceed with all reasonable haste to Cobb's Corners.
+
+Out in the country where the winds of winter had piled the snow into
+long heaps, the beaten track was getting soft, and it was necessary to
+exercise some care in order to prevent the horses from slumping
+through the drifts to the road-bed. And on the westerly slope of
+Baldwin's Hill the ground in the middle of the road was bare for at
+least forty rods. But, from that point on, whether his progress was
+fast or slow, Colonel Butler scrutinized the way ahead of him, and the
+farm-houses that he passed, with painstaking care. He was not looking
+for any spruce tree here, no matter how straight and tall. But if
+haply some farmer's boy should be out on an errand for the master of
+the farm, it would be inexcusable to pass him negligently by; that was
+all. And yet his vigilance met with no reward. He had not caught the
+remotest glimpse of such a boy when his sleigh drew up at Enos
+Walker's gate.
+
+The unusual jingling of bells brought Sarah Butler and her sister to
+the window of the sitting-room to see who it was that was bringing
+such a flood of tinkling music up the road.
+
+"For the land sakes!" exclaimed the sister; "it's Richard Butler, and
+he's stopping here. I bet a cookie he's come after Pen."
+
+But Pen's mother did not respond. Her heart was beating too fast, she
+could not speak.
+
+"You've got to go to the door, Sarah," continued the sister; "I'm not
+dressed."
+
+Colonel Butler was already on his way up the path, and, a moment
+later, his knock was heard at the door. It was opened by Sarah Butler
+who stood there facing him with outward calmness. Evidently the
+colonel had not anticipated seeing her, and, for the moment, he was
+apparently disconcerted. But he recovered himself at once and inquired
+courteously if Mr. Walker was at home. It was the third time in his
+life that he had spoken to his daughter-in-law. The first time was
+when she returned from her bridal trip, and the interview on that
+occasion had been brief and decisive. The second time was when her
+husband was lying dead in the modest home to which he had taken her.
+Now he had spoken to her again, and this time there was no bitterness
+in his tone nor iciness in his manner.
+
+"Yes," she replied; "father is somewhere about. If you will please
+come in and be seated I will try to find him."
+
+He followed her into the sitting-room, and took the chair that she
+placed for him.
+
+"I beg that you will not put yourself to too much trouble," he said,
+"in trying to find him; although I desire to see him on a somewhat
+important errand."
+
+"It will not be the slightest trouble," she assured him.
+
+But, as she turned to go, he added as though a new thought had come to
+him:
+
+"Perhaps you have some young person about the premises whom you could
+send out in search of Mr. Walker, and thus save yourself the effort of
+finding him."
+
+"No," she replied. "There is no young person here. I will go myself.
+It will take but a minute or two."
+
+It was a feeble attempt on his part, and it had been quickly foiled.
+So there was nothing for him to do but to sit quietly in the chair
+that had been placed for him, and await the coming of Enos Walker.
+
+Yet he could not help but wonder as he sat there, what had become of
+Pen. She had said that there was no young person there. Was the boy's
+absence only temporary, or had he left the home of his maternal
+grandfather and gone to some place still more remote and
+inaccessible? He was consumed with a desire to know; but he would not
+have made the inquiry, save as a matter of life and death.
+
+It was fully five minutes later that the guest in the sitting-room
+heard some one stamping the snow off his boots in the kitchen
+adjoining, then the door of the room was opened, and Enos Walker stood
+on the threshold. His trousers were tucked into the tops of his boots,
+his heavy reefer jacket was tightly buttoned, and his cloth cap was
+still on his head.
+
+"Good afternoon, Mr. Butler," he said. "I'm pleased to see ye. I
+didn't know as ye'd think it wuth while to come."
+
+"It is always worth while," replied the colonel, "to meet a business
+proposition frankly and fairly. I am here, at your suggestion, to
+discuss with you the matter of the purchase of a certain tree."
+
+Grandpa Walker advanced into the room, closing the door behind him,
+went over to the window, laid aside his cap, and dropped into his
+accustomed chair.
+
+"Jes' so," he said. "Set down, an' we'll talk it over." When the
+colonel was seated he continued: "They tell me ye want to buy a
+spruce tree. Is that right?"
+
+"That is correct."
+
+"Want it fer a flag-pole, eh?"
+
+"Yes. It is proposed to erect a staff on the school grounds at
+Chestnut Hill."
+
+"Jes' so. In that case ye want a perty good one. Tall, straight,
+slender, small-limbed; proper in every way."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Well, I've got it."
+
+"So I have heard. I have come to bargain for it."
+
+"All right! Want to look at it fust, I s'pose."
+
+"I have come prepared to inspect it."
+
+"That's business. I'll go down to the swamp with ye an' we'll look her
+over."
+
+Grandpa Walker rose from his chair and replaced his cap on his head.
+
+"Is the tree located at some distance from the house?" inquired the
+colonel.
+
+"Oh, mebbe a quarter of a mile; mebbe not so fer."
+
+"A--have you some young person about, whom you could send with me to
+inspect it, and thus save yourself the trouble of tramping through the
+snow?"
+
+Grandpa Walker looked at his visitor curiously before replying.
+
+"No," he said, after a moment, "I ain't. I've got a young feller
+stoppin' with me; but he started up to Henry Cobb's about two o'clock.
+How fer beyond Henry's he's got by this time I can't say. I ain't so
+soople as I was once, that's a fact. But when it comes to trampin'
+through the woods, snow er no snow, I reckon I can hold up my end with
+anybody that wears boots. Ef ye're ready, come along!"
+
+A look of disappointment came into the colonel's face. He did not
+move. After a moment he said:
+
+"On second thought, I believe I will not take the time nor the trouble
+to inspect the tree."
+
+"Don't want it, eh?"
+
+"Yes, I want it. I'll take it on your recommendation and that of my
+agents, Messrs. Morrissey and Campbell. If you'll name your price I'll
+pay you for it."
+
+Grandpa Walker went back and sat down in his cushioned chair by the
+window. He laid his cap aside, picked up his pipe from the
+window-sill, lighted it, and began to smoke.
+
+"Well," he said, at last, "that's a prime tree. That tree's wuth
+money."
+
+"Undoubtedly, sir; undoubtedly; but how much money?"
+
+The old man puffed for a moment in silence. Then he asked:
+
+"Want it fer a liberty-pole, do ye?"
+
+"I want it for a liberty-pole."
+
+"To put the school flag on?"
+
+"To put the school flag on."
+
+There was another moment of silence.
+
+"They say," remarked the old man, inquiringly, "that you gave the
+flag?"
+
+"I gave the flag."
+
+"Then, by cracky! I'll give the pole."
+
+Enos Walker rose vigorously to his feet in order properly to emphasize
+his offer. Colonel Butler did not respond. This sudden turn of affairs
+had almost taken away his breath. Then a grim smile stole slowly into
+his face. The humor of the situation began to appeal to him.
+
+"Permit me to commend you," he said, "for your liberality and
+patriotism."
+
+"I didn't fight in no Civil War," added the old man, emphatically;
+"but I ain't goin' to hev it said by nobody that Enos Walker ever
+profited a penny on a pole fer his country's flag."
+
+The old soldier's smile broadened.
+
+"Good!" he exclaimed. "That's very good. We'll stand together as joint
+donors of the emblem of freedom."
+
+"And I ain't ashamed of it nuther," cried the new partner, "an' here's
+my hand on it."
+
+The two men shook hands, and this time Colonel Richard Butler laughed
+outright.
+
+"This is fine," he said. "I'll send men to-morrow to cut the tree
+down, trim it, and haul it to town. There's no time to lose. The roads
+are getting soft. Why, half of Baldwin's Hill is already bare."
+
+He started toward the door, but his host called him back.
+
+"Don't be in a hurry," said Grandpa Walker. "Set down a while, can't
+ye? Have a piece o' pie or suthin. Or a glass o' cider."
+
+"Thank you! Nothing at all. I'm in some haste. It's getting late.
+And--I desire to make a brief call on Henry Cobb before returning
+home."
+
+The old man made no further effort to detain his visitor; but he gave
+him a cordial invitation to come again, shook hands with him at the
+door, and watched him half way down to the gate. When he turned and
+re-entered his house he found his two daughters already in the
+sitting-room.
+
+"Did he come for Pen?" asked Sarah Butler, breathlessly.
+
+"Ef he did," replied her father, "he didn't say so. He wanted my
+spruce tree, and I give it to him. And I want to tell ye one thing
+fu'ther. I've got a sort o' sneakin' notion that Colonel Richard
+Butler of Chestnut Hill ain't more'n about one-quarter's bad as he's
+be'n painted."
+
+Henry Cobb's residence was scarcely a half mile beyond the home of
+Enos Walker. It was the most imposing farm-house in that
+neighborhood, splendidly situated on high ground, with a rare outlook
+to the south and east. Mr. Cobb himself was just emerging from the
+open door of a great barn that fronted the road as Colonel Butler
+drove up. He came out to the sleigh and greeted the occupant of it
+cordially. The two men were old friends.
+
+"It's a magnificent view you have here," said the colonel;
+"magnificent!"
+
+"Yes," was the reply, "we rather enjoy it. I've lived in this
+neighborhood all my life, and the longer I live here the better I like
+it."
+
+"That's the proper spirit, sir, the proper spirit."
+
+For a moment both men looked off across the snow-mantled valleys and
+the wooded slopes, to the summit of the hill-range far to the east,
+touched with the soft light of the sinking sun.
+
+"You're quite a stranger in these parts," said Henry Cobb, breaking
+the silence.
+
+"Yes," was the reply. "I don't often get up here. I came up to-day to
+make an arrangement with your neighbor, Mr. Walker, for the purchase
+of a very fine spruce tree on his property."
+
+"So? Did you succeed in closing a bargain with him?"
+
+"Yes. He has consented to let it go."
+
+"You don't say so! I would hardly have believed it. Now, I don't want
+to be curious nor anything; but would you mind telling me what you had
+to pay for it?"
+
+"Nothing. He gave it to us."
+
+"He--what?"
+
+"He gave it to us to be used as a flag-staff on the grounds of the
+public school at Chestnut Hill."
+
+"You don't mean that he gave you that wonderful spruce that stands
+down in the corner of his swamp; the one Morrissey and Campbell were
+up looking at yesterday?"
+
+"I believe that is the one."
+
+"Why, colonel, that spruce was the apple of his eye. If I've heard him
+brag that tree up once, I've heard him brag it up fifty times. He
+never gave away anything in his life before. What's come over the old
+man, anyway?"
+
+"Well, when he learned that I had donated the flag, he declared that
+he would donate the staff. I suppose he didn't want to be outdone in
+the matter of patriotism."
+
+"Good for him!" exclaimed Henry Cobb. "He'll be a credit to his
+country yet;" and he laughed merrily. Then, sobering down, he added:
+"But, say; look here! can't you let me in on this thing too? I don't
+want to be outdone by either of you. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll
+cut the tree, and trim it, and haul it to town to-morrow, free gratis
+for nothing. What do you say?"
+
+Then the colonel laughed in his turn, and he reached out his one hand
+and shook hands warmly with Henry Cobb.
+
+"Splendid!" he cried. "This efflorescence of patriotism in the rural
+districts is enough to delight an old soldier's heart!"
+
+"All right! I'll have the pole there by four o'clock to-morrow
+afternoon, and you can depend on it."
+
+"I will. And I thank you, sir; not only on my own account, but also in
+the name of the public of Chestnut Hill, and on behalf of our beloved
+country. Now I must go. I have decided, in returning, to drive across
+by Darbytown, strike the creek road, and go down home by that route
+in order to avoid drifts and bare places. Oh, by the way, there's a
+little matter I neglected to speak to Mr. Walker about. It's of no
+great moment, but I understand his grandson came up here this
+afternoon, and, if he is still here, I will take the opportunity to
+send back word by him."
+
+He made the inquiry with as great an air of indifference as he could
+assume, but his breath came quick as he waited for an answer.
+
+"Why," replied Henry Cobb, "Pen was here along about three o'clock. He
+was looking for a two-year old heifer that strayed away yesterday. He
+went over toward Darbytown. You might run across him if you're going
+that way. But I'll send your message down to Enos Walker if you wish."
+
+"Thank you! It doesn't matter. I may possibly see the young man along
+the road. Good night!"
+
+"Good night, colonel!"
+
+The impatient horses were given rein once more, and dashed away to the
+music of the two score bells that hung from their shining harness.
+
+But, although Colonel Richard Butler scanned every inch of the way
+from Henry Cobb's to Darbytown, with anxious and longing eyes, he did
+not once catch sight of any farmer's boy searching for a two-year old
+heifer that had strayed from its home.
+
+At dusk he stepped wearily from his sleigh and mounted the steps that
+led to the porch of Bannerhall. His daughter met him at the door.
+
+"For goodness' sake, father!" she exclaimed; "where on earth have you
+been?"
+
+"I have been to Cobb's Corners," was the quiet reply.
+
+"Did you get Pen?" she asked, excitedly.
+
+"I did not."
+
+"Wouldn't Mr. Walker let him come?"
+
+"I made no request of any one for my grandson's return. I went to
+obtain a spruce tree from Mr. Walker, out of which to make a
+flag-staff for the school grounds. I obtained it."
+
+"That's a wonder."
+
+"It is not a wonder, Millicent. Permit me to say, as one speaking from
+experience, that when accused of selfishness, Enos Walker has been
+grossly maligned. I have found him to be a public-spirited citizen,
+and a much better man, in all respects, than he has been painted."
+
+His daughter made no further inquiries, for she saw that he was not in
+a mood to be questioned. But, from that day forth, the shadow of
+sorrow and of longing grew deeper on his care-furrowed face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+It was well along in April, that year, before the last of the winter's
+snow disappeared, and the robins and blue-birds darted in and out
+among the naked trees. But, as the sun grew high, and the days long,
+and the spring languor filled the air, Pen felt an ever-increasing
+dissatisfaction with his position in his grandfather Walker's
+household, and an ever-increasing desire to relinquish it. Not that he
+was afraid or ashamed to work; he had sufficiently demonstrated that
+he was not. Not that he ever expected to return to Bannerhall, for he
+had no such thought. To beg to be taken back was unthinkable; that he
+should be invited back was most improbable. He had not seen his
+grandfather Butler since he came away, nor had he heard from him,
+except for the vivid and oft-repeated recital by Grandpa Walker of the
+spruce tree episode, and save through his Aunt Millicent who made
+occasional visits to the family at Cobb's Corners. That he deplored
+Pen's departure there could be no doubt, but that he would either
+invite or compel him to return was beyond belief. So Pen's tasks had
+come to be very irksome to him, and his mode of life very
+dissatisfying. If he worked he wanted to work for himself, at a task
+in which he could take interest and pride. At Cobb's Corners he could
+see no future for himself worthy of the name. Many times he discussed
+the situation with his mother, and, painful as it would be to her to
+lose him, she agreed with him that he must go. He waited only the
+opportunity.
+
+One day, late in April, Robert Starbird dropped in while the members
+of the Walker family were at dinner. He was a wool-buyer for the
+Starbird Woolen Company of Lowbridge, and a nephew of its president.
+Having completed a bargain with Grandpa Walker for his scanty spring
+clipping of fleece, he turned to Pen.
+
+"Haven't I seen you at Colonel Butler's, down at Chestnut Hill?" he
+inquired.
+
+"Yes," replied Pen, "I'm his grandson. I used to live there."
+
+"I thought so. Staying here now, are you?"
+
+"Until I can get regular work; yes, sir."
+
+"Want a job, do you?"
+
+"I'd like one, very much."
+
+"Well, we'll need a bobbin-boy at the mills pretty soon. I suppose--"
+
+And then Grandpa Walker interrupted.
+
+"I guess," he said, "'t we can keep the young man busy here for a
+while yet."
+
+Robert Starbird looked curiously for a moment, from man to boy, and
+then, saying that he must go on up to Henry Cobb's to make a deal with
+him for his fleece, he went out to his buggy, got in and drove away.
+
+Pen went back to his work in the field with a sinking heart. It had
+not before occurred to him that Grandpa Walker would object to his
+leaving him whenever he should find satisfactory and profitable
+employment elsewhere. But it was now evident that, if he went, he must
+go against his grandfather's will. His first opportunity had already
+been blocked. What opposition he would meet with in the future he
+could only conjecture.
+
+With Old Charlie hitched to a stone-boat, he was drawing stones from
+a neighbor's field to the roadside, where men were engaged in laying
+up a stone wall. He had not been long at work since the dinner hour,
+when, chancing to look up, he saw Robert Starbird driving down the
+hill from Henry Cobb's on his way back to Chestnut Hill. A sudden
+impulse seized him. He threw the reins across Old Charlie's back, left
+him standing willingly in his tracks, and started on a run across the
+lot to head off Robert Starbird at the roadside. The man saw him
+coming and stopped his horse.
+
+Panting a little, both from exertion and excitement, Pen leaped the
+fence and came up to the side of the buggy.
+
+"Mr. Starbird," he said, "if that job is still open, I--I think I'll
+take it--if you'll give it to me."
+
+The man, looking at him closely, saw determination stamped on his
+countenance.
+
+"Why, that's all right," he said. "You could have the job; but what
+about your grandfather Walker? He doesn't seem to want you to leave."
+
+"I know. But my mother's willing. And I'll make it up to Grandpa
+Walker some way. I can't stay here, Mr. Starbird; and--I'm not going
+to. They're good enough to me here. I've no complaint to make. But--I
+want a real job and a fair chance."
+
+He paused, out of breath. The intensity of his desire, and the
+fixedness of his purpose were so sharply manifest that the man in the
+wagon did not, for the moment, reply. He placed his whip slowly in its
+socket, and seemed lost in thought. At last he said:
+
+"Henry Cobb has been telling me about you. He gives you a very good
+name."
+
+He paused a moment and then added:
+
+"I'll tell you what I'll do. If you'll give the old gentleman fair
+notice--and not sneak away from him like a vagabond--I won't harbor
+any runaways--why, I'll see that you get the job."
+
+Pen drew a long breath, and his face lighted up with pleasure.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Starbird!" he exclaimed. "Thank you very much. When
+may I come?"
+
+"Well, let's see. To-day's Wednesday. Suppose you report for duty next
+Monday."
+
+"All right! I'll be there. I'll leave here Monday morning. I'll speak
+to Grandpa Walker to-night."
+
+"Very well. See you Monday. Good-by!"
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+Robert Starbird chirruped to his horse, started on, and was soon lost
+to sight around a bend in the road.
+
+And Pen strode back across the field, prouder and happier than he had
+ever been before in all his life.
+
+But he still had Grandpa Walker to settle with.
+
+At supper time, on the evening after his talk with Robert Starbird,
+Pen had no opportunity to inform his grandfather of the success of his
+application for employment. For, almost as soon as he left the table,
+Grandpa Walker got his hat and started down to the store to discuss
+politics and statecraft with his loquacious neighbors. But Pen felt
+that his grandfather should know, that night, of the arrangement he
+had made for employment, and so, after his evening chores were done,
+he went down to the gate at the roadside to wait for the old man to
+come home.
+
+The air was as balmy as though it had been an evening in June.
+Somewhere in the trees by the fence a pair of wakeful birds was
+chirping. From the swamp below the hill came the hoarse croaking of
+bull-frogs. Above the summit of the wooded slope that lay toward
+Chestnut Hill the full moon was climbing, and, aslant the road, the
+maples cast long shadows toward the west.
+
+To Pen, as he stood there waiting, came his mother. A wrap was around
+her shoulders, and a light scarf partly covered her head. She had
+finished her evening work and had come out to find him.
+
+"Are you waiting for grandpa?" she asked; though she knew without
+asking, that he was.
+
+"Yes," was the reply. "I want to see him about leaving. I had a talk
+with Mr. Starbird this afternoon, in the road, and he's given me the
+job he spoke about. I wasn't going to tell you until after I'd seen
+grandpa, and the trouble was all over."
+
+"You dear boy! And if grandpa objects to your going?"
+
+"Well, I--I think I'll go anyway. Look here, mother," he continued,
+hastily; "I don't want to be mean nor anything like that; and
+grandpa's been kind to me; but, mother--I can't stay here. Don't you
+see I can't stay here?"
+
+He held his arms out to her appealingly, and she took them and put
+them about her neck.
+
+"I know, dear," she said; "I know. And grandfather must let you go. I
+shall die of loneliness, but--you must have a chance."
+
+"Thank you, mother! And as soon as I can earn enough you shall come to
+live with me."
+
+"I shall come anyway before very long, dearie. I worked for other
+people before I was married. I can do it again."
+
+She laughed a little, but on her cheeks tears glistened in the
+moonlight.
+
+Then, suddenly, they were aware that Grandpa Walker was approaching
+them. He was coming up the road, talking to himself as was his custom
+when alone, especially if his mind was ill at ease. And his mind was
+not wholly at ease to-night. The readiness with which Pen had, that
+day, accepted a suggestion of employment elsewhere, had given him
+something of a turn. He could not contemplate, with serenity, the
+prospect of resuming the burdens of which his grandson had, for the
+last two months, relieved him. To become again a "hewer of wood and
+drawer of water" for his family was a prospect not wholly to his
+liking. He became suddenly aware that two people were standing at his
+gate in the moonlight. He stopped in the middle of the road, to look
+at them inquiringly.
+
+"It's I, father!" his daughter called out to him. "Pen and I. We've
+been waiting for you."
+
+"Eh? Waitin' for me?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, Pen has something he wants to say to you."
+
+The old man crossed over to the roadside fence and leaned on it. The
+announcement was ominous. He looked sharply at Pen.
+
+"Well," he said. "I'm listenin'."
+
+"Grandpa," began Pen, "I want you to be willing that I should take
+that job that Mr. Starbird spoke about to-day."
+
+"So, that's it, is it? Ye've got the rovin' bee a buzzin' in your
+head, have ye? Don't ye know 't 'a rollin' stone gethers no moss'?"
+
+"Well, grandpa, I'm not contented here. Not but what you're good
+enough to me, and all that, but I'm unhappy here. And I saw Mr.
+Starbird again this afternoon, and he said I could have that job."
+
+"Think a job in a mill's better'n a job on a farm?"
+
+"I think it is for me, grandpa."
+
+"Work too hard for ye here?"
+
+"Why, I'm not complaining about the work being hard. It's just because
+farm work does not suit me."
+
+"Don't suit most folks 'at ain't inclined to dig into it."
+
+Then Pen's mother spoke up.
+
+"Now, father," she said, "you know Pen's done a man's work since he's
+been here, and he's never whimpered about it. And it isn't quite fair
+for you to insinuate that he's been lazy."
+
+"I ain't insinuatin' nothin'," replied the old man, doggedly. "I ain't
+findin' no fault with what he's done sence he's been here; I'm just
+gittin' at what he thinks he's goin' to do." He turned again to Pen.
+"Made up yer mind to go, hev ye?"
+
+"Yes, grandpa."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Next Monday morning."
+
+"Wuther I'm willin' or no?"
+
+"I want you to be willing."
+
+"I say, wuther I'm willin' or no?"
+
+In the moonlight the old man's face bore a look of severity that
+augured ill for any happy completion to Pen's plan. A direct question
+had been asked, and it called for a direct answer. And with the answer
+would come the clash of wills. Pen felt it coming, and, although he
+was apprehensive to the verge of alarm, he braced himself to meet it
+calmly. His answer was frank, and direct.
+
+"Yes, grandpa."
+
+"Well, I'm willin'."
+
+"Why, grandpa!"
+
+"Father! you old dear!" from Pen's mother.
+
+"I say I'm willin'," repeated the old man. "I hed hoped 't Pen'd stay
+here to hum an' help me out with the farm work. I ain't so soople as I
+use to be. An' Mirandy's man's got a stiddy job a-teamin'. An' the boy
+seemed to take to the work natural, and I thought he liked it, and I
+rested easy and took my comfort till Robert Starbird put that notion
+in his head to-day. Sence then I ain't had no hope."
+
+"I'm sorry to leave you, grandpa, and it's awfully good of you to let
+me go, and you know I wouldn't go if I thought I could possibly stay
+and be contented."
+
+"I understand. It's the same with most young fellers. They see suthin'
+better away from hum. And I ain't willin' to stand in the way o' no
+young feller that thinks he can better himself some'eres else. When I
+was fifteen I wanted to go down to Chestnut Hill and work in Sampson's
+planin' factory; but my father wouldn't let me. Consekence is I never
+got spunk enough agin to leave the farm. So I ain't goin' to stand in
+nobody else's way, you can go Monday mornin' or any other mornin', and
+I'll just say God bless ye, an' good luck to ye, an' start in agin on
+the chores."
+
+Then Pen's mother, like a girl still in her sympathies and impulses,
+flung her arms around her father's neck, and hugged him till he was
+positively obliged to use force to release himself. And they all
+walked up the path together in the moonlight, and entered the house
+and told Grandma Walker and Aunt Miranda of Pen's contemplated
+departure, to which Grandpa Walker, with martyrlike countenance, added
+the story of his own unhappy prospect.
+
+When Monday morning came Pen was up long before his usual hour for
+rising. He did all the chores, picked up a dozen odds and ends, and
+left everything ship-shape for his grandfather who was now to succeed
+him in doing the morning work. Then he changed his clothes, packed his
+suit-case and came down to breakfast. Grandpa Walker had offered to
+take him into town with Old Charlie, but Pen had learned, the night
+before, that Henry Cobb was going down to Chestnut Hill in the
+morning, and when Mr. Cobb heard that Pen also was going, he gave him
+an invitation to ride with him. He and the boy had become fast
+friends during Pen's sojourn at Cobb's Corners, and both of them
+anticipated, with pleasure, the ride into town.
+
+After breakfast Grandpa Walker lighted his pipe and put on his hat but
+he did not go to the store, as had been his custom; he stayed to say
+good-by to Pen, and to bid him Godspeed, as he had said he would, and
+to tell him that when he lacked for work, or wanted a home, there was
+a latch-string at Cobb's Corners that was always hanging out for him.
+He did more than that. He shoved into Pen's hands enough money to pay
+for a few weeks' board at Lowbridge, and told him that if he needed
+more, to write and ask for it.
+
+"It's comin' to ye," he said, when Pen protested. "Ye ain't had
+nothin' sence ye been here, and I kind o' calculate ye've earned it."
+
+Pen's mother went with him to the gate to wait for Henry Cobb to come
+along; and when they saw Mr. Cobb driving down the hill toward them,
+she kissed Pen good-by, adjured him to be watchful of his health, and
+to write frequently to her, and then went back up the path toward the
+house she could not see for the tears that filled her eyes.
+
+Henry Cobb drove a smart horse, and a buggy that was spick and span,
+and it was a pleasure to ride with him. He pulled up at the gate with
+a flourish, and told Pen to put his suit-case under the seat, and to
+jump in.
+
+It was not until after they had left the Corners some distance behind
+them that the object of Pen's journey was mentioned. Then Henry Cobb
+asked:
+
+"How does the old gentleman like your leaving?"
+
+"I don't think he likes it very well," was the reply. "But he's been
+lovely about it. He gave me some money and his blessing."
+
+"You don't say so!"
+
+Henry Cobb stared at the boy in astonishment. It was not an unheard of
+thing for Grandpa Walker to give his blessing; but that he should give
+money besides, was, to say the least, unusual.
+
+"Yes," replied Pen, "he couldn't have treated me better if I'd lived
+with him always."
+
+Mr. Cobb cast a contemplative eye on the landscape, and, for a full
+minute, he was silent. Then he turned again to Pen.
+
+"I don't want to be curious or anything," he said; "but would you mind
+telling me how much money the old gentleman gave you?"
+
+"Not at all," was the prompt reply. "He gave me eighteen dollars."
+
+"Good for him!" exclaimed the man. "He's got more good stuff in him
+than I gave him credit for. I was afraid he might have given you only
+a dollar or two, and I was going to lend you a little to help you out.
+I will yet if you need it. I will any time you need it."
+
+Henry Cobb was not prodigal with his money, but he was kind-hearted,
+and he had seen enough of Pen to feel that he was taking no risk.
+
+"You're very kind," replied the boy, "but grandpa's money will last me
+a good while, and I shall get wages enough to keep me comfortably, and
+I shall not need any more."
+
+After a while Mr. Cobb's thoughts turned again to Grandpa Walker.
+
+"He'll miss you terribly," he said to Pen. "He hasn't had so easy a
+time in all his life before as he's had this spring, with you to do
+all the farm chores and help around the house. It'll be like pulling
+teeth for him to get into harness again."
+
+Henry Cobb gave a little chuckle. He knew how fond Grandpa Walker was
+of comfortable ease.
+
+"Well," replied Pen, "I'm sorry to go, and leave him with all the work
+to do; but you know how it is, Mr. Cobb."
+
+"Yes, I know; I know. And you're going with splendid people. I've
+known the Starbirds all my life. None better in the country."
+
+They had reached the summit of the elevation overlooking the valley
+that holds Chestnut Hill. Spring lay all about them in a riot of fresh
+green. The world, to boyish eyes, had never before looked so fair, nor
+had the present ever before been filled with brighter promises for the
+future. But the morning ride, delightful as it had been, was drawing
+to an end.
+
+Coming from Cobb's Corners into Chestnut Hill you go down the Main
+street past Bannerhall. Pen looked as he went by, but he saw no one
+there. The lawn was rich with a carpet of fresh, young grass, the
+crocus beds and the tulip plot were ablaze with color, and the
+swelling buds that crowned the maples with a haze and halo of elusive
+pink foretold the luxury of summer foliage. But no human being was in
+sight. The street looked strange to Pen as they drove along; as
+strange as though he had been away two years instead of two months.
+They stopped in front of the post-office, and he remained in the wagon
+and minded the horse while Henry Cobb went into a hardware store near
+by. People passed back and forth, and some of them looked at him and
+said "good-morning," in a distant way, as though it were an effort for
+them to speak to him. He knew the cause of their indifference and he
+did not resent it, though it cut him deeply. Last winter it would have
+been different. But last winter he was the grandson of Colonel Richard
+Butler, and lived with that old patriot amid the memories and luxuries
+of Bannerhall. To-day he was the grandson of Enos Walker, of Cobb's
+Corners, leaving the farm to seek a petty job in a mill, discredited
+in the eyes of the community because of his disloyalty to his
+country's flag. He was musing on these things when some one called to
+him from the sidewalk. It was Aunt Millicent.
+
+"Pen Butler!" she cried, "get right down here and kiss me."
+
+Pen did her bidding.
+
+"What in the world are you doing here?" she continued.
+
+"I'm on my way to Lowbridge," he said. "I have a job up there in the
+Starbird woolen mills, as bobbin-boy."
+
+"Well, for goodness sake! Who would have thought it? Pen Butler going
+to work as a bobbin-boy! And Lowbridge is fourteen miles away, and we
+shall never see you again."
+
+Pen comforted her as best he could, and explained his reasons for
+going, and then he asked after the health of his grandfather Butler.
+
+"Don't ask me," she said disconsolately. "He's grieving himself into
+his grave about you. But he doesn't say a word, and he won't let me
+say a word. Oh, dear!"
+
+Then Henry Cobb came out and greeted Aunt Millicent, and, after a few
+more inquiries and admonitions, she kissed Pen good-by and went on her
+way.
+
+Mr. Cobb was going on down to Chestnut Valley, but, as the train to
+Lowbridge did not leave until afternoon, Pen said he would go down
+later. So he was left on the sidewalk there alone. He did not quite
+know what to do with himself. The boys were, doubtless, all in school.
+He walked up the street a little way, and then he walked back again.
+He had no reason for entering any of the stores, and no desire to do
+so. There was really no place for him to go. Finally he decided that
+he would go down to the Valley and wait there for the train. So he
+started on down the hill. People whom he met, acquaintances of the old
+days, looked at him askance, spoke to him indifferently, or ignored
+him altogether. It seemed to him that he was like a stranger in an
+alien land.
+
+As he passed by the school-house a boy whom he did not know was
+lingering about the steps. Otherwise there was no one in sight.
+
+Then, suddenly, there burst upon his view a sight for which he was
+not prepared. In the yard on the lower side of the school-house, the
+yard through which he and his victorious troops had driven the
+retreating enemy at the battle of Chestnut Hill, a flag-staff was
+standing; tall, straight, symmetrical, and from its summit floated the
+Star-Spangled Banner; the very banner that he had trodden under his
+feet that February day. It was as though some one had struck him on
+the breast with an ice-cold hand. He gasped and stood still, his eyes
+fixed immovably on the flag. Then something stirred within him, a
+strange impulse that ran the quick gamut of his nerves; and when he
+came to himself he was standing in the street, with head bared and
+bowed, and his eyes filled with tears. Like Saul of Tarsus he had been
+stricken in the way, and ever afterward, whenever and wherever he saw
+his country's flag, his soul responded to the sight, and thrilled with
+memories of that April day when first he discovered that rare quality
+of patriotism that had hitherto lain dormant in his breast.
+
+So he walked on down to the railroad station in Chestnut Valley, and
+went into the waiting-room and sat down.
+
+It was very lonely there and it was very tiresome waiting for the
+train.
+
+At noon he went out to a bakery and bought for himself a light
+luncheon. As he was returning to the depot he came suddenly upon Aleck
+Sands, who had had his dinner and was starting back to school. There
+was no time for either boy to consider what kind of greeting he should
+give to the other. They were face to face before either of them
+realized it. As for Pen, he bore no resentment now, toward any one.
+His heart had been wrung dry from that feeling through two months of
+labor and of contemplation. So, when the first shock of surprise was
+over, he held out his hand.
+
+"Let's be friends, Aleck," he said, "and forget what's gone by."
+
+"I'm not willing," was the reply, "to be friends with any one who's
+done what you've done." And he made a wide detour around the
+astonished boy, and marched off up the hill.
+
+From that moment until the train came and he boarded it, Pen could
+never afterward remember what happened. His mind was in a tumult.
+Would the cruel echo of one minute of inconsiderate folly on a
+February day, keep sounding in his ears and hammering at his heart so
+long as he should live?
+
+It was mid-afternoon when Pen reached Lowbridge, and he went at once
+to the Starbird mill on the outskirts of the town. He caught sight of
+Robert Starbird in the mill-yard, and went over to him. The man did
+not at first recognize him.
+
+"I'm Penfield Butler," said the boy, "with whom you were talking last
+week."
+
+"Oh, yes. Now I know you. You look a little different, some way. I've
+been watching out for you. How did you make out with your Grandpa
+Walker?"
+
+"Well, Grandpa Walker found it a little hard to take up the work I'd
+been doing, but he was quite willing I should come, and helped me very
+much."
+
+"I see." An amused twinkle came into the man's eyes; just such a
+twinkle as had come into the eyes of Henry Cobb that morning on the
+way to Chestnut Hill.
+
+"Well," he added, "I guess it's all right. Come over to the office.
+We'll see what we can do for you."
+
+They crossed the mill-yard and entered the office. An elderly,
+benevolent looking man with white side-whiskers, wearing a Grand Army
+button on the lapel of his coat, was seated at a table, writing. Three
+or four clerks were busy at their desks, and a girl was working at a
+type-writer in a remote corner of the room.
+
+"Major Starbird," said the man who had brought Pen in, "this is the
+boy whom I told you last week I had hired as a bobbin-boy. He's a
+grandson of Enos Walker out at Cobb's Corners."
+
+The man with white side-whiskers laid down his pen, removed his
+glasses, and looked up scrutinizingly at Pen.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know Mr. Walker."
+
+"He is also," added Robert Starbird, "a grandson of Colonel Richard
+Butler at Chestnut Hill."
+
+"Indeed! Colonel Butler is a warm friend of mine. I was not aware
+that--is your name Penfield Butler?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Pen. Something in the man's changed tone of voice
+sent a sudden fear to his heart.
+
+"Are you the boy who is said to have mistreated the American flag on
+the school grounds at Chestnut Hill?"
+
+"I--suppose I am. Yes, sir."
+
+Pen's heart was now in his shoes. The man with white side-whiskers
+raked him from head to foot with a look that boded no good. He turned
+to his nephew.
+
+"I've heard of that incident," he said. "I do not think we want this
+young man in our employ."
+
+Robert Starbird looked first at his uncle and then at Pen. It was
+plain that he was puzzled. It was equally plain that he was
+disappointed.
+
+"I didn't know about this," he said. "I'm sorry if it's anything that
+necessitates our depriving him of the job. Penfield, suppose you
+retire to the waiting-room for a few minutes. I'll talk this matter
+over with Major Starbird."
+
+So Pen, with the ghosts of his misdeeds haunting and harassing him,
+and a burden of disappointment, too heavy for any boy to bear,
+weighing him down, retired to the waiting-room. For the first time
+since his act of disloyalty he felt that his punishment was greater
+than he deserved. Not that he bore resentment now against any person,
+but he believed the retribution that was following him was unjustly
+proportioned to the gravity of his offense. And if Major Starbird
+refused to receive him, what could he do then?
+
+In the midst of these cruel forebodings he heard his name called, and
+he went back into the office.
+
+Major Starbird's look was still keen, and his voice was still
+forbidding.
+
+"I do not want," he said, "to be too hasty in my judgments. My nephew
+tells me that Henry Cobb has given you an excellent recommendation,
+and we place great reliance on Mr. Cobb's opinion. It may be that your
+offense has been exaggerated, or that you have some explanation which
+will mitigate it. If you have any excuse to offer I shall be glad to
+hear it."
+
+"I don't think," replied Pen frankly, "that there was any excuse for
+doing what I did. Only--it seems to me--I've suffered enough for it.
+And I never--never had anything against the flag."
+
+He was so earnest, and his voice was so tremulous with emotion, that
+the heart of the old soldier could not help but be stirred with pity.
+
+"I have fought for my country," he said, "and I reverence her flag.
+And I cannot have, in my employ, any one who is disloyal to it."
+
+"I am not disloyal to it, sir. I--I love it."
+
+"Would you be willing to die for it, as I have been?"
+
+"I would welcome the chance, sir."
+
+Major Starbird turned to his nephew.
+
+"I think we may trust him," he said. "He has good blood in his veins,
+and he ought to develop into a loyal citizen."
+
+Pen said: "Thank you!" But he said it with a gulp in his throat. The
+reaction had quite unnerved him.
+
+"I am sure," replied Robert Starbird, "that we shall make no mistake.
+Penfield, suppose you come with me. I will introduce you to the
+foreman of the weaving-room. He may be able to take you on at once."
+
+So Pen, with tears of gratitude in his eyes, followed his guide and
+friend. They went through the store-room between great piles of
+blankets, through the wool-room filled with big bales of fleece, and
+up-stairs into the weaving-room amid the click and clatter and roar of
+three score busy and intricate looms. Pen was introduced to the
+foreman, and his duties as bobbin-boy were explained to him.
+
+"It's easy enough," said the foreman, "if you only pay attention to
+your work. You simply have to take the bobbins in these little
+running-boxes to the looms as the weavers call for them and give you
+their numbers. Perhaps you had better stay here this afternoon and let
+Dan Larew show you how. I'll give him a loom to-morrow morning, and
+you can take his place."
+
+So Pen stayed. And when the mills were shut down for the day, when the
+big wheels stopped, and the cylinders were still, and the clatter of
+a thousand working metal fingers ceased, and the voices of the mill
+girls were no longer drowned by the rattle and roar of moving
+machinery, he went with Dan to his home, a half mile away, where he
+found a good boarding-place.
+
+At seven o'clock the next morning he was at the mill, and, at the end
+of his first day's real work for real wages, he went to his new home,
+tired indeed, but happier than he had ever been before in all his
+life.
+
+So the days went by; and spring blossomed into summer, and summer
+melted into autumn, and winter came again and dropped her covering of
+snow upon the landscape, whiter and softer than any fleece that was
+ever scoured or picked or carded at the Starbird mills. And then Pen
+had a great joy. His mother came to Lowbridge to live with him. Death
+had kindly released Grandma Walker from her long suffering, and there
+was no longer any need for his mother to stay on the little farm at
+Cobb's Corners. She was an expert seamstress and she found more work
+in the town than she could do. And the very day on which she
+came--Major Starbird knew that she was coming--Pen was promoted to a
+loom. One thing only remained to cloud his happiness. He was still
+estranged from the dear, tenderhearted, but stubborn old patriot at
+Chestnut Hill.
+
+With only his daughter to comfort him, the old man lived his lonely
+life, grieving silently, ever more and more, at the fate which
+separated him from this brave scion of his race, aging as only the
+sorrowing can age, yet, with a stubborn pride, and an unyielding
+purpose, refusing to make the first advance toward a reconciliation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Pen made good use of his leisure time at Lowbridge. There was no night
+school there, but the courses of a correspondence school were
+available, and through that medium he learned much, not only of that
+which pertained to his calling as a textile worker, but of that also
+which pertained to general science and broad culture. History had a
+special fascination for him; the theory of government, the struggles
+of the peoples of the old world toward light and liberty. The working
+out of the idea of democracy in a country like England which still
+retained its monarchical form and much of its aristocratic flavor, was
+a theme on which he dwelt with particular pleasure. Back somewhere in
+the line of descent his paternal ancestors had been of English blood,
+and he was proud of the heroism, the spirit and the energy which had
+made Great Britain one of the mighty nations of the earth.
+
+To France also, fighting and forging her way, often through great
+tribulation, into the family of democracies, he gave almost unstinted
+praise. Always splendid and chivalric, whether as monarchy, empire or
+republic, he felt that if he were to-day a soldier he would, next to
+his own beautiful Star Spangled Banner, rather fight and die under the
+tri-color of France than under the flag of any other nation.
+
+But of course it was to the study and contemplation of his own beloved
+country that he gave most of the time he had for reading and research.
+He delved deeply into her history, he examined her constitution and
+her laws, he put himself in touch with the spirit of her organized
+institutions, and with the fundamental ideas, carefully worked out,
+that had made her free and prosperous and great. And by and by he came
+to realize, in a way that he had never done before, what it meant to
+all her citizens, and especially what it meant to him, Penfield
+Butler, to have a country such as this. He thought of her in those
+days not only as a thing of vast territorial limit and of splendid
+resources of power and wealth and intellect, not only as a mighty
+machine for humane and just government, but he thought of her also as
+a beloved and beautiful personality, claiming and deserving affection
+and fealty from all her children. And he never saw the flag, he never
+thought of it, he never dreamed of it, that it did not arouse in him
+the same tender and reverent feeling, the same lofty inspiration he
+had felt that day when he first saw it floating from its staff against
+a back-ground of clear blue sky on the school-house lawn at Chestnut
+Hill.
+
+He held himself closely to his tasks. Only twice since he came away
+had he gone back with his mother for a holiday visit at Cobb's
+Corners. Grandpa Walker had a hearty handshake for him, and an
+affectionate greeting. The boy was forging ahead in his calling, was
+developing into a fine specimen of physical young manhood, and the old
+man was proud of him. But he did not hesitate to remind him that if a
+day of adversity should come the latch-string of the old house was
+still out, and he would always be as welcome there as he was on that
+winter day when he had come to them as an exile from Bannerhall.
+
+One Memorial Day, as Pen stood at the entrance to the cemetery bridge
+watching the procession of those going in to do honor to the patriotic
+dead, he was especially impressed with the fine appearance of the
+local company of the National Guard which was acting as an escort to
+the veterans of the Grand Army post. The young men composing the
+company were dressed in khaki, handled their rifles with ease and
+accuracy, and marched with a soldierly bearing and precision that were
+admirable. It occurred to Pen that it might be advisable for him to
+join this body of citizen soldiery provided he had the necessary
+qualifications and could be admitted to membership. It was not so much
+the show and glamour of the military life that appealed to him as it
+was the opportunity that such a membership might afford to be of
+service to his country. Even then Europe was being devastated by a war
+which had no equal in history. The German armies, trained to a point
+of unexampled efficiency, with the aid of their Allies, had
+overwhelmed Belgium and had almost succeeded in entering Paris and in
+laying the whole of France under tribute. Beaten back at a crucial
+moment they had dug themselves into the soil of the invaded country
+and were holding at bay the combined forces of their Allied enemies.
+Half of Europe was in arms. The tragedies of the seas were appalling.
+International complications were grave and unending. More than one
+statesman of prophetic foresight had predicted that a continuance of
+the war must of necessity draw into the maelstrom the government of
+the United States. In such an event the country would need soldiers
+and many of them, and the sooner they could be put into training to
+meet such a possible emergency the better.
+
+Moreover it was not necessary to look across the ocean to foresee the
+necessity for military readiness. Our neighbor to the south was in the
+grip of armed lawlessness and terrorism. Northern Mexico was infested
+with banditti which were a constant menace to the safety of our
+border. Such government as the stricken country had was either unable
+or unwilling to hold them in check. It appeared to be inevitable that
+the United States, by armed intervention, must sooner or later come to
+the protection of its citizens. In that event the little handful of
+troops of the regular army must of necessity be reinforced by units of
+the state militia. It might be that soldiers of the National Guard
+would be used only for patrolling the border, and it might well be
+that they would be sent, as was one of Penfield Butler's ancestors,
+into the heart of Mexico to enforce permanent peace and tranquility at
+the point of the bayonet.
+
+So this was the situation, and this was the appeal to Pen's patriotic
+ardor. And the appeal was a strong one. But he did not at once respond
+to it. His work and his study absorbed his time and thought. It was
+not until late in the fall of that year, the year 1915, when the
+crises, both at home and abroad, seemed rapidly approaching, that Pen
+took up for earnest consideration the question of his enlistment in
+the National Guard. Given by nature to acting impulsively, he
+nevertheless, in these days, weighed carefully any proposed line of
+conduct on his part which might have an important bearing on his
+future. But he resolved, after due consideration, to join the militia
+if he could.
+
+He went to a young fellow, a wool-sorter in the mills, who was a
+corporal in the militia, to obtain the necessary information to make
+his application. The corporal promised to take the matter up for him
+with the captain of the local company, and in due time brought him an
+application blank to be filled out stating his qualifications for
+membership. It was necessary that the paper should be signed by his
+mother as evidence of her consent to his enlistment since he was not
+yet twenty-one years of age. She signed it readily enough, for she
+quite approved of his ambition, and she took a motherly pride in the
+evidences of patriotism that he was constantly manifesting.
+
+Armed with this document he presented himself, on a drill-night, to
+Captain Perry in the officers' quarters at the armory. The captain
+glanced at the paper, then he laid it on the table and looked up at
+Pen. There was a troubled expression on his face.
+
+"I'm sorry, Butler," he said, "but I'm afraid we can't enlist you."
+
+The announcement came as a shock, but not utterly as a surprise. For
+days the boy had felt a kind of foreboding that something of this sort
+would happen. Yet he did not at once give way to his disappointment
+nor accept without question the captain's pronouncement.
+
+"May I inquire," he asked, "what your reason is for rejecting me?"
+
+Captain Perry sat back in his chair and thrust his legs under the
+table. It was apparent that he was embarrassed, but it was apparent
+also that he would remain firm in the matter of his decision. Nor was
+Pen at such a loss to understand the reason for his rejection as his
+question might imply. He knew, instinctively, that the old story of
+his disloyalty to the flag had come up again, after all these years,
+to plague and to thwart him. He was quite right.
+
+"I will tell you frankly, Butler," replied the captain, "what the
+trouble is. Since it became known that you wanted to enlist, some
+members of my company have come to me with a protest against
+accepting you. They say they represent the bulk of sentiment among the
+enlisted men. You see, under these circumstances, I can't very well
+take you. We are citizen soldiers, not under the iron discipline of
+the regular army, and in matters which are really not essential I must
+yield more or less to the wishes of my boys. They like, in a way, to
+choose their associates."
+
+He ended with an apologetic wave of the hand, and a smile intended to
+be conciliatory. Chagrined and wounded, but not abashed nor silenced,
+Pen stood his ground. He resolved to see the thing through, cost what
+pain and humiliation it might.
+
+"Would you mind telling me," he inquired, "what it is they have
+against me?"
+
+"Why, if you want to know, yes. They say you're not patriotic. To be
+more explicit they say that up at Chestnut Hill, where you used to
+live, you--"
+
+Pen interrupted him. His patience was exhausted, his calmness gone.
+"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, "I know. They say I mistreated the flag. They
+say I insulted it, threw it into the mud and trampled on it. That's
+what they say, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, substantially that. Now, I don't know whether it's true or
+not--"
+
+"Oh, it's true enough! I don't deny it. And they say also that on
+account of it all I had to leave Colonel Butler's house and go and
+live with my grandfather Walker at Cobb's Corners. They say that,
+don't they?"
+
+"Something of that kind, I believe."
+
+"Well, that's true too. But they don't say that it all happened half a
+dozen years ago, when I was a mere boy, that I did it in a fit of
+anger at another boy, and had nothing whatever against the flag, and
+that I was sorry for it the next minute and have suffered and repented
+ever since. They don't say that that flag is just as dear to me as it
+is to any man in America, that I love the sight of it; that I'd follow
+it anywhere, and die for it on any battlefield,--they don't say that,
+do they?"
+
+His cheeks were blazing, his eyes were flashing, every muscle of his
+body was tense under the storm of passionate indignation that swept
+over him. Captain Perry, amazed and thrilled by the boy's
+earnestness, straightened up in his chair and looked him squarely in
+the face.
+
+"No," he replied, "they don't say that. But I believe it's true. And
+so far as I'm concerned--"
+
+Pen again interrupted him.
+
+"Oh, I'm not blaming you, Captain Perry; you couldn't do anything else
+but turn me down. But some day, some way--I don't know how
+to-night--but some way I'm going to prove to these people that have
+been hounding me that I'm as good a patriot and can be as good a
+soldier as the best man in your company!"
+
+"Good! That's splendid!" Captain Perry rose to his feet and grasped
+the boy's hand. "And I'll tell you what I'll do, Butler; if you're
+willing to face the ordeal I'll enlist you. I believe in you."
+
+But Pen would not listen to it.
+
+"No," he said, "I can't do that. It wouldn't be fair to you, nor to
+your men, nor to me. I'll meet the thing some other way. I'm grateful
+to you all the same though."
+
+"Very well; just as you choose. But when you need me in your fight
+I'm at your service. Remember that!"
+
+On his way home from the armory it was necessary that Pen should pass
+through the main street of the town. Many of the shops were still open
+and were brilliantly lighted, and people were strolling carelessly
+along the walk, laughing and chatting as though the agony and horror
+and brutality of the mighty conflict just across the sea were all in
+some other planet, billions of miles away; as though the war cloud
+itself were not pushing its ominous black rim farther and farther
+above the horizon of our own beloved land. Now and then Pen met,
+singly or in pairs, khaki clad young men on their way to the armory
+for the weekly drill. Two or three of them nodded to him as they
+passed by, others looked at him askance and hurried on. The resentment
+that had been roused in his breast at Captain Perry's announcement
+flamed up anew; but as he turned into the quieter streets on his
+homeward route this feeling gave way to one of envy, and then to one
+of self-pity and grief. Hard as his lot had been in comparison with
+the luxury he might have had had he remained at Bannerhall, he had
+never repined over it, nor had he been envious of those whose lines
+had been cast in pleasanter places. But to-night, after looking at
+these sturdy young fellows in military garb preparing to serve their
+state and their country in the not improbable event of war, an intense
+and passionate longing filled his breast to be, like them, ready to
+fight, to kill or to be killed in defense of that flag which day by
+day claimed his ever-increasing love and devotion. That he was not
+permitted to do so was heart-rending. That it was by his own fault
+that he was not permitted to do so was agony indeed. And yet it was
+all so bitterly unjust. Had he not paid, a thousand times over, the
+full penalty for his offense, trivial or terrible whichever it might
+have been? Why should the accusing ghost of it come back after all
+these years, to hound and harass him and make his whole life wretched?
+
+It was in no cheerful or contented mood that he entered his home and
+responded to the affectionate greeting of his mother.
+
+"You're home early, dear," she said.
+
+"Didn't they keep you for drill? How does it seem to be a soldier?"
+
+"I didn't enlist, mother."
+
+"Didn't enlist? Why not? I thought that was the big thing you were
+going to do."
+
+"They wouldn't take me."
+
+"Why, Pen! what was the matter? I thought it was all as good as
+settled."
+
+"Well, you know that old trouble about the flag at Chestnut Hill?"
+
+"I know. I've never forgotten it. But every one else has, surely."
+
+"No, mother, they haven't. That's the reason they wouldn't take me."
+
+"But, Pen, that was years and years ago. You were just a baby. You've
+paid dearly enough for that. It's not fair! It's not human!"
+
+She, too, was aroused to the point of indignant but unavailing
+protest; for she too knew how the boy, long years ago, had expiated to
+the limit of repentance and suffering the one sensational if venial
+fault of his boyhood.
+
+"I know, mother. That's all true. I know it's horribly unjust; but
+what can you do? It's a thing you can't explain because it's partly
+true. It will keep cropping up always, and how I am ever going to live
+it down I don't know. Oh, I don't know!"
+
+He flung himself into a chair, thrust his hands deep into his
+trousers' pockets and stared despairingly into some forbidding
+distance. She grew sympathetic then, and consoling, and went to him
+and put her arm around his neck and laid her face against his head and
+tried to comfort him.
+
+"Never mind, dearie! So long as you, yourself, know that you love the
+flag, and so long as I know it, we can afford to wait for other people
+to find it out."
+
+"No, mother, we can't. They've got to be shown. I can't live this way.
+Some way or other I've got to prove that I'm no coward and I'm no
+traitor."
+
+"You're too severe with yourself, Pen. There are other ways, perhaps
+better ways, for men to prove that they love their country besides
+fighting for her. To be a good citizen may be far more patriotic than
+to be a good soldier."
+
+"I know. That's one of the things I've learned, and I believe it. And
+that'll do for most fellows, but it won't do for me. My case is
+different. I mistreated the flag once with my hands and arms and feet
+and my whole body, and I've got to give my hands and arms and feet and
+my whole body now to make up for it. There's no other way. I couldn't
+make the thing right in a thousand years simply by being a good
+citizen. Don't you see, mother? Don't you understand?"
+
+He looked up into her face with tear filled eyes. The thought that had
+long been with him that he must prove his patriotism by personal
+sacrifice, had grown during these last few days into a settled
+conviction and a great desire. He wanted her to see the situation as
+he saw it, and to feel with him the bitterness of his disappointment.
+And she did. She twined her arm more closely about his neck and
+pressed her lips against his hair.
+
+But her heart-felt sympathy made too great a draft on his emotional
+nature. It silenced his voice and flooded his eyes. So she drew her
+chair up beside him, and he laid his head in her lap as he had used
+to do when he was a very little boy, and wept out his disappointment
+and grief.
+
+And as he lay there a new thought came to him. Swiftly as a whirlwind
+forms and sweeps across the land, it took on form and motion and swept
+through the channels of his mind. He sprang to his feet, dashed the
+tears from his face, and looked down on his mother with a countenance
+transformed.
+
+"Mother!" he exclaimed, "I have an idea!"
+
+"Why, Pen; how you startled me! What is it?"
+
+"I have an idea, mother. I'm going to--"
+
+He paused and looked away from her.
+
+"Going to what, Pen?"
+
+He did not reply at once, but after a moment he said:
+
+"I'll tell you later, mother, after it's all worked out and I'm sure
+of it. I'm not going to bring home to you any more disappointments."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+It was three days later that Pen came home one evening, alert of step,
+bright-eyed, his countenance beaming with satisfaction and delight.
+
+"Well, mother," he cried as he entered the house; "it's settled. I'm
+going!"
+
+She looked up in surprise and alarm.
+
+"What's settled, Pen? Where are you going?"
+
+"I'm going to war."
+
+She dropped the work at which she had been busy and sat down weakly in
+a chair by her dining-room table. He went to her and laid an
+affectionate hand on her shoulder.
+
+"Pardon me, mother!" he continued, "I didn't mean to frighten you, but
+I'm so happy over it."
+
+She looked up into his face.
+
+"To war, Pen? What war?"
+
+"The big war, mother. The war in France. Do you remember the other
+night when I told you I had an idea?"
+
+"Yes, I remember."
+
+"Well, that was it. It occurred to me, then, that if I couldn't fight
+for my own country, under my own flag, I would fight for those other
+countries, under their flags. They are making a desperate and a
+splendid war to uphold the rights of civilized nations."
+
+He stood there, erect, manly, resolute, his face lighted with the glow
+of his enthusiasm. She could but admire him, even though her heart
+sank under the weight of his announced purpose. Many times, of an
+evening, they had talked together of the mighty conflict in Europe.
+From the very first Pen's sympathies had been with France and her
+Allies. He could not get over denouncing the swiftness and savagery of
+the raid into Belgium, the wanton destruction of her cities and her
+monuments of art, the hardships and brutalities imposed upon her
+people. The Bryce report, with its details of outrage and crime,
+stirred his nature to its depths. The tragedy of the _Lusitania_
+filled him with indignation and horror. Now, suddenly, had come the
+desire and the opportunity to fight with those peoples who were
+struggling to save their ideals from destruction.
+
+"I'm going to Canada," he continued, "to enlist in the American
+Legion. They say hundreds and thousands of young men from the United
+States who are willing to fight under the Union Jack, have gone up
+into Canada for training and are this very minute facing the gray
+coats of the German enemy in northern France."
+
+"But, Pen," she protested, "this is such a horrible war. The soldiers
+live in the muddiest, foulest kinds of trenches. They kill each other
+with gases and blazing oil. They slaughter each other by thousands
+with guns that go by machinery. It's simply terrible!"
+
+"I know, mother. It's modern warfare. It's up to date. It's no pink
+tea as some one has said. But the more awful it is the sooner it'll be
+over, and the more credit there'll be to us who fight in it."
+
+"And you'll be so far away."
+
+She looked up at him, pale-faced, with appealing eyes. He knew how
+uncontrollably she shrank from the thought of losing him in this wild
+vortex of savagery. He patted her cheek tenderly.
+
+"But you'll be a good patriot," he said, "and let me go. It's my duty
+to fight, and it's your duty to let me fight. There isn't any doubt
+about that. Besides, this isn't really France's war nor England's war
+any more than it is our war, or any more than it is the war of any
+country that wants to maintain the ideals of modern civilization. I
+shall be serving my country almost the same as though I were fighting
+under the Stars and Stripes. And I'll be answering in the only way
+it's possible for me to answer, those people who have been charging me
+with disloyalty to the flag. Oh, I must show you what Grandfather
+Butler says. He made a speech yesterday at the flag-raising at
+Chestnut Valley, and it's all in the Lowbridge _Citizen_ this morning.
+Listen! Here's the way he winds up."
+
+He drew a newspaper from his pocket and read:
+
+"'So, fellow citizens, let me predict that before this great war
+shall come to an end the Stars and Stripes will wave over every
+battlefield in Europe. Sooner or later we must enter the conflict; and
+the sooner the better. For it's our war. It's the war of every country
+that loves liberty and justice. Up to this moment the Allies have been
+fighting for the freedom of the world, your freedom and mine, my
+friends, as well as their own. It is high time the Government at
+Washington, impelled by the patriotic ardor of our thinking citizens,
+declared the enemies of England and France to be our enemies, and
+joined hands with those heroic countries to stamp out forever the
+teutonic menace to liberty and civilization. In the meantime I say to
+the red-blooded youth of America: Glory awaits you on the war-scarred
+fields of France. Go forth! There is no barrier in the way. Remember
+that when the ragged troops of Washington were locked in a death-grip
+with the red-coated soldiers of King George, Lafayette, Rochambeau and
+de Grasse came to our aid with six and twenty thousand of the bravest
+sons of France. It is your turn now to spring to the aid of this
+stricken land and prove that you are worthy descendants of the
+grateful patriots of old.'"
+
+Pen finished his reading and laid down the paper. There had been a
+tremor in his voice at the end, and his eyes were wet.
+
+"That's grandfather," he said, "all over. I knew he'd feel that way
+about it. I had decided to go before I read that speech. Now I
+couldn't stay at home if I tried. I'm his grandson yet, mother, and I
+shall answer his call to arms."
+
+After that he sat down quietly and unfolded to his mother all of his
+plans. He told her that he had gone to Major Starbird and had confided
+to him his desire to serve with the Allied armies. The old soldier,
+veteran of many battles, had sympathized with his ambition and had
+procured for him the necessary information concerning enlistment and
+training in Canada. He was to go to New York and report to a certain
+confidential agent there at an address which had been given him, where
+he would receive the necessary credentials for enlistment in the new
+American Legion then in process of formation. And Major Starbird had
+said to him that when he returned, if at all, his place at the mill
+would still be open to him and he would be welcomed back. He told it
+all with a quiet enthusiasm that evidenced not only his fixed purpose,
+but also the fact that his whole heart was in the adventure, and that
+there would be no turning back.
+
+And his mother gave her consent that he should go. What else was there
+for her to do? Mothers have sent their sons to war from time
+immemorial. It is thus that they suffer and bleed for their country.
+And who shall say that their sacrifice is not as great in its way as
+is the sacrifice of those who offer up their lives in battle? But that
+night, through sleepless hours, when she thought of the loneliness
+that would be hers, and the hazards and horrors that would be his, and
+of how, after all, he was such a mere boy, to be petted and spoiled
+and kept at home rather than to be sent out to meet the trials and
+terrors of the most cruel war in history, her heart failed her, and
+she wept in unspeakable dread. It is the women, in the long run, who
+are the greater sufferers from the armed clash of nations!
+
+    The mother who conceals her grief
+      While to her breast her son she presses,
+    Then breathes a few brave words and brief,
+      Kissing the patriot brow she blesses,
+    With no one but her secret God
+      To know the pain that weighs upon her,
+    Sheds holy blood as e'er the sod
+      Received on Freedom's field of honor!
+
+It was three days later that Pen went away. There were many little
+matters to which he must attend before going. His mother must be
+safeguarded and her comfort looked after during his absence. His own
+private affairs must be left in such shape that in the event of his
+not returning they could easily be closed up. He permitted nothing to
+remain at loose ends. But to no one save to his employer and his
+mother did he confide his plans. He did not care to publish a purpose
+that lay so near to his heart. He went on the early morning train.
+Major Starbird was at the station to wring his hand and bid him
+Godspeed and wish him a safe return. But his mother was not there. She
+was in her room at home, her white face against the window, gazing
+with tear-wet eyes toward the south. She heard the distant rumble of
+the cars as they came, and the blasts from the far away whistle fell
+softly on her ears. And, by and by, the ever lengthening and fading
+line of smoke against the far horizon told her that the train bearing
+her only child to unknown and possibly dreadful destiny was on its
+way.
+
+Pen had been in New York before. On several memorable occasions, as a
+boy, he had accompanied his grandfather Butler to the city and had
+enjoyed the sights and sounds of the great metropolis, and had learned
+something of its ways and byways. He had no difficulty, therefore, in
+finding the address that had been given him by Major Starbird, and,
+having found it, he was made welcome there. He learned, what indeed he
+already knew, that Canada was not averse to filling out her quota of
+loyal troops for the great war by enlisting and training young men of
+good character and robust physique from the States. Armed with
+confidential letters of introduction and commendation, and certain
+other requisite documents, he left the quiet office on the busy street
+feeling that at last the desire of his heart was to be fully
+gratified. It was now late afternoon. He was to take a night train
+from the Grand Central station which would carry him by way of Albany
+to Toronto. Borne along by the crowd of home-going people he found
+himself on Broadway facing Trinity Church. The dusk of evening was
+already falling, and here and there the glow of electric lamps began
+to pierce the gloom. On one occasion he had wandered, with his
+grandfather, through Trinity Churchyard, and had read and been
+thrilled by inscriptions on ancient tomb-stones marking the graves of
+those who had served their country well in her early and struggling
+years. Had it been still day he would not have been able to resist the
+impulse to repeat that experience of his boyhood. As it was, he stood,
+for many minutes, peering through the iron railing that separated the
+living, hurrying throngs on the pavement from the narrow homes of
+those who, more than a century before, had served their generation by
+the will of God and had fallen on sleep.
+
+As he turned his eyes away from the deepening shadows of the graveyard
+it occurred to him that he would go to a hotel formerly frequented by
+Colonel Butler, and get his dinner there before going to the train. It
+would seem like old times, for it was there that they had stayed when
+he had accompanied his grandfather on those trips of his boyhood. To
+be sure the colonel would not be there, but delightful memories would
+be stirred by revisiting the place, and he felt that those memories
+would be most welcome this night.
+
+Ever more and more, in these latter days, his thoughts had turned
+toward his boyhood home. After six years of absence and estrangement
+there was still no tenderer spot in his heart, save the one occupied
+by his mother, than the spot in which reposed his memories of his
+childhood's hero, the master of Bannerhall. He wished that there might
+have been a reconciliation between them before he went to war. He
+would have given much if only he could have seen the stern face with
+its gray moustache and its piercing eyes, if he could have felt the
+warm grasp of the hand, if he could have heard the firm and kindly
+voice speak to him one word of farewell and Godspeed. He sighed as he
+turned in at the subway kiosk and descended the steps to the platform
+to join the pushing and the jostling crowd on its homeward way. At the
+Grand Central Station he procured his railway tickets and checked his
+baggage and then came out into Forty-second street. After a few
+minutes of bewildered turning he located himself and made his way
+without further trouble to his hotel. But the place seemed strange to
+him now; not as spacious as when he was a boy, not as ornate, not as
+wonderful. It was only after he had eaten his dinner and come out
+again into the lobby that it took on any kind of a familiar air, and
+not until he was ready to depart that he could have imagined the erect
+form of Colonel Butler, with its imposing and attractive personality,
+approaching him through the crowd as he had so often seen it in other
+years.
+
+Then, as he turned toward the street door, a strange thing happened. A
+familiar figure emerged from a side corridor and came out into the
+main lobby in full view of the departing boy. It needed no second
+glance to convince Pen that this was indeed his grandfather. The
+stern face, the white, drooping moustache, the still soldierly
+bearing, could belong to no one else. The colonel stopped for a minute
+to make inquiry and obtain information from a hotel attendant, then,
+having apparently learned what he wished to know, he stood looking
+searchingly about him.
+
+Pen stood still in his tracks and wondered what he should do. The
+vision had come upon him so suddenly that it had quite taken away his
+breath. But it did not take long for him to decide. He would do the
+obvious and manly thing and let the consequences take care of
+themselves. He stepped forward and held out his hand.
+
+"How do you do, grandfather," he said.
+
+Colonel Butler turned an unrecognizing glance on the boy.
+
+"You have the advantage of me, sir," he replied. "I--"
+
+He stopped speaking suddenly, his face flushed, and a look of glad
+surprise came into his eyes.
+
+"Why, Penfield!" he exclaimed, "is this you?"
+
+But, before Pen had time to respond, either by word or movement, to
+the greeting, the old man's gloved hand which had been thrust partly
+forward, fell back to his side, the light of recognition left his
+eyes, and he stood, as stern-faced and determined as he had stood on
+that February night, years ago, asking about a boy and a flag.
+
+"Yes, grandfather," said Pen, "it is I."
+
+The colonel did not turn away, nor did any harsh word come to his
+lips. He spoke with cold courtesy, as he might have spoken to any
+casual acquaintance.
+
+"This is a surprise, sir. I had not expected to see you here."
+
+He made a brave effort to control his voice, but it trembled in spite
+of him.
+
+Pen's heart was stirred with sudden pity. He saw as he looked on his
+grandfather's face, that age and sorrow had made sad inroads during
+these few years. The hair and moustache, iron-gray before, were now
+completely white, the countenance was deep-lined and sallow, the eyes
+had lost their piercing brightness. But Pen did not permit his
+surprise, or his sorrow, or his grief at the manner of his reception,
+to show itself by any word or look.
+
+"Nor did I expect to see you," he said. "Have you been long in the
+city?"
+
+"I arrived less than an hour ago. I expect to meet here my friend
+Colonel Marshall with whom I shall discuss the state of the country."
+
+"Did--did you come alone?"
+
+It was the wrong thing to say, and Pen knew it the moment he had said
+it. But the old man's appearance of feebleness had aroused in him the
+sudden thought that he ought not to be traveling alone, and,
+impulsively, he had given expression to the thought. Colonel Butler
+straightened his shoulders and turned upon his grandson a look of fine
+scorn.
+
+"I came alone, sir," he replied. "How else did you expect me to come?"
+
+"Why, I thought possibly Aunt Milly might have come along."
+
+"In troublous times like these the woman's place is at the fire-side.
+The man's duty should lead him wherever his country calls, or wherever
+he can be of service to a people defending themselves against the
+onslaught of armed autocracy."
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+"I am therefore here to take counsel with certain men of judgment
+concerning the participation of this country in the bloody struggle
+that is going on abroad. After that I shall proceed to Washington to
+urge upon the heads of our government my belief that the time is ripe
+to throw the weight of our influence, and the weight of our wealth,
+and the weight of our armies, into the scale with France and Great
+Britain for the subjugation of those central powers that are waging
+upon these gallant countries a most unjust and unrighteous war."
+
+"Yes, grandfather; I agree with you."
+
+"Of course you do, sir. No right-minded man could fail to agree with
+me. And I shall tender my sword and my services, to be at the disposal
+of my country, in whatever branch of the service the Secretary of War
+may see fit to assign me as soon as war is declared. As a matter of
+fact, sir, we are already at war with Germany. Both by land and sea
+she has, for the last year, been making open war upon our commerce,
+on our citizens, on the integrity of our government. It is
+exasperating, sir, exasperating beyond measure, to see the authorities
+at Washington drifting aimlessly and unpreparedly into an armed
+conflict which is bound to come. Our president should demand from
+congress at once a declaration that a state of war exists with
+Germany, and with that declaration should go a system of organized
+preparedness, and then, sir, we should go to Europe and fight, and,
+thus fighting, help our Allies and save our native land. It shall be
+my errand to Washington to urge such an aggressive course."
+
+Of his belief in his theory there could be no doubt. Of his
+earnestness in advocating it there was not the slightest question. His
+profound sympathy with the Allies did credit to his heart as well as
+his judgment. And the devotion of this one-armed and enfeebled veteran
+to the cause of his own country, his eagerness to serve her in the
+field and his confidence in his ability still to do so, were pathetic
+as well as inspiring. It was all so big, and patriotic, and splendid,
+even in its childish egotism and simplicity, that the pure absurdity
+of it found no place in the mind of this affectionate and
+manly-hearted boy.
+
+"I believe you are right, grandfather," he said, "and it's noble of
+you to offer your services that way."
+
+"Thank you, sir!"
+
+The colonel turned as if to move toward the information desk at the
+office, and then turned back.
+
+"Pardon me!" he said, "but I forgot to inquire concerning your own
+errand in the city."
+
+"I am on my way to Canada, grandfather."
+
+A look of surprise came into the old man's eyes, followed at once by
+an expression of infinite scorn. He remembered that, in the days of
+the civil war, slackers and rebel sympathizers who wished to evade the
+draft made their way across the national border into Canada. They had
+received the contempt of their own generation and had drawn a
+figurative bar-sinister across the shield of their descendants. Could
+it be possible that this grandchild of his was about to add disgrace
+to disloyalty? That, in addition to heaping insults on the flag of his
+country as a boy, he was now, as a man, taking time by the forelock
+and escaping to the old harbor of safety to avoid some possible future
+conscription? The absurdity and impracticability of such a proposition
+did not occur to him at the moment, only the humiliation and the
+horror of it.
+
+"To Canada, sir?" he demanded; "the refuge of cowards and copperheads!
+Why to Canada, sir, in the face of this impending crisis in your
+country's affairs?"
+
+His voice rose at the end in angry protest. The look of scorn that
+blazed from under his gray eye-brows was withering in its intensity.
+Pen, who was sufficiently familiar with the history of the civil war
+to know what lay in his grandfather's mind, answered quickly but
+quietly:
+
+"I am going to Canada to enlist."
+
+"To--to what? Enlist?"
+
+"Yes; in the American Legion; to fight under the Union Jack in
+France."
+
+A pillar stood near by, and the colonel backed up against it for
+support. The shock of the surprise, the sudden revulsion of feeling,
+left him nerveless.
+
+"And you--you are going to war?"
+
+He could not quite believe it yet. He wanted confirmation.
+
+"Yes, grandfather; I'm going to war. I couldn't stay out of it. Until
+my own country takes up arms I'll fight under another flag. When she
+does get into it I hope to fight under the Stars and Stripes."
+
+A wonderful look came into the old man's face, a look of pride, of
+satisfaction, of unadulterated joy. His mouth twitched as though he
+desired to speak and could not. Then, suddenly, he thrust out his one
+arm and seized Pen's hand in a mighty and affectionate grip. In that
+moment the sorrow, the bitterness, the estrangement of years vanished,
+never to return.
+
+"I am proud of you, sir!" he said. "You are worthy of your illustrious
+ancestors. You are maintaining the best traditions of Bannerhall."
+
+"I'm glad you're pleased, grandfather."
+
+"Pleased is too mild an expression. I am rejoiced. It is the proudest
+moment of my life." He stepped away from the pillar, straightened his
+shoulders, and gazed benignantly on his grandson. "Not that I
+especially desire," he added after a moment, "that you should be
+subjected to the hazards and the hardships of a soldier's life. That
+goes without saying. But it is the hazards and the hardships he faces
+that make the soldier a hero. Death itself has no terrors for the
+patriotic brave. '_Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori._'"
+
+His eyes wandered away into some alluring distance and his thought
+into the fields of memory, and for a moment he was silent. Nor did Pen
+speak. He felt that the occasion was too momentous, the event too
+sacred to be spoiled by unnecessary words from him.
+
+It was the colonel who at last broke the silence.
+
+"It is not an opportune time," he said, "to speak of the past. But, as
+to the future, you may rest in confidence. While you are absent your
+mother shall be looked after. Her every want shall be supplied. It
+will be my delight to attend to the matter personally."
+
+Swift tears sprang to Pen's eyes. Surely the beautiful, the tender
+side of life was again turning toward him. It was with difficulty that
+he was able sufficiently to control his voice to reply:
+
+"Thank you, grandfather! You are very good to us."
+
+"Do not mention it! How about your own wants? Have you money
+sufficient to carry you to your destination?"
+
+"Thank you! I have all the money I need."
+
+"Very well. I shall communicate with you later, and see that you lack
+nothing for your comfort. Will you kindly send me your address when
+you are permanently located in your training camp?"
+
+"Yes, I will."
+
+Pen glanced at his watch and saw that he had but a few minutes left in
+which to catch his train.
+
+"I'm sorry, grandfather," he said, "but when I met you I was just
+starting for the station to take my train north; and now, if I don't
+hurry, I'll get left."
+
+He held out his hand and the old man grasped it anew.
+
+"Penfield, my boy;" his voice was firm and brave as he spoke.
+"Penfield, my boy, quit yourself like the man that you are! Remember
+whose blood courses in your veins! Remember that you are an American
+citizen and be proud of it. Farewell!"
+
+He parted his white moustache, bent over, pressed a kiss upon his
+grandson's forehead, swung him about to face the door, and watched his
+form as he retreated. When he turned again he found his friend,
+Colonel Marshall, standing at his side.
+
+"I have just bidden farewell," he said proudly, "to my grandson,
+Master Penfield Butler, who is leaving on the next train for Canada
+where he will go into training with the American Legion, and
+eventually fight under the Union Jack, on the war-scarred fields of
+France."
+
+"He is a brave and patriotic boy," replied Colonel Marshall.
+
+"It is in his blood and breeding, sir. No Butler of my line was ever
+yet a coward, or ever failed to respond to a patriotic call."
+
+And as for Pen, midnight found him speeding northward with a heart
+more full and grateful, and a purpose more splendidly fixed, than his
+life had ever before known.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+It was late in the day following his departure from New York that Pen
+reached his destination in Canada. In a certain suburban town not far
+from Toronto he found a great training camp. It was here that selected
+units of the new Dominion armies received their military instruction
+prior to being sent abroad. It was here also that many of the young
+men from the States, desirous of fighting under the Union Jack, came
+to enlist with the Canadian troops and to receive their first lessons
+in the science of warfare. Canada was stirred as she had never been
+stirred before in all her history. Her troops already at the front had
+received their first great baptism of fire at Langemarck. They had
+fought desperately, they had won splendidly, but their losses had been
+appalling. So the young men of Canada, eager to avenge the slaughter
+of their countrymen, were hastening to fill the depleted ranks, and
+the young men from the States were proud to bear them company.
+
+But life in the training camps was no holiday. It was hard, steady,
+strenuous business, carried on under the most rigid form of
+discipline. Yet the men were well clothed, well fed, had comfortable
+quarters, enjoyed regular periods of recreation, and were content with
+their lot, save that their eagerness to complete their training and
+get to the firing line inevitably manifested itself in expressions of
+impatience.
+
+To get up at 5:30 in the morning and drill for an hour before
+breakfast was no great task, nor two successive hours of fighting with
+tipped bayonets, nor throwing of real bombs and hand-grenades, nor was
+the back-breaking digging of trenches, nor the exhaustion from long
+marches, if only by such experiences they could fit themselves
+eventually to fight their enemy not only with courage but also with
+that skill and efficiency which counts for so much in modern warfare.
+
+It was ten days after Pen's enlistment that, being off duty, he
+crossed the parade ground one evening and went into the large reading
+and recreation room of the Young Men's Christian Association,
+established and maintained there for the benefit of the troops in
+training. He had no errand except that he wished to write a letter to
+his mother, and the conveniences offered made it a favorite place for
+letter writing.
+
+There were few people in the room, for it was still early, and the
+writing tables were comparatively unoccupied. But at one of them, with
+his back to the entrance, sat a young man in uniform busy with his
+correspondence. Pen glanced at him casually as he sat down to write;
+his quarter face only was visible. But the glance had left an
+impression on his mind that the face and figure were those of some one
+he had at some time known. He selected his writing paper and took up a
+pen, but the feeling within him that he must look again and see if he
+could possibly recognize his comrade in arms was too strong to be
+resisted. Apparently the feeling was mutual, for when Pen did turn his
+eyes in the direction of the other visitor, he found that the young
+man had ceased writing, and was sitting erect in his chair and
+looking squarely at him. It needed no second glance to convince him
+that his companion was none other than Aleck Sands. For a moment there
+was an awkward pause. It was apparent that the recognition was mutual,
+but it was apparent also that in the shock of surprise neither boy
+knew quite what to do. It was Aleck who made the first move. He rose,
+crossed the room to where Pen was sitting, and held out his hand.
+
+"Pen," he said, "are you willing to shake hands with me now? You know
+I was dog enough once to refuse a like offer from you."
+
+"I'm not only willing but glad to, if you want to let bygones be
+bygones."
+
+"I'll agree to that if you will agree to forgive me for what I've done
+against you and against the flag."
+
+"What you've done against the flag?"
+
+Pen was staring at him in surprise. When had the burden of that guilt
+been shifted?
+
+"Yes, I," answered Aleck. "I did far more against the flag that day at
+Chestnut Hill than you ever thought of doing. I haven't realized it
+until lately, but now that I do know it, I'm trying in every way I
+possibly can to make it right."
+
+"Why, you didn't trample on it, nor speak of it disrespectfully, nor
+refuse to apologize to it; it was I who did all that."
+
+"I know, but I dogged you into it. If I myself had paid proper respect
+to the flag you would never have got into that trouble. Pen, I never
+did a more unpatriotic, contemptible thing in my life than I did when
+I wrapped that flag around me and dared you to molest me. It was a
+cowardly use to make of the Stars and Stripes. Moreover, I did it
+deliberately, and you--you acted on the impulse of the moment. It was
+I who committed the real fault, and it has been you who have suffered
+for it."
+
+"Well, I gave you a pretty good punching, didn't I?"
+
+"Yes, but the punching you gave me was not a thousandth part of what I
+deserved; and, if you think it would even matters up any, I'd be
+perfectly willing to stand up to-night and let you knock me down a
+dozen times. Since this war came on I've despised myself more than I
+can tell you for my treatment of the flag that day, and for my
+treatment of you ever since."
+
+That he was in dead earnest there could be no doubt. Phlegmatic and
+conservative by nature, when he was once roused he was not easily
+suppressed. Pen began to feel sorry for him.
+
+"You're too hard on yourself," he said. "I think you did make a
+mistake that day, so did I. But we were both kids, and in a way we
+were irresponsible."
+
+"Yes, I know. There's something in that, to be sure. But that doesn't
+excuse me for letting the thing go as I got older and knew better, and
+letting you bear all the blame and all the punishment, and never
+lifting a finger to try to help you out. That was mean and
+contemptible."
+
+"Well, it's all over now, so forget it."
+
+"But I haven't been able to forget it. I've thought of it night and
+day for a year. A dozen times I've started to hunt you up and tell
+you what I'm telling you to-night, and every time I've backed out. I
+couldn't bear to face the music. And when I heard that they turned you
+down when you tried to enlist in the Guard at Lowbridge, on account of
+the old trouble, that capped the climax. I couldn't stand it any
+longer; I felt that I had to shoulder my part of that burden somehow,
+and that the very best way for me to do it was to go and fight; and if
+I couldn't fight under my own flag, then to go and fight under the
+next best flag, the Union Jack. I felt that after I'd had my baptism
+of fire I'd have the face and courage to go to you and tell you what
+I've been telling you now. But I'm glad it's over. My soul! I'm glad
+it's over!"
+
+He dropped into a chair by the table and rested his head on his open
+hand as though the recital of his story had exhausted him. Pen stood
+over him and laid a comforting arm about his shoulder.
+
+"It's all right, old man!" he said. "You've done the fair thing, and a
+great lot more. Now let's call quits and talk about something else.
+When did you come up here?"
+
+"Five days ago. I'm just getting into the swing."
+
+"Well, you're exactly the right sort. I'm mighty glad you're here.
+We'll fix it so we can be in the same company, and bunk together. What
+do you say?"
+
+"Splendid! if you're willing. Can it be done? I'm in company M of the
+--th Battalion."
+
+"I know of the same thing having been done since I've been here. We'll
+try it on, anyway."
+
+They did try it on, and three days later the transfer was made. After
+that they were comrades indeed, occupying the same quarters, marching
+shoulder to shoulder with each other in the ranks, sharing with each
+other all the comforts and privations of life in the barracks, moved
+by a common impulse of patriotism and chivalry, longing for the day to
+come when they could prove their mettle under fire.
+
+But it was not until February 1916 that they went abroad. After three
+months of intensive training they were hardened, supple, and skillful.
+But their military education was not yet complete. Commanders of
+armies know that raw or semi-raw troops are worse than useless in
+modern warfare. Soldiers in these days must know their business
+thoroughly if they are to meet an enemy on equal terms. They must be
+artisans as well as soldiers, laborers as well as riflemen, human
+machines compounded of blood and courage.
+
+So, in a great camp not far from London, there were three months more
+of drill and discipline and drastic preparation for the firing line.
+
+But at last, in late May, when the young grass was green on England's
+lawns, and the wings of birds were flashing everywhere in the
+sunshine, and nature was rioting in leaf and flower, a troop-ship,
+laden to the gunwales with the finest and the best of Canada's young
+patriots and many of the most stalwart youth of the States, landed on
+the welcoming shore of France. In England evidences of the great war
+had been marked, abundant and harrowing. But here, in the country
+whose soil had been invaded, the grim and stirring actualities of the
+mighty conflict were brought home to the onlooker with startling
+distinctness. At the railroad station, where the troops entrained for
+the front, every sight and sound was eloquent with the tenseness of
+preparation and the tragedy of the long fight. Soldiers were
+everywhere. Coats of blue, trousers of red, jackets of green, gave
+color and variety to the prevailing mass of sober khaki. Here too,
+dotting the hurrying throng, were the pathetic figures of the stricken
+and wounded, haggard, bandaged, limping, maimed, on canes and
+crutches, back from the front, released from the hospitals, seeking
+the rest and quiet that their sacrifices and heroism had so well
+earned. And here too, ministering to the needs of the suffering and
+the helpless, were many of the white-robed nurses of the Red Cross.
+
+It was evening when the train bearing the first section of the --th
+Battalion of Canadian Light Infantry to which Pen and Aleck belonged
+steamed slowly out of the station. All night, in the darkness, across
+the fields and through the fine old forests of northern France the
+slow rumble of the coaches, interrupted by many stops, kept up. But in
+the gray of the early morning, a short distance beyond Amiens, in the
+midst of a mist covered meadow, the train pulled up for the last time.
+This had been fighting ground. Here the invading hosts of Germany had
+been met and driven back. Ruined farm houses, shattered trees, lines
+of old trenches scarring the surface of the meadow, all told their
+eloquent tale of ruthless and devastating war. And yonder, in the
+valley, the slow-moving Somme wound its shadowy way between green
+banks and overhanging foliage as peacefully and beautifully as though
+its silent waters had never been flecked with the blood of dying men.
+Even now, as the troops detrained and marched to the sections of the
+field assigned them, the dull and continuous roar of cannon in the
+distance came to their ears with menacing distinctness.
+
+"It's the thunder of the guns!" exclaimed Pen. "I hope to-morrow finds
+us where they're firing them."
+
+"I'm with you," responded Aleck. "I shall be frightened to death when
+they first put me under fire, but the sooner I'm hardened to it the
+better."
+
+"Tut! You'll be as brave as a lion. It's your kind that wins battles."
+
+Pen turned his face toward a horizon lost in a haze of smoke, and the
+look in his eyes showed that he at least, would be no coward when the
+supreme moment came. Lieutenant Davis of their company strolled by;
+impatiently waiting for further orders. He was a strict disciplinarian
+indeed, but he was very human and his men all loved him. Pen pointed
+in the direction from which came the muffled sounds of warfare.
+
+"When shall we be there, Lieutenant?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know, Butler," was the response. "It may be to-morrow; it may
+be next month. Only those in high command know and they're not
+telling. We may camp right here for weeks."
+
+But they did not camp there. In the early evening there came marching
+orders, and, under cover of darkness, the entire battalion swung into
+a muddy and congested road and tramped along it for many hours. But
+they got no nearer to the fighting line. Weary, hungry and thirsty,
+they stopped at last on the face of a gently sloping hill protected
+from the north by a forest which had not yet suffered destruction
+either at the hands of sappers or from the violence of shells. It was
+apparent that this had been a camp for a large body of troops before
+the advancement of the lines. It was deserted now, but there were many
+caves in the hillside, and hundreds of little huts made of earth and
+wood under the sheltering trunks and branches of the trees. It was in
+one of these huts that Pen and Aleck, together with four of their
+comrades, were billeted. It was not long after their arrival before
+hastily built fires were burning, and coffee, hot and fragrant, was
+brewing, to refresh the tired bodies of the men, until the arrival of
+the provision trains should supply them with a more substantial
+breakfast. There was plenty of straw, however, and on that the weary
+troops threw themselves down and slept.
+
+At this camp the battalion remained until the middle of June. There
+were drills, marching and battalion maneuvers by day, such recreation
+in the evenings as camp life could afford, sound sleeping on beds of
+straw at night, and always, from the distance, sometimes loud and
+continuous, sometimes faint and occasional, the thunder of the guns.
+And always, too, along the muddy high-road at the foot of the slope, a
+never-ending procession of provision and munition trains laboring
+toward the front, and the human wreckage of the firing line, and
+troops released from the trenches, passing painfully to the rear. No
+wonder the men grew impatient and longed for the activities of the
+front even though their ears were ever filled with tales of horror
+from the lips of those who had survived the ordeal of battle.
+
+But, soon after the middle of June, their desires were realized.
+Orders came to break camp and prepare to march, to what point no one
+seemed to know, but every one hoped and expected it would be to the
+trenches. There was a day of bustle and hurry. The men stocked up
+their haversacks, filled their canteens and cartridge-boxes, put their
+guns in complete readiness, and at five o'clock in the afternoon were
+assembled and began their march. The road was ankle-deep with mud,
+for there had been much rain, and it was congested with endless
+convoys. There were many delays. A heavy mist fell and added to the
+uncertainty, the weariness and discomfort. But no complaint escaped
+from any man's lips, for they all felt that at last they were going
+into action. Four hours of marching brought them into the neighborhood
+of the British heavy artillery concealed under branches broken from
+trees or in mud huts, directing their fire on the enemy's lines by the
+aid of signals from lookouts far in advance or in the air. The noise
+of these big guns was terrific, but inspiring. At nine o'clock there
+was a halt of sufficient length to serve the men with coffee and
+bread, and then the march was resumed. By and by shells from the guns
+of the Allies began to shriek high over the heads of the marching men,
+and were replied to by the enemy shells humming and whining by,
+seeking out and endeavoring to silence the Allied artillery. Now and
+then one of these missiles would burst in the rear of the column,
+sending up a glare of flame and a cloud of dust and debris, but at
+what cost in life no one in the line knew.
+
+As the men advanced the mud grew deeper, the way narrower, the
+congestion greater. The passing of enemy shells was less frequent, but
+precautions for safety were increased. Advantage was taken of ravines,
+of fences, of fourth and fifth line trenches. The troops ere not
+beyond range of the German sharpshooters, and the swish of bullets was
+heard occasionally in the air above the heads of the marchers.
+
+It was toward morning that the destination of the column was reached,
+and, in single file, the men of Pen's section passed down an incline
+into their first communicating trench, and then past a maze of lateral
+trenches to the opening into the salients they were to supply. It was
+here that the soldiers whom they were to relieve filed out by them.
+Going forward, they took the places of the retiring section. At last
+they were in the first line trench, with the enemy trenches scarcely a
+hundred meters in front of them. Sentries were placed at the
+loop-holes made in the earth embankment, and the remainder of the
+section retired to their dug-outs. These under-ground rooms, built
+down and out from the trench, and bomb-proof, were capable of holding
+from eight to a dozen men. They were carpeted with straw, some of them
+had shelves, and in many of them discarded bayonets were driven into
+the walls to form hooks. It was in these places that the men who were
+off duty rested and ate and slept.
+
+In the gray light of the early June morning, Pen, who had been posted
+at one of the loop-holes as a listening sentry, looked out to see what
+lay in front of him. But the most that could be seen were the long and
+winding earth embankments that marked the lines of the German
+entrenchments, and between, on "no man's land," a maze of barbed wire
+entanglements. No living human being was in sight, but, at one place,
+crumpled up, partly sustained by meshes of wire, there was a ragged
+heap, the sight of which sent a chill to the boy's heart. It required
+no second glance to discover that this was the unrescued body of a
+soldier who had been too daring. Pen had seen his first war-slain
+corpse. Indeed, war was becoming to him now a reality. For, suddenly,
+a little of the soft earth at his side spattered into his face. An
+enemy bullet had struck there. In his eagerness to see he had exposed
+too much of his head and shoulders and had become the target for Boche
+sharpshooters. Other bullets pattered down around his loop-hole, and
+only by seeking the quick shelter of the trench did he escape injury
+or death. It was his first lesson in self-protection on the
+firing-line, but he profited by it. Two hours later he and Aleck, who
+had also been doing duty on a lookout platform, were relieved by their
+comrades, and threw themselves down on the straw of their dug-out and,
+wearied to the point of exhaustion, slept soundly. With the dawning of
+day the noise of cannonading increased, the whining of deadly missiles
+grew more incessant, the crash of exploding shells more frequent, but,
+until they were roused by their sergeant and bidden to eat their
+breakfast which had been brought by a ration-party, both boys slept.
+So soon had the menacing sounds of war become familiar to their ears.
+After breakfast those who were not on sentry duty were put to work
+repairing trenches, filling sand-bags, enlarging dug-outs, pumping
+water from low places, cleaning rifles, performing a hundred tasks
+which were necessary to make trench life endurable and reasonably
+safe. The food was good and was still abundant. There were fresh meat,
+bacon, canned soups and vegetables, bread, butter, jam and coffee. The
+two hours on sentry duty were by far the most strenuous in the daily
+routine. To remain in one position, with eyes glued to the narrow slit
+in the embankment, gas mask at hand, hand-grenades in readiness, rifle
+in position ready to be discharged on the second, the fate of the
+whole army perhaps resting on one man's vigilance, this was no easy
+task.
+
+But there were no complaints. The men were on the firing line, ready
+to obey orders, whatever they might be; they asked only one thing
+more, and that was to fight. But, in these days, there was a lull in
+the actual fighting. The "big drive" had not yet been launched. Aside
+from a skirmish now and then, a fierce bombardment for a few hours,
+an attempt, on one side or the other, to rush a trench, there was
+little aggressive warfare in this neighborhood, and few casualties;
+nor was there any material variance in the front lines of trenches on
+either side. There were six days of this kind of duty and then the men
+of Pen's company were relieved and sent to the rear for a week's rest,
+to act as reserves, and to be called during that time only in case of
+an emergency. But the following week saw them again at the front; not
+in the same trench where they had first served, but in an advanced
+position farther to the south. The trenches here were not so roomy nor
+so dry as had been those of the first assignment. There was much mud,
+slippery and deep, to be contended with, and the walls at the sides
+were continually caving in. The duties of the men, however, were not
+materially different from those with which they were already familiar.
+Clashes had been more frequent here, and the dead bodies of soldiers,
+crumpled up in the trench or lying, unrescued, on the scarred and
+fire-swept surface of "no man's land" were not an unusual sight. But
+the "rookies" were becoming hardened now to many of the horrors of
+war.
+
+It was while they were in this trench that Pen had his "baptism of
+fire." Late one afternoon the German artillery began shelling fiercely
+the first line of Allied trenches. Aleck and Pen were both on sentry
+duty. Just beyond them Lieutenant Davis stood at an advanced lookout
+post intent on studying the outside situation by means of his
+periscope. At irregular intervals machine guns, deftly hidden from the
+sight of the enemy, poked their menacing mouths toward the Boche
+lines. Now and then, finding its mark at some point in the course of
+the winding trench, an enemy shell would explode throwing clouds of
+dust and debris into the air, wrecking the earthworks where it fell,
+taking its toll of human lives and limbs. Twice Pen was thrown off his
+feet by the shock of near-by explosions, but he escaped injury, as did
+also Aleck. It was apparent that the Germans were either making a
+feint for the purpose of attacking at some unexpected point, or else
+that they were preparing for a charge on the trenches which they were
+bombarding. It developed that the latter theory was the correct one,
+for, after a while, they directed their fire to the rear of the first
+line trenches, and set up a still more furious bombardment. This, as
+every one knew, was for the purpose of preventing the British from
+bringing up reinforcements, and to give their own troops the
+opportunity to charge into the Allied front. The charge was not long
+delayed. A gray wave poured over the parapet of the German first line
+trench, rolled through the prepared openings in their own barbed-wire
+entanglements, and advanced, alternately running and creeping, toward
+the Allied line. But when the Germans were once in the open a terrible
+thing happened to them. The machine guns from all along the British
+trenches met them with a rain of bullets that mowed them down as grain
+falls to the blades of the farmer's reaper. The rifles of the men in
+khaki, resting on the benches of the parapet, spit constant and deadly
+fire at them. The artillery to the rear, in constant telephone touch
+with the first line, quickly found the range and dropped shells into
+the charging mass with terrible effect. A second body of gray-clad
+soldiers with fixed bayonets swarmed out of the German trenches and
+came to the help of their hard-beset comrades, and met a similar fate.
+Then a third platoon came on, and a fourth. The resources of the enemy
+in men seemed endless, their persistence remarkable, their
+recklessness in the face of sure death almost unbelievable. The noise
+was terrific; the constant rattle of the machine guns, the spitting of
+rifles, the booming of the artillery, the whining and crashing of
+shells, the yells of the charging troops, the shrieks of the wounded.
+In the British trenches the men were assembled, ready to pour out at
+the whistle and repel the assault on open ground; but it was not
+necessary for them to do so. The German ranks, unable to withstand the
+fire that devoured them as they met it, a fire that it was humanly
+impossible for any troops to withstand, turned back and sought the
+shelter of their trenches, leaving their dead and wounded piled and
+sprawled by the hundreds on the ground they had failed to cross.
+
+The casualties among the Canadian troops were not large, and they had
+occurred mostly before the charge had been launched, but it was in
+deep sorrow that the men from across the ocean gathered up from the
+shattered trenches the pierced and broken bodies of their comrades,
+and sent them to the rear, the living to be cared for in the
+hospitals, the dead to be buried on the soil of France where they had
+bravely fought and nobly died.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The great Somme drive began on July 1, 1916, after a week's
+devastating bombardment of the German lines. The enemy trenches had
+been torn and shattered, and when the Allied armies, in great numbers
+and with abundant ammunition, swept out and down upon them, the
+impetus and force of the advance were irresistible. Trenches were
+blotted out. Towns were taken. The German lines melted away over wide
+areas. Victory, decisive and permanent, rested on the Allied banners.
+On the third of the month the British took La Boiselle and four
+thousand three hundred prisoners. But on the fourth the enemy troops
+turned and fought like wild animals at bay. This was the day on which
+Aleck received his wounds. In the morning, as they lay sprawled in a
+ravine which had been captured the night before, waiting for orders to
+push still farther on, Aleck had said to Pen:
+
+"You know what day this is, comrade?"
+
+"Indeed I do!" was the reply, "it's Independence Day."
+
+"Right you are. I wish I could get sight of an American flag. It will
+be the first time in my life that I haven't seen 'Old Glory' somewhere
+on the Fourth of July."
+
+"True. Back yonder in the States they'll be having parades and
+speeches, and the flag will be flying from every masthead. If only
+they could be made to realize that it's really that flag that we're
+fighting for, you and I, and drop this cloak of neutrality, and come
+over here as a nation and help us, wouldn't that be glorious?"
+
+Pen's face was grimy, his uniform was torn and stained, his hair was
+tousled; somewhere he had lost his cap and the times were too
+strenuous to get another; but out from his eyes there shone a
+tenderness, a longing, a determination that marked him as a true
+soldier of the American Legion.
+
+The cannonading had again begun. Shells were whining and whistling
+above their heads and exploding in the enemy lines not far beyond.
+Off to the right, a village in flames sent up great clouds of smoke,
+and the roar of the conflagration was joined to the noise of
+artillery. Back of the lines the ground was strewn with wreckage,
+pitted with shell-holes, ghastly with its harvest of bodies of the
+slain. With rifles gripped, bayonets ready, hand grenades near by, the
+boys lay waiting for the word of command.
+
+"Aleck?"
+
+"Yes, comrade."
+
+"Over yonder at Chestnut Hill, on the school-grounds, the flag will be
+floating from the top of the staff to-day."
+
+"Yes, I know. It will be a pretty sight. I used to be ashamed to look
+at it. You know why. To-day I could stare at it and glory in it for
+hours."
+
+"That flag at the school-house is the most beautiful American flag in
+the world. I never saw it but once, but it thrilled me then
+unspeakably. I have loved it ever since. I can think of but one other
+sight that would be more beautiful and thrilling."
+
+"And what is that?"
+
+"To see 'Old Glory' waving from the top of a flag-staff here on the
+soil of France, signifying that our country has taken up the cause of
+the Allies and thrown herself, with all her heart and might into this
+war."
+
+"Wait; you will see it, comrade, you will see it. It can't be delayed
+for long now."
+
+Then the order came to advance. In a storm of shrapnel, bullets and
+flame, the British host swept down again upon the foe. The Germans
+gave desperate and deadly resistance. They fought hand to hand, with
+bayonets and clubbed muskets and grenades. It was a death grapple,
+with decisive victory on neither side. In the wild onrush and terrific
+clash, Pen lost touch with his comrade. Only once he saw him after the
+charge was launched. Aleck waved to him and smiled and plunged into
+the thick of the carnage. Two hours later, staggering with shock and
+heat and superficial wounds, and choking with thirst and the smoke and
+dust of conflict, Pen made his way with the survivors of his section
+back over the ground that had been traversed, to find rest and
+refreshment at the rear. They had been relieved by fresh troops sent
+in to hold the narrow strip of territory that had been gained.
+Stumbling along over the torn soil, through wreckage indescribable,
+among dead bodies lying singly and in heaps, stopping now and then to
+aid a dying man, or give such comfort as he could to a wounded and
+helpless comrade, Pen struggled slowly and painfully toward a resting
+spot.
+
+At one place, through eyes half blinded by sweat and smoke and
+trickling blood, he saw a man partially reclining against a post to
+which a tangled and broken mass of barbed wire was still clinging. The
+man was evidently making weak and ineffectual attempts to care for his
+own wounds. Pen stopped to assist him if he could. Looking down into
+his face he saw that it was Aleck. He was not shocked, nor did he
+manifest any surprise. He had seen too much of the actuality of war to
+be startled now by any sight or sound however terrible. He simply
+said:
+
+"Well, old man, I see they got you. Here, let me help."
+
+He knelt down by the side of his wounded comrade, and, with shaking
+hands, endeavored to staunch the flow of blood and to bind up two
+dreadful wounds, a gaping, jagged hole in the breast beneath the
+shoulder, made by the thrust and twist of a Boche bayonet, and a torn
+and shattered knee.
+
+Aleck did not at first recognize him, but a moment later, seeing who
+it was that had stopped to help him, he reached up a trembling hand
+and laid it on his friend's face. Something in his mouth or throat had
+gone wrong and he could not speak.
+
+After exhausting his comrade's emergency kit and his own in first aid
+treatment of the wounds, Pen called for assistance to a soldier who
+was staggering by, and between them, across the torn field with its
+crimson and ghastly fruitage, with fragments of shrapnel hurtling
+above them, and with bodies of soldiers, dead and living, tossed into
+the murky air by constantly exploding shells, they half carried, half
+dragged the wounded man across the ravine and up the hill to a
+captured German trench, and turned him over to the stretcher-bearers
+to be taken to the ambulances.
+
+It was after this day's fighting that Pen, "for conspicuous bravery in
+action," was promoted to the rank of sergeant. He wore his honor
+modestly. It gave him, perhaps, a better opportunity to do good work
+for Britain and for France, and to rehabilitate himself in the eyes of
+his own countrymen; otherwise it did not matter.
+
+So the fighting on the Somme went on day after day, week after week,
+persistent, desperate, bloody. It was early in August, after the
+terrific battle by which the whole of Delville Wood passed into
+British control, that Pen's battalion was relieved and sent far to the
+rear for a long rest. Even unwounded men cannot stand the strain of
+continuous battle for many weeks at a stretch. The nervous system,
+delicate and complicated, must have relief, or the physical
+organization will collapse, or the mind give way, or both.
+
+At the end of the first night's march from the front the battalion
+camped in the streets of a little, half-wrecked village on the banks
+of the Avre. Up on the hillside was a long, rambling building which
+had once been a convent but was now a hospital. Pen knew that
+somewhere in a hospital back of the Somme Aleck was still lying, too
+ill to be moved farther to the rear. It occurred to him that he might
+find him here. So, in the hazy moonlight of the August evening, having
+obtained the necessary leave, he set out to make inquiry. He passed up
+the winding walk, under a canopy of fine old trees, and reached the
+entrance to the building. From the porch, looking to the north, toward
+the valley of the Somme, he could see on the horizon the dull gleam of
+red that marked the battle line, and he could hear the faint
+reverberations of the big guns that told of the fighting still in
+progress. But here it was very quiet, very peaceful, very beautiful.
+For the first time since his entrance into the great struggle he
+longed for an end of the strife, and a return to the calm, sweet,
+lovely things of life. But he did not permit this mood to remain long
+with him. He knew that the war must go on until the spirit that
+launched it was subdued and crushed, and that he must go with it to
+whatever end God might will.
+
+He found Aleck there. He had felt that he would, and while he was
+delighted he was not greatly surprised. There was little emotion
+manifested at the meeting of the two boys. The horrors of war were too
+close and too vivid yet for that. But the fact that they were glad to
+look again into one another's eyes admitted of no doubt. Aleck had
+recovered the use of his voice, but he was still too weak to talk at
+any length. The bayonet wound in his shoulder had healed nicely, but
+his shattered knee had come terribly near to costing him his life.
+There had been infection. Amputation of the leg had been imminent. The
+surgeons and the nurses had struggled with the case for weeks and had
+finally conquered.
+
+"I shall still have two legs," said Aleck jocosely, "and I'll be glad
+of that; but I'm afraid this one will be a weak brother for a long
+time. I won't be kicking football this fall, anyway."
+
+"It's the fortune of war," replied Pen.
+
+"I know. I'm not complaining, and I'm not sorry. I've had my chance.
+I've seen war. I've fought for France. I'm satisfied."
+
+He lay back on the pillow, pale-faced, emaciated, weak; but in his
+eyes was a glow of patriotic pride in his own suffering, and pride in
+the knowledge that he had entered the fight and had fought bravely and
+well.
+
+"America ought to be proud of you," said Pen, "and of all the other
+boys from the States who have fought and suffered, and of those who
+have died in this war. I told you you'd be no coward when the time
+came to fight, and, my faith! you were not. I can see you now, with a
+smile and a wave of the hand plunging into that bloody chaos."
+
+"Thank you, comrade! I may never fight again, but I can go back home
+now and face the flag and not be ashamed."
+
+"Indeed, you can! And when will you go?"
+
+"I don't know. They'll take me across the channel as soon as I'm able
+to leave here, and then, when I can travel comfortably I suppose I'll
+be invalided home."
+
+"Well, old man, when you get there, you say to my mother and my aunt
+Milly, and my dear old grandfather Butler, that when you saw me last
+I was well, and contented, and glad to be doing my bit."
+
+"I will, Pen."
+
+"And, Aleck?"
+
+"Yes, comrade."
+
+"If you should chance to go by the school-house, and see the old flag
+waving there, give it one loving glance for me, will you?"
+
+"With all my heart!"
+
+"So, then, good-by!"
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+It was in the spacious grounds of an old French château not far from
+Beauvais on the river Andelle that Pen's battalion camped for their
+period of rest and recuperation. There were long, sunshiny days,
+nights of undisturbed and refreshing sleep, recreation and
+entertainment sufficient to divert tired brains, and a freedom from
+undue restraint that was most welcome. Moreover there were letters and
+parcels from home, with plenty of time to read them and to re-read
+them, to dwell upon them and to enjoy them. If the loved ones back in
+the quiet cities and villages and countryside could only realize how
+much letters and parcels from home mean to the tired bodies and
+strained nerves of the war-worn boys at the front, there would never
+be a lack of these comforts and enjoyments that go farther than
+anything else to brighten the lives and hearten the spirits of the
+soldier-heroes in the trenches and the camps.
+
+Pen had his full share of these pleasures. His mother, his Aunt
+Millicent, Colonel Butler, and even Grandpa Walker from Cobb's
+Corners, kept him supplied with news, admonition, encouragement and
+affection. And these little waves of love and commendation, rolling up
+to him at irregular intervals, were like sweet and fragrant draughts
+of life-giving air to one who for months had breathed only the smoke
+of battle and the foulness of the trenches.
+
+At the end of August, orders came for the battalion to return to the
+front. There were two days of bustling preparation, and then the
+troops entrained and were carried back to where the noise of the
+seventy-fives on the one side and the seventy-sevens on the other,
+came rumbling and thundering again to their ears, and the pall of
+smoke along the horizon marked the location of the firing line.
+
+But their destination this time was farther to the south, on the
+British right wing, where French and English soldiers touched elbows
+with each other, and Canadian and Australian fraternized in a common
+enterprise. Here again the old trench life was resumed; sentinel duty,
+daring adventures, wild charges, the shock and din of constant battle,
+brief periods of rest and recuperation. But the process of attrition
+was going on, the enemy was being pushed back, inch by inch it seemed,
+but always, eventually, back. As for Pen, he led a charmed life. Men
+fell to right of him and to left of him, and were torn into shreds at
+his back; but, save for superficial wounds, for temporary
+strangulation from gas, for momentary insensibility from shock, he was
+unharmed.
+
+It was in October, after Lieutenant Davis had been promoted to the
+captaincy, that Pen was made second lieutenant of his company. He well
+deserved the honor. There was a little celebration of the event among
+his men, for his comrades all loved him and honored him. They said it
+would not be long before he would be wearing the Victoria Cross on his
+breast. Yet few of them had been with him from the beginning. Of those
+who had landed with him upon French soil the preceding May only a
+pitifully small percentage remained. Killed, wounded, missing, one by
+one and in groups, they had dropped out, and the depleted ranks had
+been filled with new blood.
+
+In November they were sent up into the Arras sector, but in December
+they were back again in their old quarters on the Somme. And yet it
+was not their old quarters, for the British front had been advanced
+over a wide area, for many miles in length, and imperturbable Tommies
+were now smoking their pipes in many a reversed trench that had
+theretofore been occupied by gray-clad Boches. But they were not
+pleasant trenches to occupy. They were very narrow and very muddy, and
+parts of the bodies of dead men protruded here and there from their
+walls and parapets. Moreover, in December it is very cold in northern
+France, and, muffle as they would, even the boys from Canada suffered
+from the severity of the weather. They asked only to be permitted to
+keep their blood warm by aggressive action against their enemy. And,
+just before the Christmas holidays, the aggressive action they had
+longed for came.
+
+It was no great battle, no important historic event, just an incident
+in the policy of attrition which was constantly wearing away the
+German lines. An attempt was to be made to drive a wedge into the
+enemy's front at a certain vital point, and, in order to cover the
+real thrust, several feints were to be made at other places not far
+away. One of these latter expeditions had been intrusted to a part of
+Pen's battalion. At six o'clock in the afternoon the British artillery
+was to bombard the first line of enemy trenches for an hour and a
+half. Then the artillery fire was to lift to the second line, and the
+Canadian troops were to rush the first line with the bayonet, carry
+it, and when the artillery fire lifted to the third line they were to
+pass on to the second hostile trench and take and hold that for a
+sufficient length of time to divert the enemy from the point of real
+attack, and then they were to withdraw to their own lines. Permanent
+occupation of the captured trenches at the point seemed inadvisable at
+this time, if not wholly impossible.
+
+It was not a welcome task that had been assigned to these troops.
+Soldiers like to hold the ground they have won in any fight; and to
+retire after partial victory was not to their liking. But it was part
+of the game and they were content. So far as his section was concerned
+Pen assembled his men, explained the situation to them, and told them
+frankly what they were expected to do.
+
+"It's going to be a very pretty fight," he added, "probably the
+hardest tussle we've had yet. The Boches are well dug in over there,
+and they're well backed with artillery, and they're not going to give
+up those trenches without a protest. Some of us will not come back;
+and some of us who do come back will never fight again. You know that.
+But, whatever happens, Canada and the States will have no reason to
+blush for us. We're fighting in a splendid cause, and we'll do our
+part like the soldiers we are."
+
+"Aye! that we will!" "Right you are!" "Give us the chance!" "Wherever
+you lead, we follow!"
+
+It seemed as though every man in the section gave voice to his
+willingness and enthusiasm.
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Pen. "I knew you'd feel that way about it. I've
+never asked a man of you to go where I wouldn't go myself, and I never
+shall. I simply wanted to warn you that it's going to be a hot place
+over there to-night, and you must be prepared for it."
+
+"We're ready! All you've got to do is to say the word."
+
+No undue familiarity was intended; respect for their commander was in
+no degree lessened, but they loved him and would have followed him
+anywhere, and they wanted him to know it.
+
+The unusual activity in the Allied trenches, observed by enemy
+aircraft, combined with the terrific cannonading of their lines, had
+evidently convinced the enemy that some aggressive movement against
+them was in contemplation, for their artillery fire now, at seven
+o'clock, was directed squarely upon the outer lines of British
+trenches, bringing havoc and horror in the wake of the exploding
+shells.
+
+It was under this galling bombardment that the men of the second
+section adjusted their packs, buckled the last strap of their
+equipment, took firm bold of their rifles, and crouched against the
+front wall of their trench, ready for the final spring.
+
+[Illustration: Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of His Brave
+Platoon]
+
+At seven-thirty o'clock the order came. It was a sharp blast of a
+whistle, made by the commanding officer. The next moment, led by
+Lieutenant Butler, the men were up, sliding over the parapet, worming
+their way through gaps in their own wire entanglements, and forming in
+the semblance of a line outside. It all took but a minute, and then
+the rush toward the enemy trenches began. It seemed as though every
+gun of every calibre in the German army was let loose upon them. The
+artillery shortened its range and dropped exploding shells among them
+with dreadful effect. Machine guns mowed them down in swaths.
+Hand-grenades tore gaps in their ranks. Rifle bullets, hissing like
+hail, took terrible toll of them. Out of the blackness overhead, lit
+with the flame of explosions, fell a constant rain of metal, of clods
+of earth, of fragments of equipment, of parts of human bodies. The
+experience was wild and terrible beyond description.
+
+Pen took no note of the whining and crashing missiles about him, nor
+of the men falling on both sides of him, nor of the shrieking,
+gesticulating human beings behind him. Into the face of death, his
+eyes fixed on the curtain of fire before him, heroic and inspired, he
+led the remnant of his brave platoon. Through the gaps torn out of the
+enemy entanglements by the preliminary bombardment, and on into the
+first line of Boche entrenchments they pounded and pushed their way.
+Then came fighting indeed; hand to hand, with fixed bayonets and
+clubbed muskets and death grapples in the darkness, and everywhere,
+smearing and soaking the combatants, the blood of men. But the first
+trench, already battered into a shapeless and shallow ravine, was won.
+Canada was triumphant. The curtain of artillery fire lifted and fell
+on the enemy's third line. So, now, forward again, leaving the
+"trench cleaners" to hunt out those of the enemy who had taken
+refuge in holes and caves. Again the rain of hurtling and hissing and
+crashing steel. Human fortitude and endurance were indeed no match for
+this. Again the clubs and bayonets and wild men reaching with
+blood-smeared hands for each other's throats in the darkness.
+
+And then, to Penfield Butler, at last, came the soldier's destiny. It
+seemed as though some mighty force had struck him in the breast,
+whirled him round and round, toppled him to earth, and left him lying
+there, crushed, bleeding and unconscious. How long it was that he lay
+oblivious of the conflict he did not know. But when he awakened to
+sensibility the rush of battle had ceased. There was no fighting
+around him. He had a sense of great suffocation. He knew that he was
+spitting blood. He tried to raise his hand, and his revolver fell from
+the nerveless fingers that were still grasping it. A little later he
+raised his other hand to his breast and felt that his clothing was
+torn and soaked. He lifted his head, and in the light of an enemy
+flare he looked about him. He saw only the torn soil covered with
+crouched and sprawling bodies of the wounded and the dead, and with
+wreckage indescribable. Bullets were humming and whistling overhead,
+and spattering the ground around him. Men in the agony of their wounds
+were moaning and crying near by. He lay back and tried to think. By
+the light of the next flare he saw the rough edge of a great
+shell-hole a little way beyond him toward the British lines. In the
+darkness he tried to crawl toward it. It would be safer there than in
+this whistling cross-fire of bullets. He did not dare try to rise. He
+could not turn himself on his stomach, the pain and sense of
+suffocation were too great when he attempted it. So he pulled himself
+along in the darkness on his back to the cavity, and sought shelter
+within it. Bodies of others who had attempted to run or creep to it,
+and had been caught by Boche bullets on the way, were hanging over its
+edge. Under its protecting shoulder were many wounded, treating their
+own injuries, helping others as they could in the darkness and by the
+fitful light of the German flares. Some one, whose friendly voice was
+half familiar, yet sounded strange and far away, dragged the exhausted
+boy still farther into shelter, felt of his blood-soaked chest, and
+endeavored, awkwardly and crudely, for he himself was wounded, to give
+first aid. And then again came unconsciousness.
+
+So, in the black night, in the shell-made cavern with the pall of
+flame-streaked battle smoke hanging over it, and the whining,
+screaming missiles from guns of friend and foe weaving a curtain of
+tangled threads above it, this young soldier of the American Legion,
+his breast shot half in two, his rich blood reddening the soil of
+France, lay steeped in merciful oblivion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+When Colonel Butler declared his intention of going to New York and
+Washington to consult with his friends about the great war, to urge
+active participation in it by the United States, and to offer to the
+proper authorities, his services as a military expert and commander,
+his daughter protested vigorously. It was absurd, she declared, for
+him, at his age, to think of doing anything of the kind; utterly
+preposterous and absurd. But he would not listen to her. His mind was
+made up, and she was entirely unable to divert him from his purpose.
+
+"Then I shall go with you," she declared.
+
+"May I ask," he inquired, "what your object is in wishing to accompany
+me?"
+
+"Because you're not fit to go alone. You're too old and feeble, and
+something might happen to you."
+
+He turned on her a look of infinite scorn.
+
+"Age," he replied, "is no barrier to patriotism. A man's obligation to
+serve his country is not measured by his years. I have never been more
+capable of taking the field against an enemy of civilization than I am
+at this moment. To suggest that I am not fit to travel unless
+accompanied by a female member of my family falls little short of
+being gross disrespect. I shall go alone."
+
+Again she protested, but she was utterly unable to swerve him a hair's
+breadth from his determination and purpose. So she was obliged to see
+him start off by himself on his useless and Quixotic errand. She knew
+that he would return disappointed, saddened, doubly depressed, and ill
+both in body and mind.
+
+Since Pen's abrupt departure to seek a home with his Grandpa Walker,
+Colonel Butler had not been so obedient to his daughter's wishes. He
+had changed in many respects. He had grown old, white-haired, feeble
+and despondent. He was often ill at ease, and sometimes morose. That
+he grieved over the boy's absence there was not a shadow of doubt. Yet
+he would not permit the first suggestion of a reconciliation that did
+not involve the humble application of his grandson to be forgiven and
+taken back. But such an application was not made. The winter days went
+by, spring blossomed into summer, season followed season, and not yet
+had the master of Bannerhall seen coming down the long, gray road to
+the old home the figure of a sorrowful and suppliant boy.
+
+When the world war began, his mind was diverted to some extent from
+his sorrow. From the beginning his sympathies had been with the
+Allies. Old soldier that he was he could not denounce with sufficient
+bitterness the spirit of militarism that seemed to have run rampant
+among the Central Powers. At the invasion of Belgium and at the
+mistreatment of her people, especially of her women and children, at
+the bombardment of the cathedral of Rheims, at the sinking of the
+_Lusitania_, at the execution of Edith Cavell, at all the outrages of
+which German militarism was guilty, he grew more and more indignant
+and denunciatory. His sense of fairness, his spirit of chivalry, his
+ideas of honorable warfare and soldierly conduct were inexpressibly
+shocked. The murder of sleeping women and children in country villages
+by the dropping of bombs from airships, the suffocation of brave
+soldiers by the use of deadly gases, the hurling of liquid fire into
+the ranks of a civilized enemy; these things stirred him to the
+depths. He talked of the war by day, he dreamed of it at night. He
+chafed bitterly at the apparent attempt of the Government at
+Washington to preserve the neutrality of this country against the most
+provoking wrongs. It was our war, he declared, as much as it was the
+war of any nation in Europe, and it was our duty to get into it for
+the sake of humanity, at the earliest possible moment and at any cost.
+His intense feeling and profound conviction in the matter led finally
+to his determination to make the trip to New York and Washington in
+order to present his views and make his recommendations, and to offer
+his services in person, in quarters where he believed they would be
+welcomed and acted on. So he went on what appeared to his daughter to
+be the most preposterous errand he had ever undertaken.
+
+He returned even sooner than she had expected him to come. In response
+to his telegram she sent the carriage to the station to meet him on
+the arrival of the afternoon train. When she heard the rumbling of the
+wheels outside she went to the door, knowing that it would require her
+best effort to cheerfully welcome the disappointed, dejected and
+enfeebled old man. Then she had the surprise of her life. Colonel
+Butler alighted from the carriage and mounted the porch steps with the
+elasticity of youth. He was travel-stained and weary, indeed; but his
+face, from which half the wrinkles seemed to have disappeared, was
+beaming with happiness. He kissed his daughter, and, with
+old-fashioned courtesy, conducted her to a porch chair. In her mind
+there could be but one explanation for his extraordinary appearance
+and conduct; the purpose of his journey had been accomplished and his
+last absurd wish had been gratified.
+
+"I suppose," she said, with a sigh, "they have agreed to adopt your
+plans, and take you back into the army."
+
+"Into the what, my dear?"
+
+"Into the army. Didn't you go to Washington for the purpose of getting
+back into service?"
+
+"Why, yes. I believe I did. Pardon me, but, in view of matters of much
+greater importance, the result of this particular effort had slipped
+my mind."
+
+"Matters of greater importance?"
+
+"Yes. I was about to inform you that while I was in New York I
+unexpectedly ran across my grandson, Master Penfield Butler."
+
+She sat up with a look of surprise and apprehension in her eyes.
+
+"Ran across Pen? What was he doing there?"
+
+"He was on his way to Canada to join those forces of the Dominion
+Government which will eventually sail for France, and help to free
+that unhappy country from the heel of the barbarian."
+
+"You mean--?"
+
+"I mean that Penfield was to enlist, has doubtless now already
+enlisted, with the Canadian troops which, after a period of drilling
+at home, will enter the war on the firing line in northern France."
+
+"Well, for goodness sake!" It was all that Aunt Millicent could say,
+and when she had said that she practically collapsed.
+
+"Yes," he rejoined, "he felt as did I, that the time had come for
+American citizens, both old and young, with red blood in their veins,
+to spill that blood, if necessary, in fighting for the liberty of the
+world. Patriotism, duty, the spirit of his ancestors, called him, and
+he has gone."
+
+Colonel Butler was radiant. His eyes were aglow with enthusiasm. His
+own recommendations for national conduct had gone unheeded indeed, and
+his own offer of military service had been civilly declined; but these
+facts were of small moment compared with the proud knowledge that a
+young scion of his race was about to carry the family traditions and
+prestige into the battle front of the greatest war for liberty that
+the world had ever known.
+
+In Pen's second letter home from Canada he told of the arrival and
+enlistment of Aleck Sands, and of the complete blotting out of the old
+feud that had existed between them. Later on he wrote them, in many
+letters, all about his barrack life, and of how contented and happy he
+was, and how eagerly he was looking forward to the day when he and his
+comrades should cross the water to those countries where the great war
+was a reality. The letter that he wrote the day before he sailed was
+filled with the brightness of enthusiasm and the joy of anticipation.
+And while the long period of drill on English soil became somewhat
+irksome to him, as one reading between the lines could readily
+discover, he made no direct complaint. It was simply a part of the
+game. But it was when he had reached the front, and his letters
+breathed the sternness of the conflict and echoed the thunder of the
+guns, that he was at his best in writing. Mere salutations some of
+them were, written from the trenches by the light of a dug-out candle,
+but they pulsated with patriotism and heroism and a determination to
+live up to the best traditions of a soldier's career.
+
+Colonel Butler devoured every scrap of news that came from the front
+in the half dozen papers that he read daily. He kept in close touch
+with the international situation, he fumed constantly at the
+inactivity of his own government in view of her state of
+unpreparedness for a war into which she must sooner or later be
+inevitably plunged. He lost all patience with what he considered the
+timidity of the President, and what he called the stupidity of
+congress. Was not the youngest and the reddest and the best of the
+Butler blood at the fighting line, ready at any moment to be spilled
+to the death on the altar of the world's liberty? Why then should the
+government of the United States sit supinely by and see the finest
+young manhood of her own and other lands fighting and perishing in the
+cause of humanity when, by voicing the conscience of her people, and
+declaring and making war on the Central Powers, she could most
+effectually aid in bringing to a speedy and victorious end this
+monstrous example of modern barbarism? Why, indeed!
+
+One day Colonel Butler suggested to his daughter that she go up to
+Lowbridge and again inquire whether Pen's mother had any needs of any
+kind that he could possibly supply.
+
+"And," he added, "I wish you to invite her to Bannerhall for a visit
+of indefinite duration. In these trying and critical times my
+daughter-in-law's place is in the ancestral home of her deceased
+husband."
+
+Aunt Millicent, delighted with the purport of her mission, went up to
+Lowbridge and extended the invitation, and, with all the eloquence at
+her command, urged its acceptance. But Sarah Butler was unyielding and
+would not come. She had been wounded too deeply in years gone by.
+
+So spring came, and blade, leaf and flower sprang into beautiful and
+rejoicing existence. No one had ever before seen the orchard trees so
+superbly laden with blossoms. No one had ever before seen a brighter
+promise of a more bountiful season. And the country was still at
+peace, enriching herself with a mintage coined of blood and sorrow
+abroad, though drifting aimlessly and ever closer to the verge of
+war.
+
+There was a time early in July when, for two weeks, no letter came
+from Pen. The suspense was almost unbearable. For days Colonel Butler
+haunted the post-office. His self-assurance left him, his confident
+and convincing voice grew weak, a haunting fear of what news might
+come was with him night and day.
+
+At last he received a letter from abroad. It was from Pen, addressed
+in his own hand-writing. The colonel himself took it from his box at
+the post-office in the presence of a crowd of his neighbors and
+friends awaiting the distribution of their mail. It was scrawled in
+pencil on paper that had never been intended to be used for
+correspondence purposes.
+
+Pen had just learned, he wrote, that the messenger who carried a
+former letter from the trenches for him had been killed en route by an
+exploding shell, and the contents of his mail pouch scattered and
+destroyed. Moreover he had been very busy. Fighting had been brisk,
+there had been a good many casualties in his company, but he himself,
+save for some superficial wounds received on the Fourth of July, was
+unhurt and reasonably well.
+
+    "I am sorry to report, however," the letter continued, "that my
+    comrade, Aleck Sands, has been severely wounded. We were engaged
+    in a brisk assault on the enemy's lines on the Fourth of July, and
+    captured some of their trenches. During the engagement Aleck
+    received a bayonet wound in the shoulder, and a badly battered
+    knee. I was able to help him off the field and to an ambulance. I
+    believe he is somewhere now in a hospital not far to the rear of
+    us. I mean to see him soon if I can find out where he is and get
+    leave. Tell his folks that he fought like a hero. I never saw a
+    braver man in battle.
+
+    "You will be glad to learn that since the engagement on the fourth
+    I have been made a sergeant, 'for conspicuous bravery in action,'
+    the order read.
+
+    "I suppose the flag is flying on the school-house staff these
+    days. How I would like to see it. If I could only see the Stars
+    and Stripes over here, and our own troops under it, I should be
+    perfectly happy. The longer I fight here the more I'm convinced
+    that the cause we're fighting for is a just and glorious one, and
+    the more willing I am to die for it.
+
+    "Give my dear love to Aunt Milly. I have just written to mother.
+
+      "Your affectionate grandson,
+        "Penfield Butler."
+
+
+Colonel Butler looked up from the reading with moist eyes and glowing
+face, to find a dozen of his townsmen who knew that the letter had
+come, waiting to hear news from Pen.
+
+"On Independence Day," said the colonel, in answer to their inquiries,
+"he participated in a gallant and bloody assault on the enemy's lines,
+in which many trenches were taken. Save for superficial wounds, easily
+healed in the young and vigorous, he came out of the melée unscathed."
+
+"Good for him!" exclaimed one.
+
+"Bravo!" shouted another.
+
+"And, gentlemen," the colonel's voice rose and swelled moderately as
+he proceeded, "I am proud to say that, following that engagement, my
+grandson, for conspicuous bravery in action, was promoted to the rank
+of sergeant in the colonial troops of Great Britain."
+
+"Splendid!"
+
+"He's the boy!"
+
+"We're proud of him!"
+
+The colonel's eyes were flashing now; his head was erect, his one hand
+was thrust into the bosom of his waistcoat.
+
+"I thank you, gentlemen!" he said, "on behalf of my grandson. To pass
+inherited patriotism from father to son, from generation to
+generation, and to see it find its perfect fulfillment in the latest
+scion of the race, is to live in the golden age, gentlemen, and to
+partake of the fountain of youth."
+
+His voice quavered a little at the end, and he waited for a moment to
+recover it, and possibly to give his eloquence an opportunity to sink
+in more deeply, and then he continued:
+
+"I regret to say, gentlemen, that in the fierce engagement of the
+fourth instant, my grandson's gallant comrade, Master Alexander Sands,
+was severely wounded both in the shoulder and the knee, and is now
+somewhere in a hospital in northern France, well back of the lines,
+recuperating from his injuries. I shall communicate this information
+at once to his parents, together with such encouragement as is
+contained in my grandson's letter."
+
+Proud as a king, he turned from the sympathetic group, entered his
+carriage and was driven toward Chestnut Valley.
+
+It was late in September when Aleck Sands came home. The family at
+Bannerhall, augmented within the last year by the addition of Colonel
+Butler's favorite niece, was seated at the supper table one evening
+when Elmer Cuddeback, now grown into a fine, stalwart youth, hurried
+in to announce the arrival.
+
+"I happened to be at the station when Aleck came," he said. "He looked
+like a skeleton and a ghost rolled into one. He couldn't walk at all,
+and he was just able to talk. But he said he'd been having a fine time
+and was feeling bully. Isn't that nerve for you?"
+
+"Splendid!" exclaimed the colonel, holding his napkin high in the air
+in his excitement. "A marvelous young man! I shall do myself the honor
+to call on him in person to-morrow morning, and compliment him on his
+bravery, and congratulate him on his escape from mortal injury."
+
+He was as good as his word. He and his daughter both went down to
+Cherry Valley and called on Aleck Sands. He was lying propped up in
+bed, attended by a thankful and devoted mother, trying to give rest to
+a tired and irritated body, and to enjoy once more the sights and
+sounds of home. He was too weak to do much talking, but almost his
+first words were an anxious inquiry about Pen. They told him what they
+knew.
+
+"He came to see me at the hospital in August," said Aleck. "It was
+like a breeze from heaven. If he doesn't come back here alive and well
+at the end of this war, with the Victoria Cross on his breast, I shall
+be ashamed to go out on the street; he is so much the braver soldier
+and the better man of the two of us."
+
+"He has written to us," said the colonel, and his eyes were moist, and
+his voice choked a little as he spoke, "that you, yourself, in the
+matter of courage in battle, upheld the best traditions of American
+bravery, and I am proud of you, sir, as are all of your townsmen."
+
+The colonel would have remained to listen to further commendation of
+his grandson, and to discuss with one who had actually been on the
+fighting line, the conditions under which the war was being waged;
+but his daughter, seeing that the boy needed rest, brought the visit
+to a speedy close.
+
+"Give my love to Pen when you write to him," said Aleck, as he bade
+them good-by; "the bravest soldier--and the dearest comrade--that ever
+carried a gun."
+
+After the winter holidays a week went by with no letter from Pen. The
+colonel began to grow anxious, but it was not until the end of the
+second week that he really became alarmed. And when three weeks had
+gone by, and neither the mails nor the cable nor the wireless had
+brought any news of the absent soldier, Colonel Butler was on the
+verge of despair. He had haunted the post-office as before, he had
+made inquiry at the state department at Washington, he had telegraphed
+to Canada for information, but nothing came of it all. Aleck Sands had
+heard absolutely nothing. Pen's mother, almost beside herself,
+telephoned every day to Bannerhall for news, and received none. The
+strain of apprehensive waiting became almost unbearable for them all.
+
+One day, unable longer to withstand the heart-breaking tension, the
+old patriot sent an agent post-haste to Toronto, with instructions to
+spare no effort and no expense in finding out what had become of his
+grandson.
+
+Three days later, from his agent came a telegram reading as follows:
+
+    "Lieutenant Butler in hospital near Rouen. Wound severe. Suffering
+    now from pneumonia. Condition serious but still hopeful. Details
+    by letter."
+
+This telegram was received at Bannerhall in the morning. In the early
+afternoon of the same day Pen's mother received a letter written three
+weeks earlier by his nurse at the hospital. She was an American girl
+who had been long in France, and who, from the beginning of the war,
+had given herself whole-heartedly to the work at the hospitals.
+
+    "Do not be unduly alarmed," she wrote, "he is severely wounded;
+    evidently a hand-grenade exploded against his breast; but if we
+    are able to ward off pneumonia he will recover. He has given me
+    your name and address, and wished me to write. I think an early
+    and cheerful letter from you would be a great comfort to him, and
+    I hope he will be able to appreciate some gifts and dainties from
+    home by the time they could reach here. Let me add that he is a
+    model patient, quiet and uncomplaining, and I am told that he was
+    among the bravest of all the brave Americans fighting with the
+    Canadian forces on the Somme."
+
+Between Bannerhall and Sarah Butler's home at Lowbridge the telephone
+lines were busy that day. It was a relief to all of them to know that
+Pen was living and being cared for; it was a source of apprehension
+and grief to them that his condition, as intimated in the telegram,
+was still so critical.
+
+As for Colonel Butler he was in a fever of excitement and distress.
+Late in the afternoon he went to his room and, with his one hand,
+began, hastily and confusedly, to pack a small steamer trunk. His
+daughter found him so occupied.
+
+"What in the world are you doing?" she asked him.
+
+"I am preparing to go to Rouen," he replied, "to see that my grandson
+is cared for in his illness in a manner due to one who has placed his
+life in jeopardy for France."
+
+"Father, stand up! Look at me! Listen to me!" The very essence of
+determination was in her voice and manner, and he obeyed her. "You are
+not to stir one step from this town. Sarah Butler and I are going to
+France to be with Pen; we have talked it over and decided on it; and
+you are going to stay right here at Bannerhall, where you can be of
+supreme service to us, instead of burdening us with your company."
+
+He looked at her steadily for a moment, but he saw only rigid
+resolution and determination in her eyes; he was too unstrung and
+broken to protest, or to insist on his right as head of the house, and
+so--he yielded. Later in the day, however, a compromise was effected.
+It was agreed that he should accompany his daughter and his
+daughter-in-law to New York, aid them in securing passage, passports
+and credentials, and see them safely aboard ship for their perilous
+journey, after which he was to return home and spend the time quietly
+with his niece Eleanor, and make necessary preparations for the
+return of the invalid, later on, to Bannerhall.
+
+He carried out his part of the New York program in good faith, and had
+the satisfaction, three days later, of bidding the two women good-by
+on the deck of a French liner bound for Havre. He had no apprehension
+concerning the fitness of his daughter to go abroad unaccompanied save
+by her sister-in-law. She had been with him on three separate trips to
+the continent, and, in his judgment, for a woman, she had displayed
+marked traveling ability. His only fear was of German submarines.
+
+"A most cowardly, dastardly, uncivilized way," he declared, "of waging
+war upon an enemy's women and children."
+
+He was in good spirits as the vessel sailed. His parting words to his
+daughter were:
+
+"If you should have occasion to discuss with our friends in France the
+attitude of this nation toward the war, you may say that it is my
+opinion that the conscience of the country is now awake, and that
+before long we shall be shoulder to shoulder with them in the
+destruction of barbarism."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+For twenty-five years there has stood, in one of the faubourgs of
+Rouen, not far from the right bank of the Seine, a long two-story
+brick building, with a wing reaching back to the base of the hill. Up
+to the year 1915 it was used as a factory for the making of silk
+ribbons. Rouen had been a center of the cotton manufacturing industry
+from time immemorial. Why therefore should not the making of silk be
+added? It was added, and the enterprise grew and became prosperous.
+Then came the war, vast, terrible, bringing in its train suffering,
+poverty, a drastic curtailment of all the luxuries of life. Silk
+ribbons are a luxury; they go with soft living. So, then; _voilà
+tout!_ Before the end of the first year of the conflict the factory
+was transformed into a hospital. The clatter of looms and the chatter
+of girls gave place to the moanings of sick and wounded men, and the
+gentle voices of white and blue clad nurses. It was no longer bales
+of raw silk that were carted up to the big doors of the factory, and
+boxes of rolled ribbon that were trundled down the drive to the
+street, to the warehouses, and thence to the admiring eyes of
+beauty-loving women. The human freight that was brought to the big
+doors in these days consisted of the pierced and mutilated bodies of
+men; soldiers for whom the final taps would soon sound. If they
+chanced to be of the British troops, and held fast to the spark of
+life within them, then they were close enough to the seaport to be
+taken across the channel for final convalescence under English skies.
+
+It was to this hospital that Lieutenant Penfield Butler was brought
+from the battlefield of the Somme. His battalion had done the work
+assigned to it in the fight, had done it well, and had withdrawn to
+its trenches, leaving a third of its men dead or wounded between the
+lines. Later on, under cover of a galling artillery fire, rescue
+parties had gone out to bring in the wounded. They had found Pen in
+the shelter of the shell-hole, still unconscious. They had brought him
+back across the fire-swept field, and down through the winding,
+narrow trenches, to the first-aid station, from which, after a hurried
+examination and superficial treatment of his wounds, he was taken in a
+guard-car to a field hospital in the rear of the lines. But space in
+these field hospitals is too precious to permit of wounded men who can
+be moved without fatal results, remaining in them for long periods.
+The stream of newcomers is too constant and too pressing. So, after
+five days, Pen was sent, by way of Amiens, to the hospital in the
+suburbs of Rouen. He, himself, knew little of where he was or of what
+was being done for him. A bullet had grazed his right arm, and a
+clubbed musket or revolver had laid his scalp open to the bone. But
+these were slight injuries in comparison with the awful wound in his
+breast. Torn flesh, shattered bones, pierced lungs, these things left
+life hanging by the slenderest thread. When the _médecin-chef_ of the
+hospital near Rouen took his first look at the boy after his arrival,
+he had him put under the influence of an anaesthetic in order that he
+could the more readily and effectively examine, probe and dress the
+wound, and remove any irritating splinters of bone that might be the
+cause of the continuous leakage from the lungs. But when he had
+finished his delicate and strenuous task he turned to the nurse at his
+side and gave a hopeless shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders.
+
+"_Fichu!_" he said; "_le laisser tranquille_."
+
+"But I am not going to let him die," she replied; "he is too young,
+too handsome, too brave, and _he is an American_."
+
+He smiled, shook his head again and passed on to the next case. The
+girl was an American too, and these American nurses were always so
+optimistic, so faithfully persistent, she might pull him through,
+but--the smile of incredulity still lay on the lips of the
+_médecin-chef_.
+
+The next day the young soldier was better. The leakage had not yet
+wholly ceased; but the wound was apparently beginning to heal. He was
+still dazed, and his pain was still too severe to be endured without
+opiates. It was five days later that he came fully to his senses, was
+able to articulate, and to frame intelligent sentences. He indicated
+to his nurse, Miss Byron, that he wished to have his mother written
+to.
+
+"No especial message," he whispered, "just that I am here--have been
+wounded--recovering."
+
+But the nurse had already learned from other men of Pen's company,
+less seriously wounded than he, who were at the same hospital,
+something about the boy's desperate bravery, and how his stern
+fighting qualities were combined with great tenderness of heart and a
+most loving disposition, and she could not avoid putting an echo of it
+in her letter to his mother.
+
+Later on Pen developed symptoms of pneumonia, a disease that follows
+so often on an injury to the structure of the lungs.
+
+When the _médecin-chef_ came and noted the increase in temperature and
+the decrease in vitality, he looked grave. Every day, with true French
+courtesy, he had congratulated Miss Byron on her remarkable success in
+nursing the young American back to life. But now, perhaps, after all,
+the efforts of both of them would be wasted. Pneumonia is a hard foe
+to fight when it attacks wounded lungs. So an English physician was
+called in and joined with the French surgeon and the American nurse to
+combat the dreaded enemy. It seemed, somehow, as if each of them felt
+that the honor of his or her country was at stake in this battle with
+disease and death across that hospital bed in the old factory near
+Rouen.
+
+It was late in February when Pen's mother and his Aunt Millicent
+reached Havre, and took the next available train up to Rouen. They had
+not heard from Pen since sailing, and they were almost beside
+themselves with anxiety and apprehension. But the telephone service
+between the city and its faubourgs is excellent, Aunt Millicent could
+speak French with comparative fluency, and it was not many minutes
+after their arrival before they had obtained connection with the
+hospital and were talking with Miss Byron.
+
+"He is very ill," she said, "but we feel that the crisis of his
+disease has passed, and we hope for his recovery."
+
+So, then, he was still living, and there was hope. In the early
+twilight of the winter evening the two women rode out to the suburban
+town and went up to the hospital to see him. He did not open his eyes,
+nor recognize them in any way, he did not even know that they were
+with him.
+
+"There have been many complications of the illness from his wound,"
+said the nurse; "double pneumonia, typhoid symptoms, and what not; we
+dared not hope for him for a while, but we feel now that perhaps the
+worst is over. He has made a splendid fight for his life," she added;
+"he deserves to win. And he is the favorite of the hospital. Every one
+loves him. The first question all my patients ask me when I make my
+first round for the day is 'How is the young American lieutenant this
+morning?' Oh, if good wishes and genuine affection can keep him with
+us, he will stay."
+
+So, with tear-wet faces, grateful yet still anxious, the two women
+left him for the night and sought hospitality at a modest _pension_ in
+the neighborhood of the hospital.
+
+But a precious life still hung in the balance. As he had lain for many
+days, so the young soldier continued to lie, for many days to come,
+apparently without thought or vitality, save that those who watched
+him could catch now and then a low murmur from his lips, and could see
+the faint rise and fall of his scarred and bandaged breast.
+
+Then, so slowly that it seemed to those who looked lovingly on that
+ages were going by, he began definitely to mend. He could open his
+eyes, and move his head and hands, and he seemed to grasp, by degrees,
+the fact that his mother and his Aunt Millicent were often sitting at
+his bedside. But when he tried to speak his tongue would not obey his
+will.
+
+One day, when he awakened from a refreshing sleep, he seemed brighter
+and stronger than he had been at any time before. The two women whom
+he most loved were sitting on opposite sides of his cot, and his
+devoted and delighted nurse stood near by, smiling down on him. He
+smiled back up at each of them in turn, but he made no attempt to
+speak. He seemed to know that he had not yet the power of
+articulation.
+
+His cot, in an alcove at the end of the main aisle, was so placed
+that, when the curtains were drawn aside, he could, at will, look
+down the long rows of beds where once the looms had clattered, and
+watch wan faces, and recumbent forms under the white spreads, and
+nurses, some garbed in white, and some in blue, and some in more sober
+colors, moving gently about among the sufferers in performance of
+their thrice-blest and most angelic tasks. It was there that he was
+looking now, and the two women at his bedside who were watching him,
+saw that his eyes were fixed, with strange intensity, on some object
+in the distance. They turned to see what it was. To their utter
+astonishment and dismay they discovered, marching up the aisle,
+accompanied by an _infirmière_, Colonel Richard Butler. Whence, when,
+and how he had come, they knew not. He stopped at the entrance to the
+alcove, and held up his hand as though demanding silence. And there
+was silence. No one spoke or stirred. He looked down at Pen who lay,
+still speechless, staring up at him in surprise and delight.
+
+Into the colonel's glowing face there came a look of tenderness, of
+rapt sympathy, of exultant pride, that those who saw it will never
+forget.
+
+He stepped lightly forward and took Pen's limp hand in his and pressed
+it gently.
+
+"God bless you, my boy!" he said.
+
+No one had ever heard Richard Butler say "God bless you" before, and
+no one ever heard him say it again. But when he said it that day to
+the dark-haired, white faced, war-worn soldier on the cot in the
+hospital near Rouen, the words came straight from a big, and brave,
+and tender heart.
+
+He laid Pen's hand slowly back on the counterpane, and then he parted
+his white moustache, as he had done that night at the hotel in New
+York, and bent over and kissed the boy's forehead. It may have been
+the rapture of the kiss that did it; God knows; but at that moment
+Pen's tongue was loosened, his lips parted, and he cried out:
+
+"Grandfather!"
+
+With a judgment and a self-denial rare among men, the colonel answered
+the boy's greeting with another gentle hand-clasp, and a beneficent
+smile, and turned and marched proudly and gratefully back down the
+long aisle, stopping here and there to greet some sick soldier who had
+given him a friendly look or smile, until he stood in the open doorway
+and lifted up his eyes to gaze on the blue line of distant hills
+across the Seine.
+
+Later, when the two women came to him, and he went with them to the
+_pension_ where they were staying, he explained to them the cause of
+his sudden and unheralded appearance. He had received their cablegrams
+indeed; but these, instead of serving to allay his anxiety, had made
+it only the more acute. To wait now for letters was impossible. His
+patience was utterly exhausted. He could no more have remained quietly
+at home than he could have shut up his eyes and ears and mouth and
+lain quietly down to die. The call that came to him from the bed of
+his beloved grandson in France, that sounded in his ears day-time and
+night-time as he paced the floors of Bannerhall, was too insistent and
+imperious to be resisted. Against the vigorous protests of his niece,
+and the timid remonstrances of the few friends who were made aware of
+his purpose, he put himself in readiness to sail on the next
+out-going steamer that would carry him to his longed-for destination.
+And it was only after he had boarded the vessel, and had felt the slow
+movement of the ship as she was warped out into the stream, that he
+became contented, comfortable, thoroughly at ease in body and mind,
+and ready to await patiently whatever might come to him at the end of
+his journey.
+
+So it was in good health and spirits that he landed at Havre, came up
+to Rouen, and made his way to the hospital.
+
+And for once in her life his daughter did not chide him. Instinctively
+she felt the power of the great tenderness and yearning in his breast
+that had impelled him to come, and, so far as any word of disapproval
+was concerned, she was silent.
+
+He talked much about Pen. He asked what they had learned concerning
+his bravery in battle, the manner in which he had received his wounds,
+the nature of his long illness, and the probability of his continued
+convalescence.
+
+"I hope," said Pen's mother, "that I shall be able to take him back
+to Lowbridge next month."
+
+The old man looked up in surprise and alarm.
+
+"To Lowbridge?" he said, and added: "Not to Lowbridge, Sarah Butler.
+My grandson will return to Bannerhall, the home of his ancestors."
+
+"Colonel Butler, my son's home is with me."
+
+"And your home," replied the colonel, "is with me. My son's widow must
+no longer live under any other roof than mine. The day of estrangement
+has fully passed. You will find welcome and affection, and, I hope, an
+abundance of happiness at Bannerhall."
+
+She did not answer him; she could not. Nor did he demand an answer. He
+seemed to take it for granted that his wish in the matter would be
+complied with, and his will obeyed. But it was not until his daughter
+Millicent, by much argument and persuasion, through many days, had
+convinced her that her place was with them, that her son's welfare and
+his grandfather's length of days depended on both mother and son
+complying with Colonel Butler's wish and demand, that she consented
+to blot out the past and to go to live at Bannerhall.
+
+It was on the second day of April, 1917, that the President of the
+United States read his world famous message to Congress, asking that
+body to "declare the recent course of the Imperial German Government
+to be in fact nothing less than war against the Government and people
+of the United States" and to "employ all of its resources to bring the
+Government of Germany to terms and to end the war."
+
+And it was on the third day of April that Colonel Richard Butler,
+walking up the long aisle of the war hospital near Rouen in the late
+afternoon, smiled and nodded to right and left and said:
+
+"At last we are with you; we are with you. America has answered the
+call of her conscience, she will now come into her own."
+
+And they smiled back at him, did these worn and broken men, for the
+news of the President's declaration had already filtered through the
+wards; and they waved their hands to the brave American colonel with
+the white moustache, stern visage, and tender heart, and in sturdy
+English and voluble French and musical Italian, they congratulated him
+and his noble grandson, and the charming ladies of his family, on the
+splendid words of his President, to which words the patriotic Congress
+would surely respond.
+
+And Congress did respond. The Senate on April 4, and the House on
+April 6, by overwhelming majorities, passed a resolution in full
+accordance with the President's recommendation, declaring that a state
+of war had been thrust upon the United States by the German
+government, and authorizing and directing the President "to employ the
+entire naval and military forces of the United States, and the
+resources of the government, to carry on war against the Imperial
+German government."
+
+Colonel Richard Butler was at last content.
+
+"I am proud of my country," he declared, "and of my President and
+Congress. I have cabled the congressman from my district to tender my
+congratulations to Mr. Wilson, and to offer my services anew in
+whatever capacity my government can use them."
+
+If he had favored the Allied cause before going abroad he was now
+thrice the partisan that he had been. For he had seen France. He had
+seen her, bled white in her heroic endeavor to drive the invader from
+her soil. He had seen her ruined homes, and cities, and temples of
+art. He had seen her women and her aged fathers and her young children
+doing the work of her able-bodied men who were on the fighting line,
+replacing those hundreds of thousands who were lying in heroes'
+graves. He had been, by special favor, taken to the front, where he
+had seen the still grimmer visage of war, had caught a glimpse of life
+in the trenches, of death on the field, and had heard the sweep and
+the rattle and the roar of unceasing conflict. And in his eyes and
+voice as he walked up and down the aisles of the hospital near Rouen,
+or sat at the bedside of his grandson, was always a reflection of
+these things that he himself had seen and heard.
+
+And he was a favorite in the wards. Not alone because he so often came
+with his one arm laden with little material things to cheer and
+comfort them, but because these men with the pierced and broken and
+mutilated bodies admired and liked him. Whenever they saw the familiar
+figure, tall, soldierly, the sternly benevolent countenance with its
+white moustache and kindling eyes, enter at the hospital doors and
+walk up between the long rows of cots, their faces would light up with
+pleasure and admiration, and the friendliness of their greetings would
+be hearty and unalloyed.
+
+Somehow they seemed to look upon him as the symbol and representative
+of his country, the very embodiment of the spirit of his own United
+States. And now that his government had definitely entered into the
+war, he was in their eyes, thrice the hero and the benefactor that he
+had been before.
+
+When he entered the hospital the morning after news of America's war
+declaration had been received, and turned to march up the aisle toward
+his grandson's alcove, he was surprised and delighted to see from
+every cot in the ward, and from every nurse on the floor, a hand
+thrust up holding a tiny American flag. It was the hospital's greeting
+to the American colonel, in honor of his country. He stood, for a
+moment, thrilled and amazed. The demonstration struck so deeply into
+his big and patriotic heart that his voice choked and his eyes filled
+with tears as he passed up the long aisle.
+
+There were many greetings as he went by.
+
+"Hurrah for the President!"
+
+"Vive l'Amerique!"
+
+And one deep-throated Briton, in a voice that rolled from end to end
+of the ward shouted:
+
+"God bless the United States!"
+
+[Illustration: The French Hospital's Greeting To the American Colonel]
+
+But perhaps no one was more rejoiced over the fact of America's
+entrance into the war than was Penfield Butler. From the moment when
+he heard the news of the President's message he seemed to take on new
+life. And as each day's paper recorded the developing movements, and
+the almost universal sentiment of the American people in sustaining
+the government at Washington, his pulses thrilled, color came into his
+blanched face, and new light into eyes that not long before had looked
+for many weeks at material things and had seen them not.
+
+He was sitting up in his bed that morning, and had seen his
+grandfather come up the aisle amid the forest of little flags and the
+sound of cheering voices.
+
+Grouped around him were' his mother, his Aunt Millicent, the
+_médecin-chef_, and his devoted nurse, the American girl, Miss Byron.
+She was waving a small, silk American flag that had long been one of
+her cherished possessions.
+
+"We are so proud of America to-day, Colonel Butler," she exclaimed,
+"that we can't help cheering and waving flags."
+
+And the _médecin-chef_ shouted joyously:
+
+"_À la bonne heure, mon Colonel!_"
+
+Pen, looking on with glowing eyes and cheeks flushed with enthusiasm,
+called out:
+
+"Grandfather, isn't it glorious? If I could only fight it all over
+again, now, under my own American flag!"
+
+Colonel Butler's face had never before been so radiant, his eyes so
+tender, or his voice so vibrant with emotion as when standing on the
+raised edge of the alcove, he replied:
+
+"On behalf of my beloved country, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you.
+She has taken her rightful place on the side of humanity. Her flag,
+splendid and spotless, floats, to-day, side by side with the tri-color
+and the Union Jack, over the manhood of nations united to save the
+world from bondage and barbarism."
+
+He faced the _médecin-chef_ and continued: "Your cry to us to 'come
+over into Macedonia and help' you, shall no longer go unheeded. Our
+wealth, our brains, our brawn shall be poured into your country as
+freely as water, to aid you in bringing the German tyrant to his
+knees, and, as our great President has said: 'To make the world safe
+for democracy.'"
+
+He turned toward the rapt faces of the listening scores who lined the
+wards: "And men, my brothers, I say to you that you have not fought
+and suffered in vain. We shall win this war; and out of our great
+victory shall come that thousand years of peace foretold by holy men
+of old, in which your flag, and yours, and yours, and mine, floating
+over the heads of freemen in each beloved land, will be the most
+inspiring, the most beautiful, the most splendid thing on which the
+sun's rays shall ever fall."
+
+
+
+
+Short Historical Sketch of the United States Flag
+
+
+After the war of the Revolution, it became necessary for the newly
+formed United States of America to devise a symbol, representing their
+freedom. During the war the different colonies had displayed various
+flags, but no national emblem had been selected. The American
+Congress, consequently, on the 14th of June, 1777, passed the
+following Resolution:
+
+    "Resolved, That the flag of the thirteen united states shall be
+    thirteen stripes, alternate red and white, that the union be
+    thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new
+    constellation."
+
+Betsy Ross, an upholsterer, living at 239 Arch Street, Philadelphia,
+Pa., had the honor of making the first flag for the new republic. The
+little house where she lived is still standing, and preserved as a
+memorial. This flag contained the thirteen stripes as at present, but
+the stars were arranged in a circle. This arrangement was later
+changed to horizontal lines, and the flag continued to have thirteen
+stars and thirteen stripes until 1795. When Vermont and Kentucky were
+added to the Union, two more stripes, as well as two more stars, were
+added. In 1817, it was seen that it would not be practicable to add a
+new stripe for each new state admitted to the Union, so after
+deliberation, Congress, in 1818, passed the following Act:
+
+    "An Act to establish the flag of the United States.
+
+    "Sec. 1. That from and after the 4th of July next, the flag of the
+    United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and
+    white--that the Union have twenty stars, white in a blue field.
+
+    "Sec. 2. Be it further enacted, that on the admission of every new
+    State into the Union, one star be added to the Union of the flag,
+    and that such addition shall take effect on the 4th of July next
+    succeeding such admission."
+
+Since the passing of this Act, star after star has been added to the
+blue field until it now contains forty-eight, each one representing a
+staunch and loyal adherent.
+
+
+
+
+Boy Scouts Pledge to the Flag
+
+
+"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the Republic for which it
+stands; one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag, by Homer Greene
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG ***
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag, by Homer Greene
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Flag
+
+Author: Homer Greene
+
+Release Date: April 26, 2008 [EBook #25188]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Chris Logan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 341px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="341" height="500" alt="Book Cover" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+
+
+
+<h1><span class="title_book">The Flag</span><br /> <br />
+<span class="title_by">By</span><br /> <br />
+<span class="title_author">HOMER GREENE</span></h1>
+
+<p class="title_author_of">Author of<br />
+"The Unhallowed Harvest,"<br />
+"Pickett's Gap," "The Blind Brother," etc.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/logo.png" width="150" height="147" alt="Publishers Logo" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="title_publisher">PHILADELPHIA<br />
+<span class="title_pub_name">GEORGE W. JACOBS &amp; CO</span><br />
+PUBLISHERS</p>
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+
+
+<p class="copyright">Copyright, 1917<br />
+George W. Jacobs &amp; Company</p>
+
+<p class="rights_reserved">All rights reserved<br />
+Printed in U. S. A.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 368px;"><a name="Illustration_He_Glared_Defiantly_About_Him" id="Illustration_He_Glared_Defiantly_About_Him"></a>
+<img src="images/glared.jpg" width="368" height="500" alt="He Glared Defiantly About Him" title="He Glared Defiantly About Him" />
+<span class="caption">He Glared Defiantly About Him</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+
+
+
+<h2>List of Illustrations</h2>
+
+<table summary="List Of Illustrations">
+<tbody>
+<tr>
+  <td class="loi_item">He Glared Defiantly About Him</td>
+  <td class="loi_page"><a href="#Illustration_He_Glared_Defiantly_About_Him">Frontispiece</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="loi_item">Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up, But Failed to Find the Place</td>
+  <td class="loi_page">Facing <a href="#Illustration_Upside_Down">p. 54</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="loi_item">Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of His Brave Platoon</td>
+  <td class="loi_page">"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#Illustration_Face_Of_Death">274</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="loi_item">The French Hospital's Greeting to the American Colonel</td>
+  <td class="loi_page">"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#Illustration_Hospital">316</a></td>
+</tr>
+</tbody>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE FLAG</h2>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I</h3>
+
+
+<p>Snow everywhere; freshly fallen, white and beautiful. It lay unsullied
+on the village roofs, and, trampled but not yet soiled, in the village
+streets. The spruce trees on the lawn at Bannerhall were weighted with
+it, and on the lawn itself it rested, like an ermine blanket, soft and
+satisfying. Down the steps of the porch that stretched across the
+front of the mansion, a boy ran, whistling, to the street.</p>
+
+<p>He was slender and wiry, agile and sure-footed. He had barely reached
+the gate when the front door of the square, stately old brick house
+was opened and a woman came out on the porch and called to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Pen!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Aunt Millicent." He turned to listen to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Pen, don't forget that your grandfather's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> going to New York on the
+five-ten train, and that you are to be at the station to see him off."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't forget, auntie."</p>
+
+<p>"And then come straight home."</p>
+
+<p>"Straight as a string, Aunt Milly."</p>
+
+<p>"All right! Good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>He passed through the gate, and down the street toward the center of
+the village. It was the noon recess and he was on his way back to
+school where he must report at one-fifteen sharp. He had an abundance
+of time, however, and he stopped in front of the post-office to talk
+with another boy about the coasting on Drake's Hill. It was while he
+was standing there that some one called to him from the street. Seated
+in an old-fashioned cutter drawn by an old gray horse were an old man
+and a young woman. The woman's face flushed and brightened, and her
+eyes shone with gladness, as Pen leaped from the sidewalk and ran
+toward her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mother!" he cried. "I didn't expect to see you. Are you in for a
+sleigh-ride?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>She bent over and kissed him and patted his cheek before she replied,</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dearie. Grandpa had to come to town; and it's so beautiful after
+the snow that I begged to come along."</p>
+
+<p>Then the old man, round-faced and rosy, with a fringe of gray whiskers
+under his chin, and a green and red comforter about his neck, reached
+out a mittened hand and shook hands with Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't keep her to hum," he said, "when she seen me hitchin' up old
+Charlie."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed good-naturedly and tucked the buffalo-robe in under him.</p>
+
+<p>"How's grandma?" asked Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Jest about as usual," was the reply. "When you comin' out to see us?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. Maybe a week from Saturday. I'll see."</p>
+
+<p>Then Pen's mother spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"You were going to school, weren't you? We won't keep you. Give my
+love to Aunt Millicent; and come soon to see us."</p>
+
+<p>She kissed him again; the old man clicked to his horse, and succeeded,
+after some effort, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> starting him, and Pen returned to the sidewalk
+and resumed his journey toward school.</p>
+
+<p>It was noticeable that no one had spoken of Colonel Butler, the
+grandfather with whom Pen lived at Bannerhall on the main street of
+Chestnut Hill. There was a reason for that. Colonel Butler was Pen's
+paternal grandfather; and Colonel Butler's son had married contrary to
+his father's wish. When, a few years later, the son died, leaving a
+widow and an only child, Penfield, the colonel had so far relented as
+to offer a home to his grandson, and to provide an annuity for the
+widow. She declined the annuity for herself, but accepted the offer of
+a home for her son. She knew that it would be a home where, in charge
+of his aunt Millicent, her boy would receive every advantage of care,
+education and culture. So she kissed him good-by and left him there,
+and she herself, ill, penniless and wretched, went back to live with
+her father on the little farm at Cobb's Corners, five miles away. But
+all that was ten years before, and Pen was now fourteen. That he had
+been well cared for was manifest in his clothing, his countenance,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>
+his bearing and his whole demeanor as he hurried along the partly
+swept pavement toward his destination.</p>
+
+<p>A few blocks farther on he overtook a school-fellow, and, as they
+walked together, they discussed the war.</p>
+
+<p>For war had been declared. It had not only been declared, it was in
+actual progress.</p>
+
+<p>Equipped and generalled, stubborn and aggressive, the opposing forces
+had faced each other for weeks. Yet it had not been a sanguinary
+conflict. Aside from a few bruised shins and torn coats and missing
+caps, there had been no casualties worth mentioning. It was not a
+country-wide war. It was, indeed, a war of which no history save this
+veracious chronicle, gives any record.</p>
+
+<p>The contending armies were composed of boys. And the boys were
+residents, respectively, of the Hill and the Valley; two villages,
+united under the original name of Chestnut Hill, and so closely joined
+together that it would have been impossible for a stranger to tell
+where one ended and the other began. The Hill, back on the plateau,
+had the ad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>vantage of age and the prestige that wealth gives. The
+Valley, established down on the river bank when the railroad was built
+through, had the benefit of youth and the virtue of aggressiveness.
+Yet they were mutually interdependent. One could not have prospered
+without the aid of the other. When the new graded-school building was
+erected, it was located on the brow of the hill in order to
+accommodate pupils from both villages. From that time the boys who
+lived on the hill were called Hilltops, and those who lived in the
+valley were called Riverbeds. Just when the trouble began, or what was
+the specific cause of it, no one seemed exactly to know. Like Topsy,
+it simply grew. With the first snow of the winter came the first
+physical clash between the opposing forces of Hilltops and Riverbeds.
+It was a mild enough encounter, but it served to whet the appetites of
+the young combatants for more serious warfare. Miss Grey, the
+principal of the school, was troubled and apprehensive. She had
+encouraged a friendly rivalry between the two sets of boys in matters
+of intellectual achievement, but she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> greatly deprecated such a state
+of hostility as would give rise to harsh feelings or physical
+violence. She knew that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to
+coerce them into peace and harmony, so she set about to contrive some
+method by which the mutual interest of the boys could be aroused and
+blended toward the accomplishment of a common object.</p>
+
+<p>The procuring of an American flag for the use of the school had long
+been talked of, and it occurred to her now that if she could stimulate
+a friendly rivalry among her pupils, in an effort to obtain funds for
+the purchase of a flag, it might divert their minds from thoughts of
+hostility to each other, into channels where a laudable competition
+would be provocative of harmony. So she decided, after consultation
+with the two grade teachers, to prepare two subscription blanks, each
+with its proper heading, and place them respectively in the hands of
+Penfield Butler captain of the Hilltops, and Alexander Sands commander
+of the Riverbeds. The other pupils would be instructed to fall in
+behind these leaders and see which party could obtain, not necessarily
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> most money, but the largest number of subscriptions. She felt
+that interest in the flag would be aroused by the numbers contributing
+rather than by the amount contributed. It was during the session of
+the school that afternoon that she made the announcement of her plan,
+and delivered the subscription papers to the two captains. She aroused
+much enthusiasm by the little speech she made, dwelling on the beauty
+and symbolism of the flag, and the patriotic impulse that would be
+aroused and strengthened by having it always in sight.</p>
+
+<p>No one questioned the fact that Pen Butler was the leader of the
+Hilltops, nor did any one question the similar fact that Aleck Sands
+was the leader of the Riverbeds. There had never been any election or
+appointment, to be sure, but, by common consent and natural selection,
+these two had been chosen in the beginning as commanders of the
+separate hosts.</p>
+
+<p>When, therefore, the subscription blanks were put into the hands of
+these boys as leaders, every one felt that nothing would be left
+undone by either to win fame and honor for his party in the matter of
+the flag.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>So, when the afternoon session of school closed, every one had
+forgotten, for the time being at least, the old rivalry, and was ready
+to enlist heartily in the new one.</p>
+
+<p>There was fine coasting that day on Drake's Hill. The surface of the
+road-bed, hard and smooth, had been worn through in patches, but the
+snow-fall of the night before had so dressed it over as to make it
+quite perfect for this exhilarating winter sport.</p>
+
+<p>As he left the school-house Pen looked at his watch, a gift from his
+grandfather Butler on his last birthday, and found that he would have
+more than half an hour in which to enjoy himself at coasting before it
+would be necessary to start for the railroad station to see Colonel
+Butler off on the train. So, with his companions, he went to Drake's
+Hill. It was fine sport indeed. The bobs had never before descended so
+swiftly nor covered so long a stretch beyond the incline. But, no
+matter how fascinating the sport, Pen kept his engagement in mind and
+intended to leave the hill in plenty of time to meet it. There were
+especial reasons this day why he should do so. In the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> first place
+Colonel Butler would be away from home for nearly a week, and it had
+always been Pen's custom to see his grandfather off on a journey, even
+though he were to be gone but a day. And in the next place he wanted
+to be sure to get Colonel Butler's name at the head of his flag
+subscription list. This would doubtless be the most important
+contribution to be made to the fund.</p>
+
+<p>At half-past four he decided to take one more ride and then start for
+the station. But on that ride an accident occurred. The bobs on which
+the boys were seated collapsed midway of the descent, and threw the
+coasters into a heap in the ditch. None of them was seriously hurt,
+though the loose stones among which they were thrown were not
+sufficiently cushioned by the snow to prevent some bruises, and
+abrasions of the skin. Of course there was much confusion and
+excitement. There was scrambling, and rubbing of hurt places, and an
+immediate investigation into the cause of the wreck. In the midst of
+it all Pen forgot about his engagement. When the matter did recur to
+his mind he glanced at his watch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> and found that it lacked but twelve
+minutes of train time. It would be only by hard sprinting and rare
+good luck that he would be able to reach the station in time to see
+his grandfather off. Without a word of explanation to his fellows he
+started away on a keen run. They looked after him in open-mouthed
+wonder. They could not conceive what had happened to him. One boy
+suggested that he had been frightened out of his senses by the shock
+of the accident; and another that he had struck his head against a
+rock and had gone temporarily insane, and that he ought to be followed
+to see that he did no harm to himself. But no one offered to go on
+such a mission, and, after watching the runner out of sight, they
+turned their attention again to the wrecked bobs.</p>
+
+<p>Aleck Sands went straight from school to his home in the valley. There
+were afternoon chores to be done, and he was anxious to finish them as
+soon as possible in order that he might start out with his
+subscription paper.</p>
+
+<p>He did not hope to equal Pen in the amount of contributions, for he
+had no wealthy grandfather on whom to depend, but he did intend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> to
+excel him in the number of subscribers. And it was desirable that he
+should be early in the field.</p>
+
+<p>It was almost dusk when he started from home to go to the grist-mill
+of which his father was the proprietor. He wanted to get his father's
+signature first, both as a matter of policy and as a matter of filial
+courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>As he approached the railroad station, which it was necessary for him
+to pass on his way to the mill, he saw Colonel Butler pacing up and
+down the platform which faced the town, and, at every turn, looking
+anxiously up the street.</p>
+
+<p>It was evident that the colonel was waiting for the train, and it was
+just as evident that he was expecting some one, probably Pen, to come
+to the station to see him off. And Pen was nowhere in sight.</p>
+
+<p>A brilliant and daring thought entered Aleck's mind. While,
+ordinarily, he was neither brilliant nor daring, yet he was
+intelligent, quick and resourceful. He was always ready to meet an
+emergency. The idea that had taken such sudden possession of him was
+nothing more nor less than an impulse to so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>licit Colonel Butler for a
+subscription to the flag fund and thus forestall Pen. And why not? He
+knew of nothing to prevent. Pen had no exclusive right to
+subscriptions from the Hill, any more than he, Aleck, had to
+subscriptions from the Valley. And if he could be first to obtain a
+contribution from Colonel Butler, the most important citizen of
+Chestnut Hill, if not of the whole county, what plaudits would he not
+receive from his comrades of the Riverbeds?</p>
+
+<p>Having made up his mind he was not slow to act. He was already within
+fifty feet of the platform on which the gray-mustached and stern-faced
+veteran of the civil war was impatiently marching up and down. An
+empty sleeve was pinned to the breast of the old soldier's coat; but
+he stood erect, and his steps were measured with soldierly precision.
+He had stopped for a moment to look, with keener scrutiny, up the
+street which led to the station. Aleck stepped up on the platform and
+approached him.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening, Colonel Butler!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>The man turned and faced him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>"Good evening, sir!" he replied. "You have somewhat the advantage of
+me, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Aleck Sands," explained the boy. "My father has the
+grist-mill here. Miss Grey, she is our teacher at the graded school,
+and she gave me a paper&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>"A pupil at the graded school are you, sir? Do you chance to know a
+lad there by the name of Penfield Butler; and if you know him can you
+give me any information concerning his whereabouts this evening?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. I know him. After school he started for Drake's Hill with
+some other Hill boys to go a coasting."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Pleasure before duty. He was to have met me here prior to the
+leaving of the train. I have little patience, sir, with boys who
+neglect engagements to promote their own pleasures."</p>
+
+<p>He had such an air of severity as he said it, that Aleck was not sure
+whether, after all, he would dare to reapproach him on the subject of
+the subscription. But he plucked up courage and started in anew.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>"Our teacher, Miss Grey, gave me this paper to get subscriptions on
+for the new flag. I'd be awful glad if you'd give something toward
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" asked the man as he took the paper from Aleck's hand.
+"A flag for the school? And has the school no flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; not any."</p>
+
+<p>"The directors have been derelict in their duty, sir. They should have
+provided a flag on the erection of the building. No public school
+should be without an American flag. Let me see."</p>
+
+<p>He unhooked his eye-glasses from the breast of his waistcoat and put
+them on, shook out the paper dexterously with his one hand, and began
+to read it aloud.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"We, the undersigned, hereby agree to pay the sums set opposite
+our respective names, for the purpose of purchasing an American
+flag for the Chestnut Hill public school. All subscriptions to be
+payable to a collector hereafter to be appointed." </p></div>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler removed his glasses from his nose and stood for a
+moment in contemplation.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>"I approve of the project," he said at last. "Our youth should be made
+familiar with the sight of the flag. They should be taught to
+reverence it. They should learn of the gallant deeds of those who have
+fought for it through many great wars. I shall be glad to affix my
+name, sir, to the document, and to make a modest contribution. How
+large a fund is it proposed to raise?"</p>
+
+<p>Aleck stammered a little as he replied. He had not expected so ready a
+compliance with his request. And it was beginning to dawn on him that
+it might be good policy, as well as a matter of common fairness, to
+tell the colonel frankly that Pen also had been authorized to solicit
+subscriptions. There might indeed be such a thing as revoking a
+subscription made under a misleading representation, or a suppression
+of facts. And if that should happen&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Why," said Aleck, "why&mdash;Miss Grey said she thought we ought to get
+twenty-five dollars. We've got to get a pole too, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly you must have a staff, and a good one. Twenty-five dollars
+is not enough<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> money, young man. You should have forty dollars at
+least. Fifty would be better. I'll give half of that amount myself.
+There should be no skimping, no false economy, in a matter of such
+prime importance. I shall see Miss Grey about it personally when I
+return from New York. Kindly accompany me to the station-agent's
+office where I can procure pen and ink."</p>
+
+<p>Aleck knew that the revelation could be no longer delayed.</p>
+
+<p>"But," he stammered, "but, Colonel Butler, you know Pen's got one
+too."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel turned back again.</p>
+
+<p>"Got what?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, one of these, now, subscription papers."</p>
+
+<p>"Has he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler stood for a moment, apparently in deep thought. Then he
+looked out again from under his bushy eye-brows, searchingly, up the
+street. He took his watch from his pocket and glanced at it. After
+that he spoke.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>"Under normal conditions, sir, my grandson would have preference in a
+matter of this kind, and I am obliged to you for unselfishly making
+the suggestion. But, as he has failed to perform a certain duty toward
+me, I shall consider myself relieved, for the time being, of my duty
+of preference toward him. Kindly accompany me to the station-master's
+office."</p>
+
+<p>With Aleck in his wake he strode down the platform and across the
+waiting-room, among the people who had gathered to wait for or depart
+by the train, and spoke to the ticket-agent at the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you kindly permit me, sir, to use your table and pen and ink to
+sign a document of some importance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly!"</p>
+
+<p>The man at the window opened the door of the agent's room and bade the
+colonel and Aleck to enter. He pushed a chair up to the table and
+placed ink and pens within reach.</p>
+
+<p>"Help yourself, Colonel Butler," he said. "We're glad to accommodate
+you."</p>
+
+<p>But the colonel had barely seated himself be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>fore a new thought
+entered his mind. He pondered for a moment, and then swung around in
+the swivel-chair and faced the boy who stood waiting, cap in hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Young man," he said, "it just occurs to me that I can serve your
+school as well, and please myself better, by making a donation of the
+flag instead of subscribing to the fund. Does the idea meet with your
+approval?"</p>
+
+<p>The proposition came so unexpectedly, and the question so suddenly,
+that Aleck hardly knew how to respond.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, sir," he said hesitatingly, "I suppose so. You mean you'll
+give us the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I'll give you the flag. I am about starting for New York. I will
+purchase one while there. And in the spring I will provide a proper
+staff for it, in order that it may be flung to the breeze."</p>
+
+<p>By this time Aleck comprehended the colonel's plan.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," he exclaimed enthusiastically, "that'll be great! May I tell
+Miss Grey?"</p>
+
+<p>"You may be the sole bearer of my written offer to your respected
+teacher."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>He swung around to the table and picked up a pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Your teacher's given name is&mdash;?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," stammered Aleck, "it's&mdash;it's&mdash;why, her name's Miss Helen Grey."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel began to write rapidly on the blank page of the
+subscription paper.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<em>To Miss Helen Grey;</em><br />
+<span class="letter_indent_3">"<em>Principal of the Public School</em></span><br />
+<span class="letter_indent_6">"<em>Chestnut Hill.</em></span></p>
+
+<p>"<span class="letterto">My Dear Madam</span>:</p>
+
+<p>"I am informed by one of your pupils, Master&mdash;" </p></div>
+
+<p>He stopped long enough to ask the boy for his full name, and then
+continued to write&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Alexander McMurtrie Sands, that it is your patriotic purpose to
+procure an American flag for use in your school. With this purpose
+I am in hearty accord. It will therefore give me great pleasure,
+my dear madam, to procure for you at once, at my sole expense, and
+present to your school, an appropriate banner, to be followed in
+due season by a fitting staff. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> trust that my purpose and desire
+may commend themselves to you. I wish also that your pupil, the
+aforesaid Master Sands, shall have full credit for having so
+successfully called this matter to my attention; and to that end I
+make him sole bearer of this communication.</p>
+
+<p><span class="letter_indent_10">"I remain, my dear madam,</span><br />
+<span class="letter_indent_13">"Your obedient servant,</span><br />
+<span class="letter_indent_20">"<span class="personname">Richard Butler</span>."</span><br />
+<br />
+January 12th.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler read the letter over slowly aloud, folded the
+subscription paper on which it had been written, and handed it to
+Aleck.</p>
+
+<p>"There, young man," he said, "are your credentials, and my offer."</p>
+
+<p>The shrieking whistle had already announced the approach of the train,
+and the easy puffing of the locomotive indicated that it was now
+standing at the station. The colonel rose from his chair and started
+across the room, followed by Aleck.</p>
+
+<p>"You're very kind to do that," said the boy. And he added: "Have you a
+grip that I can carry to the train for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank you! A certain act&mdash;rash per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>haps, but justifiable,&mdash;in the
+civil war, cost me an arm. Since then, when traveling, I have found it
+convenient to check my baggage."</p>
+
+<p>He pushed his way through the crowd on the platform, still followed by
+Aleck, and mounted the rear steps of the last coach on the train. The
+engine bell was ringing. The conductor cried, "All aboard!" and
+signalled to the engineer, and the train moved slowly out.</p>
+
+<p>On the rear platform, scanning the crowd at the station, stood Colonel
+Butler, tall, soldierly, impressive. He saw Aleck and waved his hand
+to him. And at that moment, capless, breathless, hopeless, around the
+corner of the station into sight, dashed Pen Butler.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h3>
+
+
+<p>Pen was not only exhausted by his race, he was disappointed and
+distressed as well.</p>
+
+<p>Whether or not his grandfather had seen him as the train moved out he
+did not know. He simply knew that for him not to have been there on
+time was little less than tragical. He dropped down limply on a
+convenient trunk to regain his breath.</p>
+
+<p>After a minute he was aware that some one was standing near by,
+looking at him. He glanced up and saw that it was Aleck Sands. He was
+nettled. He knew of no reason why Aleck should stand there staring at
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he asked impatiently, "is there anything about me that's
+particularly astonishing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not particularly," replied Aleck. "You seem to be winded, that's
+all."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd be winded too, if you'd run all the way from Drake's Hill."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>"Too bad you missed your grandfather. He was looking for you."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"He told me so. He wanted to know if I'd seen you."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you tell him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I told him you'd gone to Drake's Hill, coasting."</p>
+
+<p>Pen rose slowly to his feet. What right, he asked himself, had this
+fellow to be telling tales about him? What right had he to be talking
+to Colonel Butler, anyway? However, he did not choose to lower his
+dignity further by inquiry. He turned as if to leave the station. But
+Aleck, who had been turning the matter over carefully in his mind, had
+decided that Pen ought to know about the proposed gift of the flag. He
+ought not to be permitted, unwittingly, to go on securing
+subscriptions to a fund which, by reason of Colonel Butler's proposed
+gift, had been made unnecessary. That would be cruel and humiliating.
+So, as Pen turned away, he said to him:</p>
+
+<p>"I've put in some work for the flag this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>"I s'pose so," responded Pen. "But it does not follow that by getting
+the first start you'll come out best in the end."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe not; but I'd like to show you what I've done."</p>
+
+<p>He took the subscription paper from his pocket and began to unfold it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," replied Pen, "I don't care what you've done. It's none of my
+business. You get your subscriptions and I'll get mine."</p>
+
+<p>Aleck looked for a moment steadily at his opponent. Then he folded up
+his paper and put it back into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" he said. "Only don't forget that I offered to show it to
+you to-day."</p>
+
+<p>But Pen was both resentful and scornful. He did not propose to treat
+his rival's offer seriously, nor to give him the satisfaction of
+looking at his paper.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't bluff me that way," he said. "And besides, I'm not
+interested in what you're doing."</p>
+
+<p>And he walked around the corner of the station platform and out into
+the street.</p>
+
+<p>When Aleck Sands tramped up the hill to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> school on the following
+morning it was with no great sense of jubilation over his success. He
+had an uneasy feeling that he had not done exactly the fair thing in
+soliciting a subscription from Pen Butler's grandfather. It was, in a
+way, trenching on Pen's preserves. But he justified himself on the
+ground that he had a perfect right to get his contributions where he
+chose. His agency had been conditioned by no territorial limits. And
+if, by his diligence, he had outwitted Pen, surely he had nothing to
+regret. So far as his failure to disclose to his rival the fact of
+Colonel Butler's gift was concerned, that, he felt, was Pen's own
+fault. If, by his offensive conduct, the other boy had deprived
+himself of his means of knowledge, and had humiliated himself and made
+himself ridiculous by procuring unnecessary subscriptions, certainly
+he, Aleck, was not to blame. Under any circumstances, now that he had
+gone so far in the matter, he would not yield an inch nor make a
+single concession. On that course he was fully determined.</p>
+
+<p>On the walk, as he approached the school-house door, Pen was standing,
+with a group of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> Hill boys. They were discussing the accident that had
+occurred on Drake's Hill the day before. They paid little attention to
+Aleck as he passed by them, but, just as he was mounting the steps,
+Pen called out to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Aleck! You wanted to show me your subscription paper last night.
+I'll look at it now, and you look at mine, and we'll leave it to the
+fellows here who's got the most names and the most money promised. And
+I haven't got my grandfather on it yet, either."</p>
+
+<p>Aleck turned and faced him. "Remember what you said to me last night?"
+he asked. "Well, I'll say the same thing to you this morning. I'm not
+interested in your paper. It's none of my business. You get your
+subscriptions and I'll get mine."</p>
+
+<p>And he mounted the steps and entered the school-room.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Grey was already at her desk, and he went straight to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I've brought back my subscription blank, Miss Grey," he said, and he
+handed the paper to her.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up in surprise.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>"You haven't completed your canvass, have you?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No. If you'll read the paper you'll see it wasn't necessary."</p>
+
+<p>She unfolded the paper and read the letter written on it. Her face
+flushed; but whether with astonishment or anxiety it would have been
+difficult to say.</p>
+
+<p>"Did Colonel Butler know," she inquired, "when he wrote this, that Pen
+also had a subscription paper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I met him at the station last night, when he was starting for
+New York, and I told him all about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Was Pen there?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; he didn't get there till after the train started."</p>
+
+<p>"Does he know about this letter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not from me. I offered to show it to him but he wouldn't look at it."</p>
+
+<p>"Aleck, there's something strange about this. I don't quite understand
+it. Is Pen outside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; he was when I came."</p>
+
+<p>"Call him in, please; and return with him."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>Aleck went to the door, his resolution to stand by his conduct growing
+stronger every minute. He called to Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Grey wants to see you," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"What for?" inquired Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"She'll tell you when you come in."</p>
+
+<p>Both boys returned to the teacher.</p>
+
+<p>"Pen," she inquired, "have you obtained any subscriptions to your
+paper for the flag fund?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss Grey," he replied. "I think I've done pretty well
+considering my grandfather's not home."</p>
+
+<p>He handed his paper to her with a show of pardonable pride; but she
+merely glanced at the long list of names.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you know," she asked, "that Colonel Butler has decided to give
+the flag to the school?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen opened his eyes in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said. "Has he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Read this letter, please."</p>
+
+<p>She handed the colonel's letter to him and he began to read it. His
+face grew red and his eyes snapped. He had been outwitted. He knew in
+a moment when, where and how it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> had been done. He handed the paper
+back to Miss Grey.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" he said. "But I think it was a mean, underhanded,
+contemptible trick."</p>
+
+<p>Then Aleck, slow to wrath, woke up.</p>
+
+<p>"There was nothing mean nor underhanded about it," he retorted. "I had
+a perfect right to ask Colonel Butler for a subscription. And if he
+chose to give the whole flag, that was his lookout. And," turning to
+Pen, "if you'd been half way decent last night, you'd have known all
+about this thing then, and maybe saved yourself some trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Before Pen could flash back a reply, Miss Grey intervened.</p>
+
+<p>"That will do, boys. I'm not sure who is in the wrong here, if any one
+is. I propose to find out about that, later. It's an unfortunate
+situation; but, in justice to Colonel Butler, we must accept it." She
+handed Pen's paper back to him, and added: "I think you had better
+take this back to your subscribers, and ask them to cancel their
+subscriptions. I will consult with my associates at noon, and we will
+decide upon our future course. In the mean<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>time I charge you both,
+strictly, to say nothing about this matter until after I have made my
+announcement at the afternoon session. You may take your seats."</p>
+
+<p>The school bell had already ceased ringing, and the pupils had filed
+in and had taken their proper places. So Aleck and Pen went down the
+aisle, the one with stubborn resolution marking his countenance, the
+other with keen resentment flashing from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And poor Miss Grey, mild and peace-loving, but now troubled and
+despondent, who had thought to restore harmony among her pupils,
+foresaw, instead, only a continued and more bitter rivalry.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding her admonition, rumors of serious trouble between
+Aleck and Pen filtered through the school-room during the morning
+session, and were openly discussed at the noon recess. But both boys
+kept silent.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until the day's work had been finally disposed of, and the
+closing hour had almost arrived, that Miss Grey made her announcement.</p>
+
+<p>With all the composure at her command she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> called the attention of the
+school to the plan for a flag fund.</p>
+
+<p>"Our end has been accomplished," she added, "much more quickly and
+successfully than we had dared to hope, as you will see by this letter
+which I shall read to you."</p>
+
+<p>When she had finished reading the letter there was a burst of
+applause. The school had not discovered the currents under the
+surface.</p>
+
+<p>She continued:</p>
+
+<p>"This, of course, will do away with the necessity of obtaining
+subscriptions. Honors appear to be nearly even. A prominent citizen of
+Chestnut Hill has given us the flag&mdash;" (Loud applause from the
+Hilltops;) "and a pupil from Chestnut Valley has the distinction of
+having procured the gift." (Cheers for Aleck Sands from the
+Riverbeds.) "Now let rivalry cease, and let us unite in a fitting
+acceptance of the gift. I have consulted with my associates, and we
+have appointed a committee to wait upon Colonel Butler and to
+cooperate with him in fixing a day for the presentation of the flag to
+the school. We will make a half-holiday for the occasion, and will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+prepare an order of exercises. We assume that Colonel Butler will make
+a speech of presentation, and we have selected Penfield Butler as the
+most appropriate person to respond on behalf of the school. Penfield
+will prepare himself accordingly."</p>
+
+<p>By making this appointment Miss Grey had hoped to pour oil upon the
+troubled waters, and to bring about at least a semblance of harmony
+among the warring elements. But, as the event proved, she had counted
+without her host. For she had no sooner finished her address than Pen
+was on his feet. His face was pale and there was a strange look in his
+eyes, but he did not appear to be unduly excited.</p>
+
+<p>"May I speak, Miss Grey?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I want to say that I'm very much obliged to you for appointing
+me, but I decline the appointment. I'm glad the school's going to have
+a flag, and I'm glad my grandfather's going to give it; and I thank
+you, Miss Grey, for trying to please me; but I don't propose to be
+made the tail of Aleck Sands' kite. If he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> thinks it's an honor to get
+the flag the way he got it, let him have the honor of accepting it."</p>
+
+<p>Pen sat down. There was no applause. Even his own followers were too
+greatly amazed for the moment to applaud him. And, before they got
+their wits together, Miss Grey had again taken the reins in hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure we all regret," she said, "that Penfield does not see fit
+to accept this appointment, and we should regret still more the
+attitude of mind that leads him to decline it. However, in accordance
+with his suggestion, I will name Alexander Sands as the person who
+will make the response to Colonel Butler's presentation speech. That
+is all to-day. When school is dismissed you will not loiter about the
+school grounds, but go immediately to your homes."</p>
+
+<p>It was a wise precaution on Miss Grey's part to direct her pupils to
+go at once to their homes. There is no telling what disorder might
+have taken place had they been permitted to remain. The group of
+Hilltops that surrounded Pen as he marched up the street and explained
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> situation to them, was loud in its condemnation of the meanness
+and trickery of Aleck Sands; and the party of Riverbeds that walked
+down with Aleck was jubilant over the clever way in which he had
+outwitted his opponent, and had, by obtaining honor for himself,
+conferred honor also upon them.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler returned, in due season, from New York.</p>
+
+<p>Pen met him at the station on his arrival. There was no delay on this
+occasion. Indeed, the boy had paced up and down the platform for at
+least fifteen minutes before the train drew in. During the ride up to
+Bannerhall, behind the splendid team of blacks with their jingling
+bells, nothing was said about the gift of the flag. It was not until
+dinner had been served and partly eaten that the subject was
+mentioned, and the colonel himself was the first one to mention it.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, Penfield," he said, "I have ordered, and I expect to
+receive in a few days, an American flag which I shall present to your
+public school. I presume you have heard something concerning it?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>"Yes, grandfather. Your letter was read to the school by Miss Grey the
+day after you went to New York."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she seem pleased over the gift?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, very much so, I think. It was awfully nice of you to give it."</p>
+
+<p>"A&mdash;was any arrangement made about receiving it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss Grey appointed a committee to see you. There's to be a
+half-holiday, and exercises."</p>
+
+<p>"I presume&mdash;a&mdash;Penfield, that I will be expected to make a brief
+address?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. Miss Grey's counting on it."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, father," interrupted Aunt Millicent, "I do hope it will be a
+really brief address. You're so long-winded. That speech you made when
+the school-house was dedicated was twice too long. Everybody got
+tired."</p>
+
+<p>His daughter Millicent was the only person on earth from whom Colonel
+Butler would accept criticism or reproof. And from her he not only
+accepted it, but not infrequently acted upon it in accordance with her
+wish. He had always humored her, because she had always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> lived with
+him, except during the time she was away at boarding school; and since
+the death of his wife, a dozen years before, she had devoted herself
+to his comfort. But he was fond, nevertheless, of getting into a mild
+argument with her, and being vanquished, as he expected to be now.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear daughter," he said, "I invariably gauge the length of my
+speech by the importance of the occasion. The occasion to which you
+refer was an important one, as will be the occasion of the
+presentation of this flag. It will be necessary for me, therefore, to
+address the pupils and the assembled guests at sufficient length to
+impress upon them the desirability, you may say the necessity, of
+having a patriotic emblem, such as is the American flag, constantly
+before the eyes of our youth."</p>
+
+<p>His daughter laughed a little. She was never awed by his stately
+manner of speech.</p>
+
+<p>"All the same," she replied; "I shall get a seat in the front row, and
+if you exceed fifteen minutes&mdash;fifteen minutes to a minute, mind
+you&mdash;I shall hold up a warning finger; and if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> you still trespass, I
+shall go up and drag you off the platform by your coat tails; and then
+you'd look pretty, wouldn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>Apparently he did not find it profitable to prolong the argument with
+her on this occasion, for he laughed and turned again to Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, Penfield," he said, "I missed you at the train the day I
+left home. I suppose something of major importance detained you?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen blushed a little, but he replied frankly:</p>
+
+<p>"I was awfully sorry, grandfather; I meant to have written you about
+it. I didn't exactly forget; but I was coasting on Drake's Hill, and
+there was an accident, and I was very much excited, and it got
+train-time before I knew it. Then I ran as fast as I could, but it
+wasn't any use."</p>
+
+<p>"I see. I trust that no one was seriously injured?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. I bruised my shin a little, and Elmer scraped his knee, and
+the bobs were wrecked; that's about all."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler adjusted his glasses and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> leaned back in his chair; a
+habit he had when about to deliver himself of an opinion which he
+deemed important.</p>
+
+<p>"Penfield," he said, "a gentleman should never permit anything to
+interfere with the keeping of his engagements. If the matter in hand
+is of sufficient importance to call for an engagement, it is of
+sufficient importance to keep the engagement so made. It is an
+elementary principle of good conduct that a gentleman should always
+keep his word. Otherwise the relations of men with each other would
+become chaotic."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," replied Pen.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler removed his glasses and again applied himself to the
+disposal of his food which had been cut into convenient portions by
+his devoted daughter.</p>
+
+<p>But his mind soon recurred to the subject of the flag.</p>
+
+<p>"A&mdash;Penfield," he inquired, "do you chance to know whether any person
+has been chosen to make a formal response to my speech of
+presentation?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen felt that the conversation was approach<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>ing an embarrassing stage,
+but there was no hesitancy in his manner as he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. The boy that got your offer, Aleck Sands, will make the
+response."</p>
+
+<p>"H'm! I was hoping, expecting in fact, that you, yourself, would be
+chosen to perform that pleasing duty. Had you been, we could have
+prepared our several speeches with a view to their proper relation to
+each other. It occurred to me that your teacher, Miss Grey, would have
+this fact in mind. Do you happen to know of any reason why she should
+not have appointed you?"</p>
+
+<p>For the first time in the course of the conversation Pen hesitated and
+stammered.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I&mdash;she&mdash;she did appoint me."</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you just told me, sir, that&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But, grandfather, I declined."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Millicent dropped her hands into her lap in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Pen Butler!" she exclaimed, "why haven't you told me a word of this
+before?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, Aunt Milly, it wasn't a very agreeable incident, and I
+didn't want to bother you telling about it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>Colonel Butler had, in the meantime, again put on his glasses in order
+that he might look more searchingly at his grandson.</p>
+
+<p>"Permit me to inquire," he asked, "why you should have declined so
+distinct an honor?"</p>
+
+<p>Then Pen blurted out his whole grievance.</p>
+
+<p>"Because Aleck Sands didn't do the fair thing. He got you to give the
+flag through him instead of through me, by a mean trick. He gets the
+credit of getting the flag; now let him have the honor of accepting
+it. I won't play second fiddle to such a fellow as he is, and that's
+all there is to it."</p>
+
+<p>He pushed his chair back from the table and sat, with flaming cheeks
+and defiant eyes, as if ready to meet all comers.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Millicent, more astonished than ever, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Pen Butler, I'm shocked!"</p>
+
+<p>But the colonel did not seem to be shocked. Back of his glasses there
+was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes which Pen could not see. Here
+was the old Butler pride and independence manifesting itself; the
+spirit which had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> made the family prosperous and prominent. He was not
+ill-pleased. Nevertheless he leaned back in his chair and spoke
+impressively:</p>
+
+<p>"Now let us consider the situation. You received from your teacher a
+copy of the same subscription blank which was handed to your
+fellow-pupil. Had you met your engagement at the station, and called
+the matter to my attention, you would doubtless have received my
+subscription, or been the bearer of my offer, in preference to any one
+else. In your absence your school-fellow seized a legitimate
+opportunity to present his case. My regret at your failure to appear,
+and my appreciation of his alertness, led me to favor him. I am unable
+to see why, under these circumstances, he should be charged with
+improper conduct."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," responded Pen, hotly, "he might at least have told you that I
+had a subscription blank too."</p>
+
+<p>"He did so inform me. And his fairness and frankness in doing so was
+an inducing cause of my favorable consideration of his request."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>Pen felt that the ground was being cut away from under his feet, but
+he still had one grievance left.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyway," he exclaimed, "he might have told me about your giving the
+whole flag, instead of letting me go around like a monkey, collecting
+pennies for nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Very true, Penfield, he should have told you. Didn't he intimate to
+you in any way what I had done? Didn't he offer to show you his
+subscription blank containing my letter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why, yes, I believe he did."</p>
+
+<p>"And you declined to look at it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I declined to look at it. I considered it none of my business.
+But he might have told me what was on it."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear grandson; this is a case in which the alertness of your
+school-fellow, added to your failure to keep an engagement and to
+grasp a situation, has led to your discomfiture. Let this be a lesson
+to you to be diligent, vigilant and forearmed. Only thus are great
+battles won."</p>
+
+<p>Again the colonel placed his glasses on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> hook on the breast of his
+waistcoat, and resumed his activity in connection with his evening
+meal. It was plain that he considered the discussion at an end.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was on an afternoon late in January that the flag was finally
+presented to the school. It was a day marked with fierce winds and
+flurries of snow, like a day in March.</p>
+
+<p>But the inclement weather did not prevent people from coming to the
+presentation exercises. The school room was full; even the aisles were
+filled, and more than one late-comer was turned away because there was
+no more room.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the fact that the Riverbeds were to have the lion's
+share of the honors of the occasion, and the further fact that
+resentment in the ranks of the Hilltops ran strong and deep, and
+doubly so since the outwitting of their leader, no attempt was made to
+block the program, or to interfere, in any way, with the success of
+the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>There were, indeed, some secret whisperings in a little group of which
+Elmer Cuddeback<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> was the center; but, if any mischief was brewing, Pen
+did not know of it.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, was it not Pen's grandfather who had given the flag, and who
+was to be the chief guest of the school, and was it not up to the
+Hilltops to see that he was treated with becoming courtesy? At any
+rate that was the "consensus of opinion" among them. Colonel Butler
+had prepared his presentation speech with great care. Twice he had
+read it aloud in his library to his grandson and to his daughter
+Millicent.</p>
+
+<p>His grandson had only favorable comment to make, but his daughter
+Millicent criticised it sharply. She said that it was twice too long,
+that it had too much "spread eagle" in it, and that it would be away
+over the heads of his audience anyway. So the colonel modified it
+somewhat; but, unfortunately, he neither made it simpler nor
+appreciably shorter.</p>
+
+<p>Aleck, too, under the supervision of his teacher, had prepared a
+fitting and patriotic response which he had committed to memory and
+had rehearsed many times. Pupils taking part in the rest of the
+program had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> carefully and patiently drilled, and every one
+looked forward to an occasion which would be marked as a red-letter
+day in the history of the Chestnut Hill school.</p>
+
+<p>The exercises opened with the singing of "The Star Spangled Banner,"
+by the school. There was a brief prayer by the pastor of one of the
+village churches. Next came a recitation, "Barbara Frietchie," by a
+small girl. Then another girl read a brief history of the American
+flag. She was followed by James Garfield Morrissey, the crack
+elocutionist of the school, who recited, in fine form, a well-known
+patriotic poem, written to commemorate the heroism of American sailors
+who cheered the flag as they went down with the sinking flag-ship
+<em>Trenton</em> in a hurricane which swept the Samoan coast in 1889.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">THE BANNER OF THE SEA<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By wind and wave the sailor brave has fared<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To shores of every sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, never yet have seamen met or dared<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Grim death for victory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In braver mood than they who died<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On drifting decks in Apia's tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While cheering every sailor's pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The Banner of the Free.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Columbia's men were they who then went down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Not knights nor kings of old;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But brighter far their laurels are than crown<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Or coronet of gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our sailor true, of any crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would give the last long breath he drew<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To cheer the old Red, White and Blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The Banner of the Bold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With hearts of oak, through storm and smoke and flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Columbia's seamen long<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have bravely fought and nobly wrought that shame<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Might never dull their song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They sing the Country of the Free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The glory of the rolling sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The starry flag of liberty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The Banner of the Strong.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We ask but this, and not amiss the claim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A fleet to ride the wave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A navy great to crown the state with fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Though foes or tempests rave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, as our fathers did of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We'll sail our ships to every shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On every ocean wind will soar<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The Banner of the Brave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! this we claim that never shame may ride<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">On any wave with thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou ship of state whose timbers great abide<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The home of liberty.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For, so, our gallant Yankee tars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of daring deeds and honored scars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will make the Banner of the Stars<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The Banner of the Sea.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The school having been roused to a proper pitch of enthusiasm by the
+reading of these verses, Colonel Butler rose in an atmosphere already
+surcharged with patriotism to make his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> presentation speech. Hearty
+applause greeted the colonel, for, notwithstanding his well-known
+idiosyncrasies, he was extremely popular in Chestnut Hill. He had been
+a brave soldier, an exemplary neighbor, a prominent and
+public-spirited citizen. Why should he not receive a generous welcome?
+He graciously bowed his acknowledgment, and when the hand-clapping
+ceased he began:</p>
+
+<p>"Honored teachers, diligent pupils, faithful directors, patriotic
+citizens, and friends. This is a most momentous occasion. We are met
+to-day to do honor to the flag of our country, a flag for which&mdash;and I
+say it with pardonable pride&mdash;I, myself, have fought on many a bloody
+and well-known field."</p>
+
+<p>There was a round of applause.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel's face flushed with pleasure, his voice rose and expanded,
+and in many a well-rounded phrase and burst of eloquence he appealed
+to the latent patriotism of his hearers.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of fifteen minutes he glanced at his watch which was lying
+on a table at his side, and then looked at his daughter Millicent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> who
+was occupying a chair in the front row as she had said she would. She
+frowned at him forbiddingly. But he was as yet scarcely half through
+his speech. He picked up his manuscript from the table and glanced at
+it, and then looked appealingly at her. She was obdurate. She held a
+warning forefinger in the air.</p>
+
+<p>"I am reminded," he said, "by one in the audience whose judgment I am
+bound to respect, that the time allotted to me in this program has
+nearly elapsed."</p>
+
+<p>"Fully elapsed," whispered his daughter with pursed lips, in such
+manner that, looking at her, he could not fail to catch the words.</p>
+
+<p>"Therefore," continued the colonel, with a sigh, "I must hasten to my
+conclusion. I wish to acknowledge my deep indebtedness to your
+faithful teacher, Miss Grey, by reason of whose patriotic initiative
+the opportunity was presented to me to make this gift. I wish also to
+commend the vigilance and effort of the young gentleman who brought
+the matter to my immediate and personal attention, and who, I am
+informed, will fittingly and eloquently respond<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> to this brief and
+somewhat unsatisfactory address, Master Alexander Sands."</p>
+
+<p>Back somewhere in the audience, at the sound of the name, there was an
+audible sniff which was immediately drowned by loud hand-clapping on
+the part of the Riverbeds. But Colonel Butler was not yet quite
+through. Avoiding any ominous look which might have been aimed at him
+by his daughter, he hurried on:</p>
+
+<p>"And now, in conclusion, as I turn this flag over into your custody,
+let me charge you to guard it with exceeding care. It should be
+treated with reverence because it symbolizes our common country.
+Whoever regards it with indifference has no patriotic blood in his
+veins. Whoever lays wanton hands on it is a traitor to it. And whoever
+insults or defames it in any way, deserves, and will receive, the open
+scorn and lasting contempt of all his countrymen. Ladies and
+gentlemen, I have done."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel resumed his seat amid a roar of applause, and when it had
+subsided Miss Grey arose to introduce the respondent.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>"This beautiful flag," she said, "will now be accepted, on behalf of
+the school, in an address by one of our pupils: Master Alexander
+Sands."</p>
+
+<p>Aleck arose and made his way to the platform. The Riverbeds applauded
+him vigorously, and the guests mildly, as he went. He started out
+bravely enough on his speech.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Butler, teachers and guests: It gives me pleasure, on behalf
+of the Chestnut Hill public school, to accept this beautiful flag&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He made a sweeping gesture toward the right-hand corner of the
+platform, as he had done at rehearsals, only to discover that the flag
+had, at the last moment, been shifted to the left-hand corner, and he
+had, perforce, to turn and repeat his gesture in that direction. There
+was nothing particularly disconcerting about this, but it broke the
+continuity of his effort, it interfered with his memory, he halted,
+colored, and cudgeled his brains to find what came next. Back, in the
+rear of the room, where the Hilltops were gathered, there was an
+audible snicker; but Aleck was too busy to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> hear it, and Miss Grey,
+prepared for just such an emergency as this, glanced at a manuscript
+she had in her hand, and prompted him:</p>
+
+<p>"So graciously given to us&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Aleck caught the words and went on:</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;so graciously given to us by our honored townsman and patriotic
+citizen, Colonel Richard Butler."</p>
+
+<p>Another pause. Again Miss Grey came to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>"No words of mine&mdash;" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"No words of mine," repeated Aleck.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, they're no words of yours," said some one in a stage-whisper,
+far down in the audience.</p>
+
+<p>Suspicion pointed to Elmer Cuddeback, but he stood there against the
+wall, with such an innocent, sober look on his round face, that people
+thought they must be mistaken. The words had not failed to reach to
+the platform, however, and Miss Grey, more troubled than before, again
+had recourse to her manuscript for the benefit of Aleck, who was
+floundering more deeply than ever in the bogs of memory.</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;can properly express&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>"&mdash;can properly express&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Another pause. Again the voice back by the wall:</p>
+
+<p>"Express broke down; take local."</p>
+
+<p>The situation was growing desperate. Miss Grey was almost at her wit's
+end. Then a bright idea struck her. She thrust the manuscript into
+Aleck's hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Aleck," she exclaimed, "take it and read it!"</p>
+
+<p>He grasped it like the proverbial drowning man, turned it upside down
+and right side up, but failed to find the place where he had left off.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 394px;"><a name="Illustration_Upside_Down" id="Illustration_Upside_Down"></a>
+<img src="images/upsidedown.jpg" width="394" height="500" alt="Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up, But Failed to Find the Place" title="Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up, But Failed to Find the Place" />
+<span class="caption">Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up, But Failed to Find the Place</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Again the insistent, high-pitched whisper from the rear, breaking
+distinctly into the embarrassing silence:</p>
+
+<p>"Can't read it, cause teacher wrote it."</p>
+
+<p>This was the last straw. Slow to wrath as he always was, Aleck had
+thus far kept his temper. But this charge filled him with sudden anger
+and resentment. He turned his eyes, blazing with fury, toward the boy
+by the rear wall, whom he knew was baiting him, and shouted:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>"That's a lie, Elmer Cuddeback, and you know it!"</p>
+
+<p>At once confusion reigned. People stood up and looked around to get a
+possible glimpse of the object of Aleck's denunciation. Some one
+cried: "Put him out!"</p>
+
+<p>Two or three members of the Riverbeds started threateningly toward
+Elmer, and his friends struggled to get closer to him. An excitable
+woman in the audience screamed. Miss Grey was pounding vigorously with
+her gavel, but to no effect. Then Colonel Butler himself took matters
+in hand. He rose to his feet, stretched out his arm, and shouted:</p>
+
+<p>"Order! Order! Resume your seats!"</p>
+
+<p>People sat down again. The belligerent boys halted in their tracks.
+Everyone felt that the colonel must be obeyed. He waited, in
+commanding attitude, until order had been restored, then he continued:</p>
+
+<p>"The young gentleman who undertook to respond to my address was
+stricken with what is commonly known as stage-fright. That is no
+discredit to him. It is a malady that attacked so great a man and so
+brave a warrior as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> General Grant. I may add that I, myself, have
+suffered from it on occasion. And now that order has been restored we
+will proceed with the regular program, and Master Sands will finish
+the delivery of his address."</p>
+
+<p>He stepped back to give the respondent the floor; but Master Sands was
+nowhere in sight. In the confusion he had disappeared. The colonel
+looked around him expectantly for a moment, and then again advanced to
+the front of the platform.</p>
+
+<p>"In the absence of our young friend," he said, "whose address, I am
+sure, would have been received with the approbation it deserves, I,
+myself, will occupy a portion of the time thus made vacant, in still
+further expounding to you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But at this moment, notwithstanding his effort to avoid it, he again
+caught his daughter's warning look, and saw her forefinger held
+threateningly in the air.</p>
+
+<p>"I am reminded, however," he continued, "by one in the audience whose
+judgment I am bound to respect, that it is not appropriate for me to
+make both the speech of presentation and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> the address on behalf of the
+recipient. I will, therefore, conclude by thanking you for your
+attendance and your attention, and by again adjuring you to honor,
+protect and preserve this beautiful emblem of our national liberties."</p>
+
+<p>He had scarcely taken his seat amid the applause that his words always
+evoked, before Miss Grey was on her feet announcing the closing number
+of the program, the song "America," by the entire audience.</p>
+
+<p>Whether it was due to the excitement of the occasion, or, as the
+colonel afterward modestly suggested, to the spirit of patriotism
+aroused by his remarks, it is a fact that no one present had ever
+before heard the old song sung with more vim and feeling.</p>
+
+<p>The audience was dismissed.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler's friends came forward to congratulate and thank him.
+The Hilltops, chuckling gleefully, with Elmer Cuddeback in their
+center, marched off up-town. The Riverbeds, downcast and revengeful,
+made their way down the hill. But Aleck Sands was not with them. He
+had already left the school-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>building and had gone home. He was angry
+and bitterly resentful. He felt that he could have faced any one, at
+any time, in open warfare, but to be humiliated and ridiculed in
+public, that was more than even his phlegmatic nature could stand. He
+could not forget it. He could not forgive those who had caused it.
+Days, weeks, years were not sufficient to blot entirely from his heart
+the feeling of revenge that entered it that winter afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>It was late on the same day that Colonel Butler stood with his back to
+the blazing wood-fire in the library, waiting for his supper to be
+served, and looking out into the hall on the folds of the handsome,
+silk, American flag draped against the wall. There had always been a
+flag in the hall. Colonel Butler's father had placed one there when he
+built the house and went to live in it. And when, later on, the
+colonel fell heir to the property, and rebuilt and modernized the
+home, he replaced the old flag of bunting with the present one of
+silk. Indeed, it was on account of the place and prominence given to
+the flag that the home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>stead had been known for many years as
+Bannerhall.</p>
+
+<p>Pen sat at the library table preparing his lessons for the following
+day.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Penfield," said the colonel, "a&mdash;what did you think of my
+speech to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it was great," replied Pen. "Pretty near as good as the one
+you delivered last Memorial Day."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel smiled with satisfaction. "Yes," he remarked, "I, myself,
+thought it was pretty good; or would have been if your aunt Millicent
+had permitted me to complete it. It was also unfortunate that your
+young friend was not able fully to carry out his part of the program."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean Aleck Sands?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that is the young gentleman's name."</p>
+
+<p>"He's not my friend, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>"Tut! Tut! You should not harbor resentment because of his having
+outwitted you in the matter of procuring the flag. Especially in view
+of his discomfiture of to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't my fault that he flunked."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>"I am not charging you with that responsibility, sir. I am simply
+appealing to your generosity. By the way, I understand&mdash;I have learned
+this afternoon, that there exists what may be termed a feud between
+the boys of Chestnut Hill and those of Chestnut Valley. Have I been
+correctly informed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes; I guess&mdash;I suppose you might call it that."</p>
+
+<p>"And I have been informed also that you are the leader of what are
+facetiously termed the 'Hilltops,' and that our young friend, Master
+Sands, is the leader of what are termed, still more facetiously, the
+'Riverbeds.' Is this true?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen closed his book and hesitated. He felt that a reproof was coming,
+to be followed, perhaps, by strict orders concerning his own
+neutrality.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he stammered, "I&mdash;I guess that's about right. Anyway our
+fellows sort o' depend on me to help 'em hold their own."</p>
+
+<p>Pen was not looking at his grandfather. If he had been he would have
+seen a twinkle of satisfaction in the old gentleman's eyes. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> was
+something for a veteran of the civil war to have a grandson who had
+been chosen to the leadership of his fellows for the purpose of
+engaging in juvenile hostilities. So there was no shadow of reproof in
+the colonel's voice as he asked his next question.</p>
+
+<p>"And what, may I inquire, is, or has been, the <em>casus belli</em>?"</p>
+
+<p>"The what, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"The&mdash;a&mdash;cause or causes which have produced the present state of
+hostility."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I don't know&mdash;nothing in particular, I guess&mdash;only they're all
+the time doing mean things, and boasting they can lick us if we give
+'em a chance; and I&mdash;I'm for giving 'em the chance."</p>
+
+<p>Reproof or no reproof, he had spoken his mind. He had risen from his
+chair, and stood before his grandfather with determination written in
+every line of his flushed face. Colonel Butler looked at him and
+chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good!" he said. He chuckled again and repeated: "Very good!"</p>
+
+<p>Pen stared at him in astonishment. He could not quite understand his
+attitude.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>"Now, Penfield," continued the old gentleman, "mind you, I do not
+approve of petty jealousies and quarrelings, nor of causeless
+assaults. But, when any person is assailed, it is his peculiar
+privilege, sir, to hit back. And when he hits he should hit hard. He
+should use both strategy and force. He should see to it, sir, that his
+enemy is punished. Have your two hostile bodies yet met in open
+conflict on the field?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why," replied Pen, still amazed at the course things were taking,
+"we've had one or two rather lively little scraps. But I suppose,
+after what happened to-day, they'll want to fight. If they do want to,
+we're ready for 'em."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel had left his place in front of the fire, and was pacing up
+and down the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good!" he exclaimed, "very good! Men and nations should always
+be prepared for conflict. To that end young men should learn the art
+of fighting, so that when the call to arms comes, as I foresee that it
+will come, the nation will be ready."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>He stopped in his walk and faced his grandson.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I deprecate the arts of peace, Penfield. By no means! It is
+by those arts that nations have grown great. But, in my humble
+judgment, sir, as a citizen and a soldier, the only way to preserve
+peace, and to ensure greatness, is to be at all times ready for war.
+We must instil the martial spirit into our young men, we must rouse
+their fighting blood, we must teach them the art of war, so that if
+the flag is ever insulted or assailed they will be ready to protect it
+with their bodies and their blood. Learn to fight; to fight honorably,
+bravely, skillfully, and&mdash;to fight&mdash;hard."</p>
+
+<p>"Father Richard Butler!"</p>
+
+<p>It was Aunt Millicent who spoke. She had come on them from the hall
+unawares, and had overheard the final words of the colonel's
+adjuration.</p>
+
+<p>"Father Richard Butler," she repeated, "what heresy is this you are
+teaching to Pen?"</p>
+
+<p>He made a brave but hopeless effort to justify his course.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>"I am teaching him," he replied, "the duty that devolves upon every
+patriotic citizen."</p>
+
+<p>"Patriotic fiddlesticks!" she exclaimed. "I have no patience with such
+blood-thirsty doctrines. And, Pen, listen! If I ever hear of your
+fighting with anybody, at any time, you'll have your aunt Millicent to
+deal with, I promise you that. Now come to supper, both of you."</p>
+
+<p>It was not until nearly the close of the afternoon session on the
+following day that Miss Grey referred to the unfortunate incident of
+the day before. She expressed her keen regret, and her sense of
+humiliation, over the occurrence that had marred the program, and
+requested Elmer Cuddeback, Aleck Sands and Penfield Butler to remain
+after school that she might confer with them concerning some proper
+form of apology to Colonel Butler. But when she had the three boys
+alone with her, and referred to the shameful discourtesy with which
+the donor of the flag had been treated, tears came into her eyes, and
+her voice trembled to the point of breaking. No one could have helped
+feeling sorry for her;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> especially the three boys who were most
+concerned.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think," said Pen, consolingly, "that grandfather minded it
+very much. He doesn't talk as if he did."</p>
+
+<p>"Let us hope," she replied, "that he was not too greatly shocked, or
+too deeply disgusted. Elmer, your conduct was wholly inexcusable, and
+I'm going to punish you. But, Pen, you and Aleck are the leaders, and
+I want this disgraceful feud between you up-town and down-town boys to
+stop. I want you both to promise me that this will be the end of it."</p>
+
+<p>She looked from one to the other appealingly, but, for a moment,
+neither boy replied. Then Aleck spoke up.</p>
+
+<p>"Our fellows," he said, "feel pretty sore over the way I was treated
+yesterday; and I don't believe they'd be willing to give up till they
+get even somehow."</p>
+
+<p>To which Pen responded:</p>
+
+<p>"They're welcome to try to get even if they want to. Were ready for
+'em."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Grey threw up her hands in despair.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh boys! boys!" she exclaimed. "Why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> will you be so foolish and
+obstinate? What kind of men do you suppose you'll make if you spend
+your school-days quarreling and fighting with each other?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know," replied Pen. "My grandfather thinks it isn't
+such a bad idea for boys to try their mettle on each other, so long as
+they fight fair. He thinks they'll make better soldiers sometime. And
+he says the country is going to need soldiers after awhile."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't want my boys to become soldiers," she protested. "I don't
+want war. I don't believe in it. I hate it."</p>
+
+<p>She had reason to hate war, for her own father had been wounded at
+Chancellorsville, and she remembered her mother's long years of
+privation and sorrow. Again her lip trembled and her eyes filled with
+tears. There was an awkward pause; for each boy sympathized with her
+and would have been willing to help her had a way been opened that
+would not involve too much of sacrifice. Elmer Cuddeback, even in the
+face of his forthcoming pun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>ishment, was still the most tenderhearted
+of the three, and he struggled to her relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't&mdash;can't we make some sort o' compromise?" he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>But Pen, too, had been thinking, and an idea had occurred to him. And
+before any reply could be made to Elmer's suggestion he offered his
+own solution to the difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what I'll do, Miss Grey," he said, "and what I'll get
+our fellows to do. We'll have one, big snowball fight. And the side
+that gets licked 'll stay licked till school's out next spring. And
+there won't be any more scrapping all winter. We'll do that, won't we,
+Elmer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure we will," responded Elmer confidently.</p>
+
+<p>Aleck did not reply. Miss Grey thought deeply for a full minute.
+Perhaps, after all, Pen's proposition pointed to the best way out of
+the difficulty. Indeed, it was the only way along which there now
+seemed to be any light. She turned to Aleck.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she asked, "what do you think of it?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>"Why, I don't know," he replied. "I'd like to talk with some of our
+fellows about it first."</p>
+
+<p>He was always cautious, conservative, slow to act unless the emergency
+called for action.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Pen. "I won't wait. It's a fair offer, and you'll take
+it now or let it alone."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said Aleck, doggedly, "I'll take it, and you'll be sorry you
+ever made it."</p>
+
+<p>Lest active hostilities should break out at once, Miss Grey
+interrupted:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, boys, I don't approve of it. I don't approve of it at all. I
+think young men like you should be in better business than pelting
+each other, even with snowballs. But, as it appears to be the only way
+out of the difficulty, and in the hope that it will put an end to this
+ridiculous feud, I'm willing that you should go ahead and try it. Do
+it and have it over with as soon as possible, and don't let me know
+when it's going to happen, or anything about it, until you're all
+through."</p>
+
+<p>It was with deep misgivings concerning the success of the plan that
+she dismissed the boys; and more than once during the next few days<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>
+she was on the point of withdrawing her permission for the fight to
+take place. Many times afterwards she regretted keenly that she had
+not done so.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Pen told his grandfather that a snowball fight had been decided
+upon as the method of settling the controversy between the Hilltops
+and the Riverbeds, and that Miss Grey had given her permission to that
+effect, the old gentleman chuckled gleefully.</p>
+
+<p>"A very wise young woman," he said; "very wise indeed. When will the
+sanguinary conflict take place?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why," replied Pen, "the first day the snow melts good."</p>
+
+<p>"I see. I suppose you will lead the forces of Chestnut Hill?"</p>
+
+<p>"I expect to; yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And our young friend, Master Sands, will marshal the troops of the
+Valley?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; I suppose so."</p>
+
+<p>"You will have to look out for that young man, Penfield. He strikes me
+as being very much of a strategist."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>"I'm not afraid of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be over-confident. Over-confidence has lost many a battle."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll lick 'em anyway. We've got to."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the proper spirit. Determination, persistence, bravery,
+hard-fighting&mdash;Hush! Here comes your aunt Millicent."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler was as bold as a lion in the presence of every one save
+his daughter. Against her determination his resolution melted like
+April snow. She loved him devotedly, she cared for him tenderly, but
+she ruled him with a rod of iron. In only one matter did his stubborn
+will hold out effectually against hers. No persuasion, no demand on
+her part, could induce him to change his attitude towards Pen's
+mother. He chose to consider his daughter-in-law absolutely and
+permanently outside of his family, and outside of his consideration,
+and there the matter had rested for a decade, and was likely to rest
+so long as he drew breath.</p>
+
+<p>That night, after Pen had retired to his room, there came a gentle
+knock at his open<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> door. His grandfather stood there, holding in his
+hand a small volume of Upton's military tactics which he had used in
+the Civil War.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought this book might be of some service to you, Penfield," he
+explained. "It will give you a good idea of the proper methods to be
+used in handling large or small bodies of troops."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, grandfather," said Pen, taking the book. "I'll study it.
+I'm sure it'll help me."</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless," continued the colonel, "there must be courage and
+persistency as well as tactics, if battles are to be won. You
+understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>The old man turned away, but turned back again.</p>
+
+<p>"A&mdash;Penfield," he said, "when you are absent from your room will you
+kindly have the book in such a locality that your Aunt Millicent will
+not readily discover it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>The winter weather at Chestnut Hill was not favorable for war. The
+mercury lingered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> in the neighborhood of zero day after day. Snow
+fell, drifted, settled; but did not melt. It was plain that ammunition
+could not be made of such material. So the battle was delayed. But the
+opposing forces nevertheless utilized the time. There were secret
+drills. There were open discussions. Plans of campaign were regularly
+adopted, and as regularly discarded. Yet both sides were constantly
+ready.</p>
+
+<p>A strange result of the situation was that there had not been better
+feeling between the factions for many months. Good-natured boasts
+there were, indeed. But of malice, meanness, open resentment, there
+was nothing. Every one was willing to waive opportunities for
+skirmishing, in anticipation of the one big battle.</p>
+
+<p>It was well along in February before the weather moderated. Then, one
+night, it grew warm. The next morning gray fog lay over all the
+snow-fields. Rivulets of water ran in the gutters, and little pools
+formed in low places everywhere. War time had at last come. Evidently
+nature intended this to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> the battle day. It was Saturday and there
+was no session of the school.</p>
+
+<p>The commander of the Hilltops called his forces together early, and a
+plan of battle was definitely formed. Messengers, carrying a flag of
+truce, communicated with the Riverbeds, and it was agreed that the
+fight should take place that afternoon on the vacant plot in the rear
+of the school building. It was thought best by the Hilltops, however,
+to reconnoiter in force, and to prepare the field for the conflict.
+So, sixteen strong, they went forth to the place selected for the
+fray. They saw nothing of the enemy; the lot was still vacant. They
+began immediately to throw up breast-works. They rolled huge snowballs
+down the slightly sloping ground to the spot selected for a fort.
+These snowballs were so big that, by the time they reached their
+destination, it took at least a half dozen boys to put each one into
+place. They squared them up, and laid them carefully in a curved line
+ten blocks long and three blocks high, with the requisite embrasures.
+Then they prepared their ammunition. They made snowballs by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+score, and piled them in convenient heaps inside the barricade. By the
+time this work was finished it was noon. Then, leaving a sufficient
+force to guard the fortifications, the remainder of the troops sallied
+forth to luncheon, among them the leader of the Hilltops. At the
+luncheon table Pen took advantage of the temporary absence of his aunt
+to inform his grandfather, in a stage-whisper, that the long
+anticipated fight was scheduled for that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>"And," he added, "we've got the biggest snow fort you ever saw, and
+dead loads of snowballs inside."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel smiled and his eyes twinkled.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" he whispered back. "Smite them hip and thigh. Hold the fort!
+'Stand: the ground's your own, my braves!'"</p>
+
+<p>"We're ready for anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo! Beware of the enemy's strategy, and fight hard. Fight as
+if&mdash;ah! your Aunt Millicent's coming."</p>
+
+<p>At one o'clock the first division returned and relieved the garrison;
+and at two every soldier was back and in his place. The breast-works<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+were strengthened, more ammunition was made, and heaps of raw material
+for making still more were conveniently placed. But the enemy did not
+put in an appearance. A half hour went by, and another half hour, and
+the head of the first hostile soldier was yet to be seen approaching
+above the crest of the hill. Crowds of small boys, non-combatants,
+were lined up against the school-house, awaiting, with anxiety and
+awe, the coming battle. Out in the road a group of girls, partisans of
+the Hilltops, was assembled to cheer their friends on to victory. Men,
+passing by on foot and with teams, stopped to inquire concerning the
+war-like preparations, and some of them, on whose hands it may be that
+time was hanging heavily, stood around awaiting the outbreak of
+hostilities.</p>
+
+<p>Still the enemy was nowhere in sight. A squad, under command of
+Lieutenant Cuddeback, was sent out to the road to reconnoiter. They
+returned and reported that they had been to the brow of the hill, but
+had failed to discover any hostile troops. Was it possible that the
+Riverbeds had weakened, backed out, de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>cided, like the cowards that
+they were, not to fight, after all? It was in the midst of an animated
+discussion over this possibility that the defenders of the fort were
+startled by piercing yells from the neighborhood of the stone fence
+that bounded the school-house lot in the rear. Looking in that
+direction they were thunderstruck to see the enemy's soldiers pouring
+over the wall and advancing vigorously toward them. With rare strategy
+the Riverbeds, instead of approaching by the front, had come up the
+hill on the back road, crept along under cover of barns and fences
+until the school-house lot was reached, and now, with terrific shouts,
+were crossing the stone-wall to hurl themselves impetuously on the
+foe.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment consternation reigned within the fort. The surprise was
+overwhelming. Pen was the first one, as he should have been, to
+recover his wits. He remembered his grandfather's warning against the
+enemy's strategy.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a trick!" he shouted. "Don't let 'em scare you! Load up and at
+'em!"</p>
+
+<p>Every boy seized his complement of snow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>balls, and, led by their
+captain, the Hilltops started out, on double-quick, to meet the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>The next moment the air was filled with flying missiles. They were
+fired at close range, and few, from either side, failed to find their
+mark.</p>
+
+<p>The battle was swift and fierce. An onslaught from the Riverbeds'
+left, drove the right wing of the Hilltops back into the shadow of the
+fort. But the center held its ground and fought furiously. Then the
+broken right wing, supplied with fresh ammunition from the reserve
+piles, rallied, forced the invaders back, turned their flank, and fell
+on them from the rear. The Riverbeds, with ammunition all but
+exhausted, were hard beset. They fought bravely and persistently but
+they could not stand up before the terrific rain of missiles that was
+poured in on them. They yielded, they retreated, but they went with
+their faces to the foe. There was only one avenue of escape, and that
+was down by the side of the school-house to the public road. It was
+inch by inch that they withdrew. No army ever beat a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> more stubborn or
+masterly retreat. In the face of certain defeat, at scarcely arm's
+length from their shouting and exultant foe, they fought like heroes.</p>
+
+<p>Pen Butler was in the thickest and hottest of the fray. He urged his
+troops to the assault, and was not afraid to lead them. The militant
+blood of his ancestors burned in his veins, and, if truth must be
+told, it trickled in little streams down his face from a battered nose
+and a cut lip received at a close quarter's struggle with the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>The small boys by the school-house, seeing the line of battle
+approaching them, beat a retreat to a less hazardous position. The
+girls in the road clung to each other and looked on, fascinated and
+awe-stricken at the furious fight, forgetting to wave a single
+handkerchief, or emit a single cheer. The men on the side-path clapped
+their hands and yelled encouragement to one or other of the contending
+forces, in accordance with their sympathies.</p>
+
+<p>The first of the retreating troops, still contesting stubbornly the
+foe's advance, reached the corner of the school-house nearest the
+public<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> road. By some chance the entrance door of the building was
+ajar. A soldier's quick eye discovered it. Here was shelter,
+protection, a chance to recuperate and reform. He shouted the good
+news to his comrades, pushed the door open and entered. By twos and
+threes, and then in larger groups, they followed him until the very
+last man of them was safe inside, and the door was slammed shut and
+locked in the faces of the foe. Under the impetus of the charge the
+victorious troops broke against the barrier, but it held firm. That it
+did so hold was one of the providential occurrences of the day. So, at
+last, the Hilltops were foiled and baffled. Their victory was not
+complete. Pen stood on the top step at the entrance, his face smeared
+with blood, and angrily declared his determination, by one means or
+another, to hunt the enemy out from their place of shelter, and drive
+them down the hill into their own riverbed, where they belonged. But,
+in spite of his extravagant declaration, nothing could be done without
+a breach of the law. Doors and windows must not be broken.
+Temporarily, at least, the enemy was safe.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>After a consultation among the Hilltops it was decided to take up a
+position across the road from the school-house, and await the
+emergence of the foe. But the foe appeared to be in no haste to
+emerge. It was warm inside. They were safe from attack. They could
+take their ease and wait. And they did. The minutes passed. A half
+hour went by. A drizzling rain had set in, and the young soldiers at
+the roadside were getting uncomfortably wet. The small boys, who had
+looked on, departed by twos and threes. The girls, after cheering the
+heroes of the fight, also sought shelter. The men, who had been
+interested spectators while the battle was on, drifted away. It isn't
+encouraging to stand out in the rain, doing nothing but stamping wet
+feet, and wait for a beaten foe to come out. Enthusiasm for a cause is
+apt to wane when one has to stand, shivering, in rain-soaked clothes,
+and wait for something to occur. And enthusiasm did wane. A majority
+of the boys wanted to call it a victory and go home. But Pen would not
+listen to such a proposal.</p>
+
+<p>"They've run into the school-house," he said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> "like whipped dogs, and
+locked the door; and now, if we go home, they'll come out and boast
+that we were afraid to meet 'em again. They'll say that we slunk away
+before the fight was half over. I won't let 'em say that. I'll stay
+here all night but what I'll give 'em the final drubbing."</p>
+
+<p>But his comrades were not equally determined. The war spirit seemed to
+have died out in their breasts, and, try as he would, Pen was not able
+to restore it.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, even as he argued, the school-house door opened and the besieged
+army marched forth. They marched forth, indeed, but this time they had
+an American flag at the head of their column. It was carried by, and
+folded and draped around the body of, Alexander Sands. It was the flag
+that Colonel Butler had given to the school. Whose idea it was to use
+it thus has never been disclosed. But surely no more effective means
+could have been adopted to cover an orderly retreat. The Hilltop
+forces stared at the spectacle in amazement and stood silent in their
+tracks. Pen was the first to recover his senses. If he had been angry
+when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> the enemy came upon them unawares from the stone-wall, he was
+furious now.</p>
+
+<p>"It's another trick!" he cried, "a mean, contemptible trick! They
+think the flag'll save 'em but it won't! Come on! We'll show 'em!"</p>
+
+<p>He started toward the advancing column, firing his first snowball as
+he went; a snowball that flattened and spattered against the
+flag-covered breast of Aleck Sands. But his soldiers did not follow
+him. No leader, however magnetic, could have induced them to assault a
+body of troops marching under the protecting folds of the American
+flag. They revered the colors, and they stood fast in their places.
+Pen leaped the ditch, and, finding himself alone, stopped to look
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" he cried. "Are you all afraid?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the flag," answered Elmer Cuddeback, "and I won't fight anybody
+that carries it."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I," said Jimmie Morrissey.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I;" "Nor I," echoed one after another.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>Then, indeed, Pen's temper went to fever heat. He faced his own troops
+and denounced them.</p>
+
+<p>"Traitors!" he yelled. "Cowards! every one of you! To be scared by a
+mere piece of bunting! Babies! Go home and have your mothers put you
+to bed! I'll fight 'em single-handed!"</p>
+
+<p>He was as good as his word. He plunged toward the head of the column,
+which had already reached the middle of the public road.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you dare to touch the flag!" cried Aleck.</p>
+
+<p>"And don't you dare to tell me what I shall not touch," retorted Pen.
+"Drop it, or I'll tear it off of you."</p>
+
+<p>But Aleck only drew the folds more tightly about him and braced
+himself for the onset. He clutched the staff with one hand; and the
+other hand, duly clenched, he thrust into his adversary's face. For a
+moment Pen was staggered by the blow, then he gathered himself
+together and leaped upon his opponent. The fight was on: fast and
+furious. The followers of each leader, appalled at the fierce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>ness of
+the combat, stood as though frozen in their places. The flag, clutched
+by both fighters, was in danger of being torn from end to end. Then
+came the clinch. Gripping, writhing, twisting, tangled in the colors,
+the lithe young bodies wavered to their fall. And when they fell the
+flag fell with them, into the grime and slush of the road. In an
+instant Pen was on his feet again, but Aleck did not rise. He pulled
+himself slowly to his elbow and looked around him as though
+half-dazed.</p>
+
+<p>That Pen was the victor there was no doubt. His face streaked with
+blood and distorted with passion, he stood there and glared
+triumphantly on friend and foe alike. That he was standing on the flag
+mattered little to him in that moment. He was like one crazed. Some
+one shouted to him:</p>
+
+<p>"Get off the flag! You're standing on it!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's that to you?" he yelled back. "I'll stand where I like!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the flag of your country. Get off of it!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do I care for my country or for you. I've won this fight,
+single-handed, in spite of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> any flag, or any country, or any coward
+here, and I'll stand where I choose!"</p>
+
+<p>He stood fast in his place and glared defiantly about him, and in all
+the company there was not one who dared approach him.</p>
+
+<p>But it was only for a moment. Some impulse moved him to look down.
+Under his heels the white stars on their blue field were being ground
+into the mire. A sudden revulsion of feeling swept over him, a sense
+of horror at his own conduct. His arms fell to his sides. His face
+paled till the blood splashes on it stood out startlingly distinct. He
+moved slowly and carefully backward till the folds of the banner were
+no longer under his feet. He cast one fleeting glance at his worsted
+adversary who was still half-lying, half-sitting, with the flag under
+his elbows, then, his passion quenched, shame and remorse over his
+unpatriotic conduct filling his heart, without another word he turned
+his back on his companions, thrust his bleeding hands into his
+pockets, and started up the road, toward home; his one thought being
+to leave as quickly and quietly as possible the scene of his disgrace.
+No one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> followed him, no one called after him; he went alone. He was
+hatless and ragged. His rain-soaked garments clung to him with an
+indescribable chill. The fire of his anger had burned itself out, and
+had left in its place the ashes of despondency and despair. Yet, even
+in that hour of depression and self-accusation, he did not dream of
+the far-reaching consequences of this one unpremeditated act of
+inexcusable folly of which he had just been guilty. He bent down and
+gathered some wet snow into his hands and bathed his face, and sopped
+it half dry with his handkerchief, already soaked. Then, not caring,
+in his condition, to show himself on the main street of the village,
+he crossed over to the lane that skirted the out-lots, and went thence
+by a circuitous and little traveled route, to Bannerhall.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, back in the road by the school-house, Aleck Sands had
+picked himself up, still a little dazed, but not seriously hurt, and
+soldiers who had recently faced each other in battle came with
+unanimity to the rescue of the flag. Hilltops and Riverbeds alike, all
+differences and enmities forgotten in this new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> crisis, they joined in
+gathering up the wet and muddy folds, and in bearing them to the
+warmth and shelter of the school-house. Here they washed out the
+stains, and stretched the banner out to dry, and at dusk, exhausted
+and sobered by the events of the day, with serious faces and
+apprehensive hearts, they went to their several homes.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Pen reached home on that afternoon after the battle of Chestnut
+Hill, he found that his Aunt Millicent was out, and that his
+grandfather had not yet returned from Lowbridge, the county seat,
+fourteen miles away. He had therefore an opportunity, unseen and
+unquestioned, to change his wet clothing for dry, and to bathe and
+anoint and otherwise care for his cuts and bruises. When it was all
+done he went down to the library and lighted the gas, and found a book
+and tried to read. But the words he read were meaningless. Try as he
+would he could not keep his mind on the printed page. Nor was it so
+much the snowball fight that occupied his thoughts. He was not now
+exulting at any victory he had obtained over his foes. He was not even
+dwelling on the strategy and trickery displayed by Aleck Sands and his
+followers in seeking protection under the folds of the flag; strategy
+and trick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>ery which had led so swiftly and sharply to his own undoing.
+It was his conduct in that last, fierce moment of the fight that was
+blazoned constantly before his eyes with ever increasing strength of
+accusation. To think that he, Penfield Butler, grandson of the owner
+of Bannerhall, had permitted himself, in a moment of passion, no
+matter what the provocation, to grind his country's flag into the
+slush under his heels; the very flag given by his grandfather to the
+school of which he was himself a member. How should he ever square
+himself with Colonel Richard Butler? How should he ever make it right
+with Miss Grey? How should he ever satisfy his own accusing
+conscience? Excuses for his conduct were plenty enough indeed; his
+excitement, his provocation, his freedom from malice; he marshalled
+them in orderly array; but, under the cold logic of events, one by one
+they crumbled and fell away. More and more heavily, more and more
+depressingly the enormity of his offense weighed upon him as he
+considered it, and what the outcome of it all would be he did not even
+dare to conjecture.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>At half past five his Aunt Millicent returned. She looked in at him
+from the hall, greeted him pleasantly, said something about the
+miserable weather, and then went on about her household duties.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner had been waiting for fifteen minutes before Colonel Butler
+reached home, and, in the mild excitement attendant upon his return,
+Pen's injuries escaped notice. But, at the dinner-table, under the
+brightness of the hanging lamps, he could no longer conceal his
+condition. Aunt Millicent was the first to discover it.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Pen!" she exclaimed, "what on earth has happened to you?"</p>
+
+<p>And Pen answered, frankly enough:</p>
+
+<p>"I've been in a snowball fight, Aunt Milly."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I should say so!" she replied. "Your face is a perfect sight.
+Father, just look at Pen's face."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler adjusted his eye-glasses deliberately, and looked as he
+was bidden to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Some rather severe contusions," he remarked. "A bit painful,
+Penfield?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>"Not so very," replied Pen, "I washed 'em off and put on some Pond's
+extract, and some court-plaster, and I guess they'll be all right."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel was still looking at Pen's wounds, and smiling as he
+looked.</p>
+
+<p>"The nature of the injuries," he said, "indicates that the fighting
+must have been somewhat strenuous. But honorable scars, won on the
+field of battle, are something in which any man may take pardonable&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Father Richard Butler!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "Aren't you ashamed
+of yourself! Pen, let this be the last snowball fight you indulge in
+while you live in this house. Do you hear me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Aunt Millicent. There won't be any more; not any more at all."</p>
+
+<p>"I should hope not," she replied; "with such a looking face as you've
+got."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler was temporarily subdued. Only the merry twinkle in his
+eyes, and the smile that hovered about the corners of his mouth, still
+attested the satisfaction he was feeling in his grandson's military
+prowess. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> could not, however, restrain his curiosity until the end
+of the meal, and, at the risk of evoking another rebuke from his
+daughter, he inquired of Pen:</p>
+
+<p>"A&mdash;Penfield, may I ask in which direction the tide of battle finally
+turned?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe we licked 'em, grandfather," replied Pen. "We drove 'em
+into the school-house anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"Not, I presume, before some severe preliminary fighting had taken
+place?"</p>
+
+<p>"There you go again, father!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "It's nothing
+but 'fighting, fighting,' from morning to night. What kind of a man do
+you think Pen will grow up to be, with such training as this?"</p>
+
+<p>"A very useful, brave and patriotic citizen, I hope, my dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Fiddlesticks!" It was Aunt Millicent's favorite ejaculation. But the
+colonel did not refer to the battle again at the table. It was not
+until after he had retired to the library, and had taken up his
+favorite position, his back to the fire, his eyes resting on the
+silken banner in the hall, that he plied Pen with further ques<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>tions.
+His daughter not being in the room he felt that he might safely resume
+the subject of the fight.</p>
+
+<p>"I would like a full report of the battle, Penfield," he said. "It
+appears to me that it is likely to go down as a most important event
+in the history of the school."</p>
+
+<p>Pen shook his head deprecatingly, but he did not at once reply.
+Impatient at the delay, which he ascribed to the modesty
+characteristic of the brave and successful soldier, the colonel began
+to make more definite inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>"In what manner was the engagement opened, Penfield?"</p>
+
+<p>And Pen replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know we built a snow fort in the school-house lot; and they
+sneaked up the back road, and cut across lots where we couldn't see
+'em, and jumped on us suddenly from the stone-wall."</p>
+
+<p>"Strategy, my boy. Military strategy deserving of a good cause. And
+how did you meet the attack?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, we pulled ourselves together and went for 'em."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>"Well? Well? What happened?"</p>
+
+<p>The colonel was getting excited and impatient.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we fought 'em and drove 'em down to the front of the
+school-house, and then they opened the door and sneaked in, just as I
+told you, and locked us out."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! more strategy. The enemy had brains. But you should have laid
+siege and starved him out."</p>
+
+<p>"We did lay siege, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>"And did you starve him out?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, they came out."</p>
+
+<p>"And you renewed the attack?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some of us did."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, go on! go on! What happened? Don't compel me to drag the story
+out of you piecemeal, this way."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, they&mdash;they played us another mean trick."</p>
+
+<p>"What was the nature of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;you know that flag you gave the school?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"They carried that flag ahead of 'em, Aleck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> Sands had it wrapped
+around him, and then&mdash;our fellows were afraid to fight."</p>
+
+<p>"Strategy again. Military genius, indeed! But it strikes me, Penfield,
+that the strategy was a bit unworthy."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it was a low-down trick."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;a&mdash;let us say that it was not the act of a brave and generous
+foe. The flag&mdash;the flag, Penfield, should be used for purposes of
+inspiration rather than protection. However, the enemy, having placed
+himself under the auspices and protection of the flag which should, in
+any event, be unassailable, I presume he marched away in safety and
+security?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, no&mdash;not exactly."</p>
+
+<p>"Penfield, I trust that no one had the hardihood to assault the bearer
+of his country's flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather, I couldn't help it. He made me mad."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tell me, sir, that you so far forgot yourself as to lead an
+attack on the colors?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I didn't. I pitched into him alone. I had to lick him, flag or no
+flag."</p>
+
+<p>"Penfield, I'm astounded! I wouldn't have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> thought it of you. And what
+happened, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, we clinched and went down."</p>
+
+<p>"But, the flag? the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"That went down too."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler left his place at the fire-side and crossed over to the
+table where Pen sat, in order that he might look directly down on him.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I to understand," he said, "that the colors of my country have
+been wantonly trailed in the mire of the street?"</p>
+
+<p>Under the intensity of that look, and the trembling severity of that
+voice, Pen wilted and shrank into the depths of his cushioned chair.
+He could only gasp:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid so, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>After that, for a full minute, there was silence in the room. When the
+colonel again spoke his voice was low and tremulous. It was evident
+that his patriotic nature had been deeply stirred.</p>
+
+<p>"In what manner," he asked, "was the flag rescued and restored to its
+proper place?"</p>
+
+<p>And Pen answered truthfully:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. I came away."</p>
+
+<p>The boy was still sunk deep in his chair, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> hands were desperately
+clutching the arms of it, and on his pale face the wounds and bruises
+stood out startlingly distinct.</p>
+
+<p>In the colonel's breast grief and indignation were rapidly giving way
+to wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"And so," he added, his voice rising with every word, "you added
+insult to injury; and having forced the nation's banner to the earth,
+you deliberately turned your back on it and came away?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen did not answer. He could not.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," repeated the colonel, "you deliberately turned your back on
+it, and came away?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler crossed back to the fire-place, and then he strode into
+the hall. He put on his hat and was struggling into his overcoat when
+his daughter came in from the dining-room and discovered him.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, father!" she exclaimed, "where are you going?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am going," he replied, "to perform a patriotic duty."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't go out again to-night," she pleaded. "You've had a hard
+trip to-day, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> you're tired. Let Pen do your errand. Pen, come
+here!"</p>
+
+<p>The boy came at her bidding. The colonel paused to consider.</p>
+
+<p>"On second thought," he said, finally, "it may be better that I should
+not go in person. Penfield, you will go at once, wherever it may be
+necessary, and inquire as to the present condition and location of the
+American flag belonging to the Chestnut Hill school, and return and
+report to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Pen put on his hat and coat, took his umbrella, and went out into the
+rain. Six blocks away he stopped at Elmer Cuddeback's door and rang
+the bell. Elmer himself came in answer to the ring.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out on the porch a minute," said Pen. "I want to speak to you."</p>
+
+<p>Elmer came out and closed the door behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me," continued Pen, "what became of the flag this afternoon,
+after I left."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we picked it up and carried it into the school-house. Why?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>"My grandfather wants to know."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you can tell him it isn't hurt much. It got tore a little bit
+in one corner; and it had some dirt on it. But we cleaned her up, and
+dried her out, and put her back in her place."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you for doing it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's all right. But, say, Pen, I'm sorry for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"On account of what happened."</p>
+
+<p>"Did I hurt Aleck much?"</p>
+
+<p>A sudden fear of worse things had entered Pen's mind.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not much. He limped home by himself."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen knew, well enough, what it was; but he could not do otherwise than
+ask.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's because of what you did to the flag. Everybody's talking
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Let 'em talk. I don't care."</p>
+
+<p>But he did care, nevertheless. He went back home in a fever of
+apprehension and anxiety. Suppose his grandfather should learn the
+whole truth, as, sooner or later he surely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> would. What then? Pen
+decided that it would be better to tell him now.</p>
+
+<p>At eight o'clock, when he returned home, he found Colonel Butler still
+seated in the library, busy with a book. He removed his cap and coat
+in the hall, and went in. The colonel looked up inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"The flag," reported Pen, "was picked up by the boys, and carried back
+to the school-house. It was cleaned and dried, and put in its proper
+place."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir; that is all."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel turned his attention again to his book.</p>
+
+<p>Pen stood, for a moment, irresolute, before proceeding with his
+confession. Then he began:</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather, I'm very sorry for what occurred, and especially&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not care to hear any more to-night. Further apologies may be
+deferred to a more appropriate time."</p>
+
+<p>Again the colonel resumed his reading.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was Sunday; but, on account of the unattractive
+appearance of his face, Pen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> was excused from attending either church
+or Sunday-school. Monday was Washington's birthday, and a holiday, and
+there was no school. So that Pen had two whole days in which to
+recover from his wounds. But he did not so easily recover from his
+depression. Nothing more had been said by Colonel Butler about the
+battle, and Pen, on his part, did not dare again to broach the
+subject. Yet every hour that went by was filled with apprehension, and
+punctuated with false alarms. It was evident that the colonel had not
+yet heard the full story, and it was just as evident that the portion
+of it that he had heard had disturbed him almost beyond precedent. He
+was taciturn in speech, and severe and formal in manner. To misuse and
+neglect the flag of his country was, indeed, no venial offense in his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Pen had not been out all day Monday, save to go on one or two
+unimportant errands for his aunt. Why he had not cared to go out was
+not quite clear, even to himself. Ordinarily he would have sought his
+schoolfellows, and would have exhibited his wounds, these silent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> and
+substantial witnesses of his personal prowess, with "pardonable
+pride." Nor did his schoolfellows come to seek him. That was strange
+too. Why had they not dropped in, as was their custom, to talk over
+the battle? It was almost dark of the second day, and not a single boy
+had been to see him or inquire for him. It was more than strange; it
+was ominous.</p>
+
+<p>After the evening meal Colonel Butler went out; a somewhat unusual
+occurrence, as, in his later years, he had become increasingly fond of
+his books and papers, his wood-fire and his easy chair. But, on this
+particular evening, there was to be a meeting of a certain patriotic
+society of which he was an enthusiastic member, and he felt that he
+must attend it. After he had gone Pen tried to study, but he could not
+keep his thought on his work. Then he took up a stirring piece of
+fiction and began to read: but the most exciting scenes depicted in it
+floated hazily across his mind. His Aunt Millicent tried to engage him
+in conversation, but he either could not or did not wish to talk. At
+nine o'clock he said good-night to his aunt,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> and retired to his room.
+At half past nine Colonel Butler returned home. His daughter went into
+the hall and greeted him and helped him off with his coat, but he
+scarcely spoke to her. When he came in under the brighter lights of
+the library, she saw that his face was haggard, his jaws set, and his
+eyes strangely bright.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, father?" she said. "Something has happened."</p>
+
+<p>He did not reply to her question, but he asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Has Penfield retired?"</p>
+
+<p>"He went to his room a good half hour ago, father."</p>
+
+<p>"I desire to see him."</p>
+
+<p>"He may have gone to bed."</p>
+
+<p>"I desire to see him under any circumstances. You will please
+communicate my wish to him."</p>
+
+<p>"But, father&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear me, daughter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Father! What terrible thing has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"A thing so terrible that I desire confirma<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>tion of it from Penfield's
+lips before I shall fully believe it. You will please call him."</p>
+
+<p>She could not disobey that command. She went tremblingly up the stairs
+and returned in a minute or two to say:</p>
+
+<p>"Pen had not yet gone to bed, father. He will be down as soon as he
+puts on his coat and shoes."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler seated himself in his accustomed chair and awaited the
+advent of his grandson.</p>
+
+<p>When Pen entered the library a few minutes later, his Aunt Millicent
+was still in the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Millicent," said the colonel, "will you be good enough to retire for
+a time? I wish to speak to Penfield alone."</p>
+
+<p>She rose and started toward the hall, but turned back again.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," she said, "if Pen is to be reprimanded for anything he has
+done, I wish to know about it."</p>
+
+<p>"This is a matter," replied the colonel, severely, "that can be
+adjusted only between Penfield and me."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>She saw that he was determined, and left the room.</p>
+
+<p>When the rustle attendant upon her ascent of the staircase had died
+completely out, the colonel turned toward Pen. He spoke quietly
+enough, but with an emotion that was plainly suppressed.</p>
+
+<p>"Penfield, you may stand where you are and answer certain questions
+that I shall ask you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>"While in attendance this evening, upon a meeting of gentlemen
+gathered for a patriotic purpose, I was told that you, Penfield
+Butler, had, on Saturday last, on the school-house grounds, trodden
+deliberately on the American flag lying in the slush of the street. Is
+the story true, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, grandfather, it was this way. I was&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I desire, sir, a categorical reply. Did you, or did you not, stand
+upon the American flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; I believe I did."</p>
+
+<p>"I am also credibly informed that you spoke disdainfully of this
+particular American flag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> as a mere piece of bunting? Did you use
+those words?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what I said, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible that you could have spoken thus disrespectfully of
+your country's flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is possible; yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I am further informed that, on the same occasion, in language of
+which I have no credible report, you expressed your contempt for your
+country herself. Is my information correct?"</p>
+
+<p>"I may have done so."</p>
+
+<p>Pen felt himself growing weak and unsteady under this fire of
+questions, and he moved forward a little and grasped the back of a
+chair for support. The colonel, paying no heed to the boy's pitiable
+condition, went on with his examination.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then, sir," he said, "if you have any explanation to offer you
+may give it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, grandfather, I was very angry at the use they'd put the flag
+to, and I&mdash;well, I didn't just know what I was doing."</p>
+
+<p>Pen's voice had died away almost to a whisper.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>"And that," said the colonel, "is your only excuse?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. Except that I didn't mean it; not any of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you didn't mean it. If you had meant it, it would have been
+a crime instead of a gross offense. But the fact remains that, in the
+heat of passion, without forethought, without regard to your patriotic
+ancestry, you have wantonly defamed your country and heaped insults on
+her flag."</p>
+
+<p>Pen tried to speak, but he could not. He clung to the back of his
+chair and stood mute while the colonel went on:</p>
+
+<p>"My paternal grandfather, sir, fought valiantly in the army of General
+Putnam in the Revolutionary war, and my maternal grandfather was an
+aide to General Washington. My father helped to storm the heights of
+Chapultepec in 1847 under that invincible commander, General Worth. I,
+myself, shared the vicissitudes of the Army of the Potomac, through
+three years of the civil war. And now it has come to this, that my
+grandson has trodden under his feet the flag for which his gal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>lant
+ancestors fought, and has defamed the country for which they shed
+their blood."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel's voice had risen as he went on, until now, vibrant with
+emotion, it echoed through the room. He rose from his chair and began
+pacing up and down the library floor.</p>
+
+<p>Still Pen stood mute. Even if he had had the voice to speak there was
+nothing more that he could say. It seemed to him that it was hours
+that his grandfather paced the floor, and it was a relief to have him
+stop and speak again, no matter what he should say.</p>
+
+<p>"I have decided," said the colonel, "that you shall apologize for your
+offense. It is the least reparation that can be made. Your apology
+will be in public, at your school, and will be directed to your
+teacher, to your country, to your flag, and to Master Sands who was
+bearing the colors at the time of the assault."</p>
+
+<p>Before his teacher, his country and his flag, Pen would have been
+willing to humble himself into the dust. But, to apologize to Aleck
+Sands!</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler did not wait for a reply, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> sat down at his desk and
+arranged his materials for writing.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall communicate my purpose to Miss Grey," he said, "in a letter
+which you will take to her to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>Then, for the first time in many minutes, Pen found his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather, I shall be glad to apologize to Miss Grey, and to my
+country, and to the flag, but is it necessary for me to apologize to
+Aleck Sands?"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler swung around in his swivel-chair, and faced the boy
+almost savagely:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you presume, sir," he exclaimed, "to dictate the conditions of
+your pardon? I have fixed the terms. They shall be complied with to
+the letter&mdash;to the letter, sir. And if you refuse to abide by them you
+will be required to withdraw to the home of your maternal grandfather,
+where, I have no doubt, your conduct will be disregarded if not
+approved. But I will not harbor, under the roof of Bannerhall, a
+person who has been guilty of such disloyalty as yours, and who
+declines to apologize for his offense."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>Having delivered himself of this ultimatum, the colonel again turned
+to his writing-desk and proceeded to prepare his letter to Miss Grey.
+Apparently it did not occur to him that his demand, thus definitely
+made, might still be refused.</p>
+
+<p>After what seemed to Pen to be an interminable time, his grandfather
+ceased writing, laid aside his pen, and turned toward him holding a
+written sheet from which he read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p class="letter_header">"<span class="letter_address">Bannerhall, Chestnut Hill, Pa.</span><br />
+February 22.</p>
+
+<p>"<em>My dear Miss Grey</em>:</p>
+
+<p>"It is with the deepest regret that I have to advise you that my
+grandson, Penfield Butler, on Saturday last, by his own
+confession, dishonored the colors belonging to your school, and
+made certain derogatory remarks concerning his country and his
+flag, for which offenses he desires now to make reparation. Will
+you therefore kindly permit him, at the first possible
+opportunity, to apologize for his reprehensible conduct, publicly,
+to his teacher, to his country and to his flag, and especially to
+Master Alexander Sands, the bearer of the flag, who, though not
+without fault in the matter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> was, nevertheless, at the time,
+under the protection of the colors.</p>
+
+<p>"Master Butler will report to me the fulfillment of this request.
+With personal regards and apologies, I remain,</p>
+
+<p><span class="letter_indent_13">"Your obed<span class="super">t</span> servant,</span><br />
+<span class="letter_indent_20">"<span class="personname">Richard Butler</span>."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>He folded the letter, placed it in an envelope, and handed it to Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"You will deliver this to Miss Grey," he said, "on your arrival at
+school to-morrow morning. That is all to-night. You may retire."</p>
+
+<p>Pen took the letter, thanked his grandfather, bade him good-night,
+turned and went out into the hall, and up-stairs to his room.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h3>
+
+
+<p>It is little wonder that Pen passed a sleepless night, after the
+interview with his grandfather. He realized now, perhaps better than
+any one else, the seriousness of his offense. Knowing, so well as he
+did, Colonel Butler's reverence for all things patriotic, he did not
+wonder that he should be so deeply indignant. Pen, himself, felt that
+the least he could do, under the circumstances, was to publicly
+apologize for his conduct, bitter and humiliating as it would be to
+make such an apology. And he was willing to apologize to any one, to
+anything&mdash;save Alexander Sands. To this point of reparation he could
+not bring himself. This was the problem with which he struggled
+through the night hours. It was not a question, he told himself, over
+and over again, of whether he should leave Bannerhall, with its ease
+and luxury and choice traditions, and go to live on the little farm at
+Cobb's Corners.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> It was a question of whether he was willing to yield
+his self-respect and manhood to the point of humbling himself before
+Alexander Sands. It was not until he heard the clock in the hall
+strike three that he reached his decision.</p>
+
+<p>And his decision was, to comply, in full, with his grandfather's
+demand&mdash;and remain at Bannerhall.</p>
+
+<p>At the breakfast table the next morning Colonel Butler was still
+reticent and taciturn. He had passed an uncomfortable night and was in
+no mood for conversation. He did not refer, in any way, to the matters
+which had been discussed the evening before; and when Pen, with the
+letter in his pocket, started for school, the situation was entirely
+unchanged. But, somehow, in the freshness of the morning, under the
+cheerful rays of an unclouded sun, the task that had been set for Pen
+did not seem to him to be quite so difficult and repulsive as it had
+seemed the night before. He even deigned to whistle as he went down
+the path to the street. But he noticed, as he passed along through the
+business section of the town, that people whom he knew looked at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> him
+curiously, and that those who spoke to him did so with scant courtesy.
+Across the street, from the corner of his eye, he saw one man call
+another man's attention to him, and both men turned their heads, for a
+moment, to watch him. A little farther along he caught sight of Elmer
+Cuddeback, his bosom companion, a half block ahead, and he called out
+to him:</p>
+
+<p>"Hey! Elmer, wait a minute!"</p>
+
+<p>But Elmer did not wait. He looked back to see who had called to him,
+and then he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"I can't! I got to catch up with Jimmie Morrissey."</p>
+
+<p>And he started off on a run. This was the cut direct. There was no
+mistaking it. It sent a new fear to Pen's heart. It served to explain
+why his schoolfellows had not been to see him and sympathize with him.
+He had not before fully considered what effect his conduct of the
+previous Saturday might have upon those who had been his best friends.
+But Elmer's action was suspiciously expressive. It was more than that,
+it was ominous and forbidding. Pen trudged on alone. A group of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> a
+half dozen boys who had heretofore recognized him as their leader,
+turned a corner into Main street, and went down on the other side. He
+did not call to them, nor did they pay any attention to him, except
+that, once or twice, some of them looked back, apparently to see
+whether he was approaching them. But his ears burned. He knew they
+were discussing his fault.</p>
+
+<p>In the school-house yard another group of boys was gathered. They were
+so earnestly engaged in conversation that they did not notice Pen's
+approach until he was nearly on them. Then one of them gave a low
+whistle and instantly the talking ceased.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, fellows!" Pen made his voice and manner as natural and easy as
+determined effort could make them.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three of them answered "Hello!" in an indifferent way;
+otherwise none of them spoke to him.</p>
+
+<p>If the battle of Chestnut Hill had ended when the enemy had been
+driven into the school-house, and if the conquering troops had then
+gone home proclaiming their victory, these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> same boys who were now
+treating him with such cold indifference, would have been flinging
+their arms about his shoulders this morning, and proclaiming him to
+the world as a hero; and Pen knew it. With flushed face and sinking
+heart he turned away and entered the school-house.</p>
+
+<p>Aleck Sands was already there, sitting back in a corner, surrounded by
+sympathizing friends. He still bore marks of the fray.</p>
+
+<p>As Pen came in some one in the group said:</p>
+
+<p>"Here he comes now."</p>
+
+<p>Another one added:</p>
+
+<p>"Hasn't he got the nerve though, to show himself after what he done to
+the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>And a third one, not to be outdone, declared:</p>
+
+<p>"Aw! He's a reg'lar Benedic' Arnold."</p>
+
+<p>Pen heard it all, as they had intended he should. He stopped in the
+aisle and faced them. The grief and despair that he had felt outside
+when his own comrades had ignored him, gave place now to a sudden
+blazing up of the old wrath. He did not raise his voice; but every
+word he spoke was alive with anger.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>"You cowardly puppies! You talk about the flag! The only flag you're
+fit to live under is the black flag, with skull and cross-bones on
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned on his heel and marched up the aisle to where Miss Grey
+was seated at her desk. He took Colonel Butler's letter from his
+pocket and handed it to her.</p>
+
+<p>"My grandfather," he said, "wishes me to give you this letter."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him with a grieved and troubled face.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Pen!" she exclaimed, despairingly, "what have you done, and why
+did you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>She was fond of the boy. He was her brightest and most gentlemanly
+pupil. On only one or two other occasions, during the years of her
+authority, had she found it necessary to reprimand him for giving way
+to sudden fits of passion leading to infraction of her rules. So that
+it was with deep and real sorrow that she deplored his recent conduct
+and his present position.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," he answered her. "I guess my temper got the best of
+me, that's all."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>"But, Pen, I don't know what to do. I'm simply at my wit's end."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry to have given you so much trouble, Miss Grey," he replied.
+"But when it comes to punishing me, I think the letter will help you
+out."</p>
+
+<p>The bell had stopped ringing. The boys and girls had crowded in and
+were already seated, awaiting the opening of school. Pen turned away
+from his teacher and started down the aisle toward his seat, facing
+his fellow-pupils as he went.</p>
+
+<p>And then something happened; something unusual and terrible; something
+so terrible that Pen's face went pale, he paused a moment and looked
+ahead of him as though in doubt whether his ears had deceived him, and
+then he dropped weakly into his seat. They had hissed him. From a far
+corner of the room came the first sibilant sound, followed at once by
+a chorus of hisses that struck straight to the boy's heart, and echoed
+through his mind for years.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Grey sprang to her feet. For the first time in all the years she
+had taught them her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> pupils saw her fired with anger. She brought her
+gavel down on the table with a bang.</p>
+
+<p>"This is disgraceful!" she exclaimed. "We are in a school-room, not in
+a goose-pond, nor in a den of snakes. I want every one who has hissed
+to remain here when school closes at noon."</p>
+
+<p>But it was not until after the opening exercises had been concluded,
+and the younger children had gone out to the room of the assistant
+teacher, that she found an opportunity to read Colonel Butler's
+letter. It did help her out, as Pen had said it would. She resolved to
+act immediately upon the request contained in it, before calling any
+classes. She rose in her place.</p>
+
+<p>"I have an unpleasant duty to perform," she said. "I hoped, when I
+gave you boys permission to have the snowball fight, that it would
+result in permanent peace among you. It has, apparently, served only
+to embitter you more deeply against each other. The school colors have
+been removed from the building without authority. With those guilty of
+this offense I shall deal hereafter. The flag has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> been abused and
+thrown into the slush of the street. As to this I shall not now decide
+whose was the greater fault. But one, at least, of those concerned in
+such treatment of our colors has realized the seriousness of his
+misconduct, and desires to apologize for it, to his teacher, to his
+country, to his flag, and to the one who was carrying it at the time
+of the assault. Penfield, you may come to the platform."</p>
+
+<p>But Pen did not stir. He sat there as though made of stone, that awful
+hiss still sounding in his ears. Miss Grey's voice came to him as from
+some great distance. He did not seem to realize what she was saying to
+him. She saw his white face, and the vacant look in his eyes, and she
+pitied him; but she had her duty to perform.</p>
+
+<p>"Penfield," she repeated, "will you please come to the platform? We
+are waiting for your apology."</p>
+
+<p>This time Pen heard her and roused himself. He rose slowly to his
+feet; but he did not move from his place. He spoke from where he
+stood.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Grey," he said, "after what has oc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>curred here this morning, I
+have decided&mdash;not&mdash;to&mdash;apologize."</p>
+
+<p>He bent over, picked up his books from the desk in front of him,
+stepped out into the aisle, walked deliberately down between rows of
+astounded schoolmates to the vestibule, put on his cap and coat, and
+went out into the street.</p>
+
+<p>No one called him back. He would not have gone if any one had. He
+turned his face toward home. Whether or not people looked at him
+curiously as he passed, he neither knew nor cared. He had been hissed
+in public by his schoolfellows. No condemnation could be more severe
+than this, or lead to deeper humiliation. Strong men have quailed
+under this repulsive and terrible form of public disapproval. It is
+little wonder that a mere schoolboy should be crushed by it. That he
+could never go back to Miss Grey's school was perfectly plain to him.
+That, having refused to apologize, he could not remain at Bannerhall,
+was equally certain. One path only remained open to him, and that was
+the snow-filled, country road leading to his grandfather Walker's
+humble abode at Cobb's Corners.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>When he reached home he found that his grandfather and his Aunt
+Millicent had gone down the river road for a sleigh-ride. He did not
+wait to consider anything, for there was really nothing to consider.
+He went up to his room, packed his suit-case with some clothing and a
+few personal belongings, and came down stairs and left his baggage in
+the hall while he went into the library and wrote a letter to his
+grandfather. When it was finished he read it over to himself, aloud:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<em>Dear Grandfather</em>:</p>
+
+<p>"After what happened at school this morning it was impossible for
+me to apologize, and keep any of my self-respect. So I am going to
+Cobb's Corners to live with my mother and Grandpa Walker, as you
+wished. Good-by!</p>
+
+<p><span class="letter_indent_13">"Your affectionate grandson,</span><br />
+<span class="letter_indent_20">"<span class="personname">Penfield Butler</span>."</span></p>
+
+<p>"P. S. Please give my love to Aunt Millicent." </p></div>
+
+<p>He enclosed the letter in an envelope, addressed it, and left it lying
+on the library table. Then he put on his cap and coat, took his
+suit-case, and went out into the sunlight of the winter morning. At
+the entrance gate he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> turned and looked back at Bannerhall, the wide
+lawn, the noble trees, the big brick house with its hospitable porch,
+the window of his own room, facing the street. Something rose in his
+throat and choked him a little, but his eyes were dry as he turned
+away. He knew the road to Cobb's Corners very well indeed. He had made
+frequent visits to his mother there in the summer time. For,
+notwithstanding his forbidding attitude, Colonel Butler recognized the
+instinct that drew mother and child together, and never sought to deny
+it proper expression. But it was hard traveling on the road to-day,
+especially with a burden to carry, and Pen was glad when Henry Cobb, a
+neighbor of Grandpa Walker, came along with horse and sleigh and
+invited him to ride.</p>
+
+<p>It was just after noon when he reached his grandfather's house, and
+the members of the family were at dinner. They looked up in
+astonishment when he entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Pen!" exclaimed his mother, "whatever brings you here to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've come to stay with you awhile, mother," he replied, "if grandpa
+'ll take me in."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>"Of course grandpa 'll take you in."</p>
+
+<p>And then, as mothers will, especially surprised mothers, she fell on
+his neck and kissed him, and smiled through her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I dunno," said Grandpa Walker, facetiously, balancing a
+good-sized morsel of food carefully on the blade of his knife, "that
+depen's on wuther ye're willin' to take pot-luck with us or not."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm willing to take anything with you," replied Pen, "if you'll give
+me a home till I can shift for myself."</p>
+
+<p>He went around the table and kissed his grandmother who had, for
+years, been partially paralyzed, shook hands with his Uncle Joseph and
+Aunt Miranda, and greeted their little brood of offspring cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"What's happened to ye, anyhow?" asked Grandpa Walker when the
+greetings were over and a place had been prepared for Pen at the
+table. "Dick Butler kick ye out; did he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not exactly," was the reply. "But he told me I couldn't stay there
+unless I did a certain thing, and I didn't do it&mdash;I couldn't do
+it&mdash;and so I came away."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>"Jes' so. That's Dick Butler to a T. Ef ye don't give him his own way
+in everything he aint no furder use for ye. Well, eat your dinner now,
+an' tell us about it later."</p>
+
+<p>So Pen ate his dinner. He was hungry, and, for the time being at
+least, the echo of that awful hiss was not ringing in his ears. But
+they would not let him finish eating until he had told them, in
+detail, the cause of his coming. He made the story as brief as
+possible, neither seeking to excuse himself nor to lay the blame on
+others.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," was Grandpa Walker's comment when the recital was finished, "I
+dunno but what ye done all right enough. They ain't one o' them blame
+little scalawags down to Chestnut Valley, but what deserves a good
+thrashin' on gen'al principles. They yell names at me every time I go
+down to mill, an' then cut an' run like blazes 'fore I can git at 'em
+with a hoss-whip. I'm glad somebody's hed the grace to wallop 'em. And
+es for Dick Butler; he's too allfired pompous an' domineerin' for
+anybody to live with, anyhow. Lets on he was a great soldier! Humph!
+I've known him&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>"Hush, father!"</p>
+
+<p>It was Pen's mother who spoke. The old man turned toward her abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't got no call," he said, "to stick up for Dick Butler."</p>
+
+<p>"I know," she replied. "But he's Pen's grandfather, and it isn't nice
+to abuse him in Pen's presence."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mebbe that's so."</p>
+
+<p>He rose from the table, got his pipe from the mantel, filled it and
+lighted it, and went over and deposited his somewhat ponderous body in
+a cushioned chair by the window. Pen's mother and aunt pushed the
+wheel-chair in which Grandma Walker sat, to one side of the room, and
+began to clear the dishes from the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the old man, between his puffs of smoke, "now ye're here,
+what ye goin' to do here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Anything you have for me to do, grandpa," replied Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see's I can send ye to school."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd rather not go to school. I'd rather work&mdash;do chores, anything."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>"All right! I guess we can keep ye from rustin'. They's plenty to do,
+and I ain't so soople as I was at sixty."</p>
+
+<p>He looked the embodiment of physical comfort, with his round, fresh
+face, and the fringe of gray whiskers under his chin, as he sat at
+ease in his big chair by the window, puffing lazily at his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>So Pen stayed. There was no doubt but that he earned his keep. He did
+chores. He chopped wood. He brought water from the well. He fed the
+horse and the cows, the chickens and the pigs. He drove Old Charlie in
+the performance of any work requiring the assistance of a horse. He
+was busy from morning to night. He slept in a cold room, he was up
+before daylight, he was out in all kinds of weather, he did all kinds
+of tasks. There were sore muscles and aching bones, indeed, before he
+had hardened himself to his work; for physical labor was new to him;
+but he never shirked nor complained. Moreover he was treated kindly,
+he had plenty to eat, and he shared in whatever diversions the family
+could afford. Then, too, he had his mother to com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>fort him, to cheer
+him, to sympathize with him, and to be, ever more and more, his
+confidante and companion.</p>
+
+<p>And Grandpa Walker, relieved of nearly all laborious activities about
+the place, much to his enjoyment, spent his time reading, smoking and
+dozing through the days of late winter and early spring, and
+discussing politics and big business in the country store at the
+cross-roads of an evening.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, about the middle of March, as the old man was rousing
+himself from his after-dinner nap, two men drove up to the Walker
+homestead, tied their horse at the gate, came up the path to the house
+and knocked at the door. He, himself, answered the knock.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said in response to their inquiry, "I'm Enos Walker, and I'm
+to hum."</p>
+
+<p>The spokesman of the two was a tall young man with a very black
+moustache and a merry twinkle in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"We're glad to see you, Mr. Walker," he declared. "My name is Hubert
+Morrissey, and the gentleman who is with me is Mr. Frank Campbell.
+We're on a hunting expedition."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>"Perty late in the season fer huntin', ain't it? The law's on most
+everything now."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think the law's on what we're hunting for."</p>
+
+<p>"What ye huntin' fer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Spruce trees."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Spruce trees. Or, rather, one spruce tree."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, ye wouldn't have to shoot so allfired straight to hit one in
+these parts. I've got a swamp full of 'em down here."</p>
+
+<p>"So we understand. But we want a choice one."</p>
+
+<p>"I've got some that can't be beat this side the White mountains."</p>
+
+<p>"We've learned that also. We took the liberty of looking over your
+spruce grove on our way up here."</p>
+
+<p>"Well; they didn't nobody hender ye, did they?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. We found what we were looking for, all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Jes' so. Come in an' set down."</p>
+
+<p>Grandpa Walker moved ponderously from the doorway in which he had been
+standing, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> his comfortable chair by the window, seated himself,
+picked up his pipe from the window-sill, filled it, lighted it and
+began puffing. The two men entered the room, closing the door behind
+them, and found chairs for themselves and occupied them. Then the
+conversation was renewed.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Walker," said Hubert
+Morrissey, "and tell you what we want and why we want it. It is
+proposed to erect a first-class liberty-pole in the school-yard at
+Chestnut Hill. A handsome American flag has already been given to the
+school. The next thing in order of course is the pole. Mr. Campbell
+and I have been authorized to find a spruce tree that will fill the
+bill, buy it, and have it cut and trimmed and hauled to town while the
+snow is still on. It has to be dressed, seasoned, painted, and ready
+to plant by the time the frost goes out, and there isn't a day to
+lose. There, Mr. Walker, that is our errand."</p>
+
+<p>"Jes' so. Found the tree did ye? down in my swamp?"</p>
+
+<p>"We certainly did."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>"Nice tree, is it? What ye was lookin' fer?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's a beauty! Just what we want. I know it isn't just the thing to
+crack up the goods you're trying to buy from the other fellow, but we
+want to be perfectly fair with you, Mr. Walker. We want to pay you
+what the tree is worth. Suppose we go down the hill and look it over,
+and then you can doubtless give us your price on it."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tain't ne'sary to go down an' look it over. I know the tree ye've
+got your eye on."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, sort o' guessed it. It's the one by the corner o' the rail fence
+on the fu'ther side o' the brook as ye go in from the road."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a good guess. It's the very tree. Now then, what about the
+price?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man pulled on his pipe for a moment with rather more than his
+usual vigor, then removed it from his mouth and faced his visitors.</p>
+
+<p>"Want to buy that tree, do ye?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure we want to buy it."</p>
+
+<p>"Cash down, jedgment note, or what?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>The man with the black moustache smiled broadly, showing an even row
+of white teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Cash down," he replied. "Gold, silver or greenbacks as you prefer.
+Every dollar in your hands before an axe touches the tree."</p>
+
+<p>Grandpa Walker inserted the stem of his pipe between his teeth, and
+again lapsed into a contemplative mood. After a moment he broke the
+silence by asking:</p>
+
+<p>"Got the flag, hev ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; we have the flag."</p>
+
+<p>"Might I be so bold as to ask what the flag cost?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was given to the school."</p>
+
+<p>"Air ye tellin' who give it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, there's no secret about it. Colonel Butler gave the flag."</p>
+
+<p>"Dick Butler?"</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Richard Butler; yes."</p>
+
+<p>It was gradually filtering into the mind of Mr. Hubert Morrissey that
+for some reason the owner of the tree was harboring a resentment
+against the giver of the flag. Then he suddenly recalled the fact that
+Mr. Walker was the father of Colonel Butler's daughter-in-law,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> and
+that the relation between the two men had been somewhat strained. But
+Grandpa Walker was now ready with another question:</p>
+
+<p>"Is Colonel Richard Butler a givin' the pole too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, I believe he furnishes the pole also."</p>
+
+<p>"It was him 't sent ye out here a lookin' fer one; was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"He asked us to hunt one up for him, certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"Told ye, when ye found one 't was right, to git it? Not to haggle
+about the price, but git it an' pay fer it? Told ye that, didn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if it wasn't just that it was first cousin to it."</p>
+
+<p>"Jes' so. Well, you go back to Chestnut Hill, an' you go to Colonel
+Richard Butler, an' you tell Colonel Richard Butler that ef he wants
+to buy a spruce tree from Enos Walker of Cobb's Corners, to come here
+an' bargain fer it himself. He'll find me to hum most any day. How's
+the sleighin'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty fair. But, Mr. Walker&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No buts, ner ifs, ner ands. Ye heard what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> I said, an' I stan' by it
+till the crack o' jedgment."</p>
+
+<p>The old man rose, knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put the pipe
+in his vest pocket, stretched himself, and reached for his cap. It was
+plain that he considered the interview at an end. The persuasive Mr.
+Morrissey tried to get a wedge in somewhere to reopen it, but he tried
+in vain. Enos Walker was adamant. So, disappointed and discomfited,
+the emissaries of Colonel Richard Butler bade "good-day," to the
+oracle of Cobb's Corners, and drove back to Chestnut Hill.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h3>
+
+
+<p>On the morning after the interview with Enos Walker, Mr. Morrissey and
+Mr. Campbell went up to Bannerhall to report to Colonel Richard
+Butler. But they went hesitatingly. Indeed, it had been a question in
+their minds whether it would not be wiser to say nothing to Colonel
+Butler concerning their experience at Cobb's Corners, and simply to go
+elsewhere and hunt up another tree. But Mr. Walker's tree was such a
+model of perfection for their purpose, the possibility of finding
+another one that would even approach it in suitability was so
+extremely remote, that the two gentlemen, after serious discussion of
+the question, being well aware of Colonel Butler's idiosyncrasies,
+decided, finally, to put the whole case up to him, and to accept
+cheerfully whatever he might have in store for them. There was one
+chance in a hundred that the colonel, instead of scornfully resenting
+Enos Walker's proposal, might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> take the matter philosophically and
+accept the old man's terms. They thought it better to take that
+chance.</p>
+
+<p>They found Colonel Butler in his office adjoining the library. He was
+in an ordinarily cheerful mood, although the deep shadows under his
+eyes, noticeable only within the last few weeks, indicated that he had
+been suffering either in mind or in body, perhaps in both.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, gentlemen," he said when his visitors were seated; "what about
+the arboreal errand? Did you find a tree?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hubert Morrissey, as he had been the day before, was again,
+to-day, the spokesman for his committee of two.</p>
+
+<p>"We found a tree," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"One in all respects satisfactory I hope?" the colonel inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Eminently satisfactory," was the answer. "In fact a perfect beauty. I
+doubt if it has its equal in this section of the state. Wouldn't you
+say so, Mr. Campbell?"</p>
+
+<p>"I fully agree with you," replied Mr. Campbell. "It's without a peer."</p>
+
+<p>"How will it measure?" inquired the colonel.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>"I should say," responded Mr. Morrissey, "that it will dress up to
+about twelve inches at the base, and will stand about fifty feet to
+the ball on the summit. Shouldn't you say so, Mr. Campbell?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just about," was the reply. "Not an inch under those figures, in my
+judgment."</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" exclaimed the colonel. "Permit me to congratulate you,
+gentlemen. You have performed a distinct public service. You deserve
+the thanks of the entire community."</p>
+
+<p>"But, colonel," said Mr. Morrissey with some hesitation, "we were not
+quite able to close a satisfactory bargain with the owner of the
+tree."</p>
+
+<p>"That is unfortunate, gentlemen. You should not have permitted a few
+dollars to stand in the way of securing your prize. I thought I gave
+you a perfectly free hand to do as you thought best."</p>
+
+<p>"So you did, colonel. But the hitch was not so much over a matter of
+price as over a matter of principle."</p>
+
+<p>"Over a matter of principle? I don't understand you, sir. How could
+any citizen of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> this free country object, as a matter of principle, to
+having his tree converted into a staff from the summit of which the
+emblem of liberty might be flung to the breeze? Especially when he was
+free to name his own price for the tree."</p>
+
+<p>"But he wouldn't name any price."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he refuse to sell?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not exactly; but he wouldn't bargain except on a condition that we
+were unable to meet."</p>
+
+<p>"What condition? Who is the man? Where does he live?"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler was growing plainly impatient over the obstructive
+tactics in which the owner of the tree had indulged.</p>
+
+<p>"He lives," replied Mr. Morrissey, "at Cobb's Corners. His name is
+Enos Walker. His condition is that you go to him in person to bargain
+for the tree. There's the situation, colonel. Now you have it all."</p>
+
+<p>The veteran of the Civil War straightened up in his chair, threw back
+his shoulders, and gazed at his visitors in silence. Surprise, anger,
+contempt; these were the emotions the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> shadows of which successively
+overspread his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen," he said, at last, "are you aware what a preposterous
+proposition you have brought to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is not our proposition, colonel."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it is not, sir. You are simply the bearers of it. Permit me to
+ask you, however, if it is your recommendation that I yield to the
+demand of this crude highwayman of Cobb's Corners?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Mr. Campbell and I have talked the matter over, and, in view of
+the fact that this appears to be the only available tree within easy
+reach, and is so splendidly adapted to our purposes, we have thought
+that possibly you might suggest some method whereby&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen&mdash;" Colonel Butler had risen from his chair and was pacing
+angrily up and down the room. His face was flushed and his fingers
+were working nervously. "Gentlemen&mdash;" he interrupted&mdash;"my fortune is
+at your disposal. Purchase the tree where you will; on the hills of
+Maine, in the swamps of Georgia, on the plains of California. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> do
+not suggest to me, gentlemen; do not dare to suggest to me that I
+yield to the outrageous demand of this person who has made you the
+bearers of his impertinent ultimatum."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Morrissey rose in his turn, followed by Mr. Campbell.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, colonel," said the spokesman. "We will try to procure the
+tree elsewhere. We thought it no more than right to report to you
+first what we had done. That is the situation is it not, Mr.
+Campbell?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is the situation, exactly," assented Mr. Campbell.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel had reached the window in his round of the room, and had
+stopped there.</p>
+
+<p>"That was quite the thing to do, gentlemen," he replied.
+"A&mdash;quite&mdash;the thing&mdash;to do."</p>
+
+<p>He stood gazing intently out through the window at the banks of snow
+settling and wasting under the bright March sunshine. Not that his
+eyes had been attracted to anything in particular on his lawn, but
+that a thought had entered his mind which demanded, for the moment,
+his undivided attention.</p>
+
+<p>His two visitors stood waiting, somewhat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> awkwardly, for him to turn
+again toward them, but he did not do so. At last Mr. Morrissey plucked
+up courage to break in on his host's reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I think we understand you now, colonel," he said. "We'll go
+elsewhere and do the best we can."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler faced away from the window and came back into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, gentlemen," he said. "My mind was temporarily occupied by
+a thought that has come to me in this matter. Upon further
+consideration it occurs to me that it may be expedient for me to yield
+on this occasion to Mr. Walker's request, and visit him in person. In
+the meantime you may suspend operations. I will advise you later of
+the outcome of my plans."</p>
+
+<p>"You are undoubtedly wise, colonel," replied Mr. Morrissey, "to make a
+further effort to secure this particular tree. Wouldn't you say so,
+Mr. Campbell?"</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly!" replied Mr. Campbell with some warmth.</p>
+
+<p>So the matter was left in that way. Colonel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> Butler was to inform his
+agents what, if anything, he had been able to accomplish by means of a
+personal interview with Mr. Walker, always assuming that he should
+finally and definitely decide to seek such an interview. And Mr.
+Hubert Morrissey and Mr. Frank Campbell bowed themselves out of
+Colonel Butler's presence.</p>
+
+<p>While the cause of this sudden change of attitude on Colonel Butler's
+part remained a mystery to his two visitors, it was, in reality, not
+far to seek. For, as he looked out at his window that March morning,
+he saw, not the bare trees on the lawn, not the brown hedge or the
+beaten roadway; he saw, out somewhere among the snow-covered fields,
+laboring as a farmer's boy, enduring the privations of a humble home,
+and the limitations of a narrow environment, the lad who for a dozen
+years had been his solace and his pride, the light and the life of
+Bannerhall. How sadly he missed the boy, no one, save perhaps his
+faithful daughter, had any conception. And she knew it, not because of
+any word of complaint that had escaped his lips, but because every
+look and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> mood and motion told her the story. He would not send for
+his grandson; he would not ask him to come back; he would not force
+him to come. It was a piece of childish folly on the boy's part no
+doubt, this going away; due to his impetuous nature and his immature
+years; but, he had made his bed, now let him lie in it till he should
+come to a realization of what he had done, and, like the prodigal son
+of old, should come back of his own accord, and ask to be forgiven.
+Yet the days went by, and the weeks grew long, and no prodigal
+returned. There was no abatement of determination on the grandfather's
+part, but the idea grew slowly in his mind that if by some chance, far
+removed from even the suspicion of design, they should encounter each
+other, he and the boy, face to face, in the village street, on the
+open road, in field or farm-house, something might be said or done
+that would lead to the longed-for reconciliation. It was the practical
+application of this thought that led to his change of attitude that
+morning in the presence of his visitors. He would have a legitimate
+errand to the home of Enos Walker. The incidental opportuni<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>ties that
+might lie in the path of such an errand properly fulfilled, were not
+to be lightly ignored nor peremptorily dismissed. At any rate the
+matter was worth careful consideration. He considered it, and made his
+decision.</p>
+
+<p>That afternoon, after his daughter Millicent had gone down into the
+village in entire ignorance of any purpose that he might have had to
+leave the house, he ordered his horse and cutter for a drive. Later he
+changed the order, and directed that his team and two-seated sleigh be
+brought to the door. It had occurred to him that there was a bare
+possibility that he might have a passenger on his return trip. Then he
+arrayed himself in knee-high rubber boots, a heavy overcoat, and a fur
+cap. At three o'clock he entered his sleigh and directed his driver to
+proceed with all reasonable haste to Cobb's Corners.</p>
+
+<p>Out in the country where the winds of winter had piled the snow into
+long heaps, the beaten track was getting soft, and it was necessary to
+exercise some care in order to prevent the horses from slumping
+through the drifts to the road-bed. And on the westerly slope of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>
+Baldwin's Hill the ground in the middle of the road was bare for at
+least forty rods. But, from that point on, whether his progress was
+fast or slow, Colonel Butler scrutinized the way ahead of him, and the
+farm-houses that he passed, with painstaking care. He was not looking
+for any spruce tree here, no matter how straight and tall. But if
+haply some farmer's boy should be out on an errand for the master of
+the farm, it would be inexcusable to pass him negligently by; that was
+all. And yet his vigilance met with no reward. He had not caught the
+remotest glimpse of such a boy when his sleigh drew up at Enos
+Walker's gate.</p>
+
+<p>The unusual jingling of bells brought Sarah Butler and her sister to
+the window of the sitting-room to see who it was that was bringing
+such a flood of tinkling music up the road.</p>
+
+<p>"For the land sakes!" exclaimed the sister; "it's Richard Butler, and
+he's stopping here. I bet a cookie he's come after Pen."</p>
+
+<p>But Pen's mother did not respond. Her heart was beating too fast, she
+could not speak.</p>
+
+<p>"You've got to go to the door, Sarah," continued the sister; "I'm not
+dressed."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>Colonel Butler was already on his way up the path, and, a moment
+later, his knock was heard at the door. It was opened by Sarah Butler
+who stood there facing him with outward calmness. Evidently the
+colonel had not anticipated seeing her, and, for the moment, he was
+apparently disconcerted. But he recovered himself at once and inquired
+courteously if Mr. Walker was at home. It was the third time in his
+life that he had spoken to his daughter-in-law. The first time was
+when she returned from her bridal trip, and the interview on that
+occasion had been brief and decisive. The second time was when her
+husband was lying dead in the modest home to which he had taken her.
+Now he had spoken to her again, and this time there was no bitterness
+in his tone nor iciness in his manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied; "father is somewhere about. If you will please
+come in and be seated I will try to find him."</p>
+
+<p>He followed her into the sitting-room, and took the chair that she
+placed for him.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg that you will not put yourself to too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> much trouble," he said,
+"in trying to find him; although I desire to see him on a somewhat
+important errand."</p>
+
+<p>"It will not be the slightest trouble," she assured him.</p>
+
+<p>But, as she turned to go, he added as though a new thought had come to
+him:</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you have some young person about the premises whom you could
+send out in search of Mr. Walker, and thus save yourself the effort of
+finding him."</p>
+
+<p>"No," she replied. "There is no young person here. I will go myself.
+It will take but a minute or two."</p>
+
+<p>It was a feeble attempt on his part, and it had been quickly foiled.
+So there was nothing for him to do but to sit quietly in the chair
+that had been placed for him, and await the coming of Enos Walker.</p>
+
+<p>Yet he could not help but wonder as he sat there, what had become of
+Pen. She had said that there was no young person there. Was the boy's
+absence only temporary, or had he left the home of his maternal
+grandfather and gone to some place still more remote and
+inac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>cessible? He was consumed with a desire to know; but he would not
+have made the inquiry, save as a matter of life and death.</p>
+
+<p>It was fully five minutes later that the guest in the sitting-room
+heard some one stamping the snow off his boots in the kitchen
+adjoining, then the door of the room was opened, and Enos Walker stood
+on the threshold. His trousers were tucked into the tops of his boots,
+his heavy reefer jacket was tightly buttoned, and his cloth cap was
+still on his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Good afternoon, Mr. Butler," he said. "I'm pleased to see ye. I
+didn't know as ye'd think it wuth while to come."</p>
+
+<p>"It is always worth while," replied the colonel, "to meet a business
+proposition frankly and fairly. I am here, at your suggestion, to
+discuss with you the matter of the purchase of a certain tree."</p>
+
+<p>Grandpa Walker advanced into the room, closing the door behind him,
+went over to the window, laid aside his cap, and dropped into his
+accustomed chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Jes' so," he said. "Set down, an' we'll talk it over." When the
+colonel was seated he con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>tinued: "They tell me ye want to buy a
+spruce tree. Is that right?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is correct."</p>
+
+<p>"Want it fer a flag-pole, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It is proposed to erect a staff on the school grounds at
+Chestnut Hill."</p>
+
+<p>"Jes' so. In that case ye want a perty good one. Tall, straight,
+slender, small-limbed; proper in every way."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I've got it."</p>
+
+<p>"So I have heard. I have come to bargain for it."</p>
+
+<p>"All right! Want to look at it fust, I s'pose."</p>
+
+<p>"I have come prepared to inspect it."</p>
+
+<p>"That's business. I'll go down to the swamp with ye an' we'll look her
+over."</p>
+
+<p>Grandpa Walker rose from his chair and replaced his cap on his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Is the tree located at some distance from the house?" inquired the
+colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mebbe a quarter of a mile; mebbe not so fer."</p>
+
+<p>"A&mdash;have you some young person about,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> whom you could send with me to
+inspect it, and thus save yourself the trouble of tramping through the
+snow?"</p>
+
+<p>Grandpa Walker looked at his visitor curiously before replying.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, after a moment, "I ain't. I've got a young feller
+stoppin' with me; but he started up to Henry Cobb's about two o'clock.
+How fer beyond Henry's he's got by this time I can't say. I ain't so
+soople as I was once, that's a fact. But when it comes to trampin'
+through the woods, snow er no snow, I reckon I can hold up my end with
+anybody that wears boots. Ef ye're ready, come along!"</p>
+
+<p>A look of disappointment came into the colonel's face. He did not
+move. After a moment he said:</p>
+
+<p>"On second thought, I believe I will not take the time nor the trouble
+to inspect the tree."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't want it, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I want it. I'll take it on your recommendation and that of my
+agents, Messrs. Morrissey and Campbell. If you'll name your price I'll
+pay you for it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>Grandpa Walker went back and sat down in his cushioned chair by the
+window. He laid his cap aside, picked up his pipe from the
+window-sill, lighted it, and began to smoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, at last, "that's a prime tree. That tree's wuth
+money."</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly, sir; undoubtedly; but how much money?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man puffed for a moment in silence. Then he asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Want it fer a liberty-pole, do ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want it for a liberty-pole."</p>
+
+<p>"To put the school flag on?"</p>
+
+<p>"To put the school flag on."</p>
+
+<p>There was another moment of silence.</p>
+
+<p>"They say," remarked the old man, inquiringly, "that you gave the
+flag?"</p>
+
+<p>"I gave the flag."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, by cracky! I'll give the pole."</p>
+
+<p>Enos Walker rose vigorously to his feet in order properly to emphasize
+his offer. Colonel Butler did not respond. This sudden turn of affairs
+had almost taken away his breath. Then a grim smile stole slowly into
+his face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> The humor of the situation began to appeal to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Permit me to commend you," he said, "for your liberality and
+patriotism."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't fight in no Civil War," added the old man, emphatically;
+"but I ain't goin' to hev it said by nobody that Enos Walker ever
+profited a penny on a pole fer his country's flag."</p>
+
+<p>The old soldier's smile broadened.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" he exclaimed. "That's very good. We'll stand together as joint
+donors of the emblem of freedom."</p>
+
+<p>"And I ain't ashamed of it nuther," cried the new partner, "an' here's
+my hand on it."</p>
+
+<p>The two men shook hands, and this time Colonel Richard Butler laughed
+outright.</p>
+
+<p>"This is fine," he said. "I'll send men to-morrow to cut the tree
+down, trim it, and haul it to town. There's no time to lose. The roads
+are getting soft. Why, half of Baldwin's Hill is already bare."</p>
+
+<p>He started toward the door, but his host called him back.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be in a hurry," said Grandpa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> Walker. "Set down a while, can't
+ye? Have a piece o' pie or suthin. Or a glass o' cider."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you! Nothing at all. I'm in some haste. It's getting late.
+And&mdash;I desire to make a brief call on Henry Cobb before returning
+home."</p>
+
+<p>The old man made no further effort to detain his visitor; but he gave
+him a cordial invitation to come again, shook hands with him at the
+door, and watched him half way down to the gate. When he turned and
+re-entered his house he found his two daughters already in the
+sitting-room.</p>
+
+<p>"Did he come for Pen?" asked Sarah Butler, breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ef he did," replied her father, "he didn't say so. He wanted my
+spruce tree, and I give it to him. And I want to tell ye one thing
+fu'ther. I've got a sort o' sneakin' notion that Colonel Richard
+Butler of Chestnut Hill ain't more'n about one-quarter's bad as he's
+be'n painted."</p>
+
+<p>Henry Cobb's residence was scarcely a half mile beyond the home of
+Enos Walker. It was the most imposing farm-house in that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>
+neighborhood, splendidly situated on high ground, with a rare outlook
+to the south and east. Mr. Cobb himself was just emerging from the
+open door of a great barn that fronted the road as Colonel Butler
+drove up. He came out to the sleigh and greeted the occupant of it
+cordially. The two men were old friends.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a magnificent view you have here," said the colonel;
+"magnificent!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was the reply, "we rather enjoy it. I've lived in this
+neighborhood all my life, and the longer I live here the better I like
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the proper spirit, sir, the proper spirit."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment both men looked off across the snow-mantled valleys and
+the wooded slopes, to the summit of the hill-range far to the east,
+touched with the soft light of the sinking sun.</p>
+
+<p>"You're quite a stranger in these parts," said Henry Cobb, breaking
+the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was the reply. "I don't often get up here. I came up to-day to
+make an arrangement with your neighbor, Mr. Walker, for the purchase
+of a very fine spruce tree on his property."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>"So? Did you succeed in closing a bargain with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He has consented to let it go."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say so! I would hardly have believed it. Now, I don't want
+to be curious nor anything; but would you mind telling me what you had
+to pay for it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. He gave it to us."</p>
+
+<p>"He&mdash;what?"</p>
+
+<p>"He gave it to us to be used as a flag-staff on the grounds of the
+public school at Chestnut Hill."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean that he gave you that wonderful spruce that stands
+down in the corner of his swamp; the one Morrissey and Campbell were
+up looking at yesterday?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that is the one."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, colonel, that spruce was the apple of his eye. If I've heard him
+brag that tree up once, I've heard him brag it up fifty times. He
+never gave away anything in his life before. What's come over the old
+man, anyway?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, when he learned that I had donated the flag, he declared that
+he would donate the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> staff. I suppose he didn't want to be outdone in
+the matter of patriotism."</p>
+
+<p>"Good for him!" exclaimed Henry Cobb. "He'll be a credit to his
+country yet;" and he laughed merrily. Then, sobering down, he added:
+"But, say; look here! can't you let me in on this thing too? I don't
+want to be outdone by either of you. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll
+cut the tree, and trim it, and haul it to town to-morrow, free gratis
+for nothing. What do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>Then the colonel laughed in his turn, and he reached out his one hand
+and shook hands warmly with Henry Cobb.</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid!" he cried. "This efflorescence of patriotism in the rural
+districts is enough to delight an old soldier's heart!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right! I'll have the pole there by four o'clock to-morrow
+afternoon, and you can depend on it."</p>
+
+<p>"I will. And I thank you, sir; not only on my own account, but also in
+the name of the public of Chestnut Hill, and on behalf of our beloved
+country. Now I must go. I have decided, in returning, to drive across
+by Dar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>bytown, strike the creek road, and go down home by that route
+in order to avoid drifts and bare places. Oh, by the way, there's a
+little matter I neglected to speak to Mr. Walker about. It's of no
+great moment, but I understand his grandson came up here this
+afternoon, and, if he is still here, I will take the opportunity to
+send back word by him."</p>
+
+<p>He made the inquiry with as great an air of indifference as he could
+assume, but his breath came quick as he waited for an answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," replied Henry Cobb, "Pen was here along about three o'clock. He
+was looking for a two-year old heifer that strayed away yesterday. He
+went over toward Darbytown. You might run across him if you're going
+that way. But I'll send your message down to Enos Walker if you wish."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you! It doesn't matter. I may possibly see the young man along
+the road. Good night!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, colonel!"</p>
+
+<p>The impatient horses were given rein once more, and dashed away to the
+music of the two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> score bells that hung from their shining harness.</p>
+
+<p>But, although Colonel Richard Butler scanned every inch of the way
+from Henry Cobb's to Darbytown, with anxious and longing eyes, he did
+not once catch sight of any farmer's boy searching for a two-year old
+heifer that had strayed from its home.</p>
+
+<p>At dusk he stepped wearily from his sleigh and mounted the steps that
+led to the porch of Bannerhall. His daughter met him at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"For goodness' sake, father!" she exclaimed; "where on earth have you
+been?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have been to Cobb's Corners," was the quiet reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you get Pen?" she asked, excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not."</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't Mr. Walker let him come?"</p>
+
+<p>"I made no request of any one for my grandson's return. I went to
+obtain a spruce tree from Mr. Walker, out of which to make a
+flag-staff for the school grounds. I obtained it."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a wonder."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>"It is not a wonder, Millicent. Permit me to say, as one speaking from
+experience, that when accused of selfishness, Enos Walker has been
+grossly maligned. I have found him to be a public-spirited citizen,
+and a much better man, in all respects, than he has been painted."</p>
+
+<p>His daughter made no further inquiries, for she saw that he was not in
+a mood to be questioned. But, from that day forth, the shadow of
+sorrow and of longing grew deeper on his care-furrowed face.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was well along in April, that year, before the last of the winter's
+snow disappeared, and the robins and blue-birds darted in and out
+among the naked trees. But, as the sun grew high, and the days long,
+and the spring languor filled the air, Pen felt an ever-increasing
+dissatisfaction with his position in his grandfather Walker's
+household, and an ever-increasing desire to relinquish it. Not that he
+was afraid or ashamed to work; he had sufficiently demonstrated that
+he was not. Not that he ever expected to return to Bannerhall, for he
+had no such thought. To beg to be taken back was unthinkable; that he
+should be invited back was most improbable. He had not seen his
+grandfather Butler since he came away, nor had he heard from him,
+except for the vivid and oft-repeated recital by Grandpa Walker of the
+spruce tree episode, and save through his Aunt Millicent who made
+occasional visits to the family at Cobb's Corners. That he deplored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>
+Pen's departure there could be no doubt, but that he would either
+invite or compel him to return was beyond belief. So Pen's tasks had
+come to be very irksome to him, and his mode of life very
+dissatisfying. If he worked he wanted to work for himself, at a task
+in which he could take interest and pride. At Cobb's Corners he could
+see no future for himself worthy of the name. Many times he discussed
+the situation with his mother, and, painful as it would be to her to
+lose him, she agreed with him that he must go. He waited only the
+opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>One day, late in April, Robert Starbird dropped in while the members
+of the Walker family were at dinner. He was a wool-buyer for the
+Starbird Woolen Company of Lowbridge, and a nephew of its president.
+Having completed a bargain with Grandpa Walker for his scanty spring
+clipping of fleece, he turned to Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't I seen you at Colonel Butler's, down at Chestnut Hill?" he
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Pen, "I'm his grandson. I used to live there."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>"I thought so. Staying here now, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Until I can get regular work; yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Want a job, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like one, very much."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll need a bobbin-boy at the mills pretty soon. I suppose&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>And then Grandpa Walker interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess," he said, "'t we can keep the young man busy here for a
+while yet."</p>
+
+<p>Robert Starbird looked curiously for a moment, from man to boy, and
+then, saying that he must go on up to Henry Cobb's to make a deal with
+him for his fleece, he went out to his buggy, got in and drove away.</p>
+
+<p>Pen went back to his work in the field with a sinking heart. It had
+not before occurred to him that Grandpa Walker would object to his
+leaving him whenever he should find satisfactory and profitable
+employment elsewhere. But it was now evident that, if he went, he must
+go against his grandfather's will. His first opportunity had already
+been blocked. What opposition he would meet with in the future he
+could only conjecture.</p>
+
+<p>With Old Charlie hitched to a stone-boat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> he was drawing stones from
+a neighbor's field to the roadside, where men were engaged in laying
+up a stone wall. He had not been long at work since the dinner hour,
+when, chancing to look up, he saw Robert Starbird driving down the
+hill from Henry Cobb's on his way back to Chestnut Hill. A sudden
+impulse seized him. He threw the reins across Old Charlie's back, left
+him standing willingly in his tracks, and started on a run across the
+lot to head off Robert Starbird at the roadside. The man saw him
+coming and stopped his horse.</p>
+
+<p>Panting a little, both from exertion and excitement, Pen leaped the
+fence and came up to the side of the buggy.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Starbird," he said, "if that job is still open, I&mdash;I think I'll
+take it&mdash;if you'll give it to me."</p>
+
+<p>The man, looking at him closely, saw determination stamped on his
+countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that's all right," he said. "You could have the job; but what
+about your grandfather Walker? He doesn't seem to want you to leave."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>"I know. But my mother's willing. And I'll make it up to Grandpa
+Walker some way. I can't stay here, Mr. Starbird; and&mdash;I'm not going
+to. They're good enough to me here. I've no complaint to make. But&mdash;I
+want a real job and a fair chance."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, out of breath. The intensity of his desire, and the
+fixedness of his purpose were so sharply manifest that the man in the
+wagon did not, for the moment, reply. He placed his whip slowly in its
+socket, and seemed lost in thought. At last he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Henry Cobb has been telling me about you. He gives you a very good
+name."</p>
+
+<p>He paused a moment and then added:</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what I'll do. If you'll give the old gentleman fair
+notice&mdash;and not sneak away from him like a vagabond&mdash;I won't harbor
+any runaways&mdash;why, I'll see that you get the job."</p>
+
+<p>Pen drew a long breath, and his face lighted up with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Mr. Starbird!" he exclaimed. "Thank you very much. When
+may I come?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let's see. To-day's Wednesday. Suppose you report for duty next
+Monday."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>"All right! I'll be there. I'll leave here Monday morning. I'll speak
+to Grandpa Walker to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. See you Monday. Good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>Robert Starbird chirruped to his horse, started on, and was soon lost
+to sight around a bend in the road.</p>
+
+<p>And Pen strode back across the field, prouder and happier than he had
+ever been before in all his life.</p>
+
+<p>But he still had Grandpa Walker to settle with.</p>
+
+<p>At supper time, on the evening after his talk with Robert Starbird,
+Pen had no opportunity to inform his grandfather of the success of his
+application for employment. For, almost as soon as he left the table,
+Grandpa Walker got his hat and started down to the store to discuss
+politics and statecraft with his loquacious neighbors. But Pen felt
+that his grandfather should know, that night, of the arrangement he
+had made for employment, and so, after his evening chores were done,
+he went down to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> gate at the roadside to wait for the old man to
+come home.</p>
+
+<p>The air was as balmy as though it had been an evening in June.
+Somewhere in the trees by the fence a pair of wakeful birds was
+chirping. From the swamp below the hill came the hoarse croaking of
+bull-frogs. Above the summit of the wooded slope that lay toward
+Chestnut Hill the full moon was climbing, and, aslant the road, the
+maples cast long shadows toward the west.</p>
+
+<p>To Pen, as he stood there waiting, came his mother. A wrap was around
+her shoulders, and a light scarf partly covered her head. She had
+finished her evening work and had come out to find him.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you waiting for grandpa?" she asked; though she knew without
+asking, that he was.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was the reply. "I want to see him about leaving. I had a talk
+with Mr. Starbird this afternoon, in the road, and he's given me the
+job he spoke about. I wasn't going to tell you until after I'd seen
+grandpa, and the trouble was all over."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>"You dear boy! And if grandpa objects to your going?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I&mdash;I think I'll go anyway. Look here, mother," he continued,
+hastily; "I don't want to be mean nor anything like that; and
+grandpa's been kind to me; but, mother&mdash;I can't stay here. Don't you
+see I can't stay here?"</p>
+
+<p>He held his arms out to her appealingly, and she took them and put
+them about her neck.</p>
+
+<p>"I know, dear," she said; "I know. And grandfather must let you go. I
+shall die of loneliness, but&mdash;you must have a chance."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, mother! And as soon as I can earn enough you shall come to
+live with me."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall come anyway before very long, dearie. I worked for other
+people before I was married. I can do it again."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little, but on her cheeks tears glistened in the
+moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>Then, suddenly, they were aware that Grandpa Walker was approaching
+them. He was coming up the road, talking to himself as was his custom
+when alone, especially if his mind was ill at ease. And his mind was
+not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> wholly at ease to-night. The readiness with which Pen had, that
+day, accepted a suggestion of employment elsewhere, had given him
+something of a turn. He could not contemplate, with serenity, the
+prospect of resuming the burdens of which his grandson had, for the
+last two months, relieved him. To become again a "hewer of wood and
+drawer of water" for his family was a prospect not wholly to his
+liking. He became suddenly aware that two people were standing at his
+gate in the moonlight. He stopped in the middle of the road, to look
+at them inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's I, father!" his daughter called out to him. "Pen and I. We've
+been waiting for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh? Waitin' for me?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Pen has something he wants to say to you."</p>
+
+<p>The old man crossed over to the roadside fence and leaned on it. The
+announcement was ominous. He looked sharply at Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said. "I'm listenin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Grandpa," began Pen, "I want you to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> willing that I should take
+that job that Mr. Starbird spoke about to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"So, that's it, is it? Ye've got the rovin' bee a buzzin' in your
+head, have ye? Don't ye know 't 'a rollin' stone gethers no moss'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, grandpa, I'm not contented here. Not but what you're good
+enough to me, and all that, but I'm unhappy here. And I saw Mr.
+Starbird again this afternoon, and he said I could have that job."</p>
+
+<p>"Think a job in a mill's better'n a job on a farm?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think it is for me, grandpa."</p>
+
+<p>"Work too hard for ye here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I'm not complaining about the work being hard. It's just because
+farm work does not suit me."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't suit most folks 'at ain't inclined to dig into it."</p>
+
+<p>Then Pen's mother spoke up.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, father," she said, "you know Pen's done a man's work since he's
+been here, and he's never whimpered about it. And it isn't quite fair
+for you to insinuate that he's been lazy."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>"I ain't insinuatin' nothin'," replied the old man, doggedly. "I ain't
+findin' no fault with what he's done sence he's been here; I'm just
+gittin' at what he thinks he's goin' to do." He turned again to Pen.
+"Made up yer mind to go, hev ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandpa."</p>
+
+<p>"When?"</p>
+
+<p>"Next Monday morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Wuther I'm willin' or no?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to be willing."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, wuther I'm willin' or no?"</p>
+
+<p>In the moonlight the old man's face bore a look of severity that
+augured ill for any happy completion to Pen's plan. A direct question
+had been asked, and it called for a direct answer. And with the answer
+would come the clash of wills. Pen felt it coming, and, although he
+was apprehensive to the verge of alarm, he braced himself to meet it
+calmly. His answer was frank, and direct.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandpa."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm willin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, grandpa!"</p>
+
+<p>"Father! you old dear!" from Pen's mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>"I say I'm willin'," repeated the old man. "I hed hoped 't Pen'd stay
+here to hum an' help me out with the farm work. I ain't so soople as I
+use to be. An' Mirandy's man's got a stiddy job a-teamin'. An' the boy
+seemed to take to the work natural, and I thought he liked it, and I
+rested easy and took my comfort till Robert Starbird put that notion
+in his head to-day. Sence then I ain't had no hope."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry to leave you, grandpa, and it's awfully good of you to let
+me go, and you know I wouldn't go if I thought I could possibly stay
+and be contented."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand. It's the same with most young fellers. They see suthin'
+better away from hum. And I ain't willin' to stand in the way o' no
+young feller that thinks he can better himself some'eres else. When I
+was fifteen I wanted to go down to Chestnut Hill and work in Sampson's
+planin' factory; but my father wouldn't let me. Consekence is I never
+got spunk enough agin to leave the farm. So I ain't goin' to stand in
+nobody else's way, you can go Monday mornin' or any other mornin', and
+I'll just say God bless ye, an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> good luck to ye, an' start in agin on
+the chores."</p>
+
+<p>Then Pen's mother, like a girl still in her sympathies and impulses,
+flung her arms around her father's neck, and hugged him till he was
+positively obliged to use force to release himself. And they all
+walked up the path together in the moonlight, and entered the house
+and told Grandma Walker and Aunt Miranda of Pen's contemplated
+departure, to which Grandpa Walker, with martyrlike countenance, added
+the story of his own unhappy prospect.</p>
+
+<p>When Monday morning came Pen was up long before his usual hour for
+rising. He did all the chores, picked up a dozen odds and ends, and
+left everything ship-shape for his grandfather who was now to succeed
+him in doing the morning work. Then he changed his clothes, packed his
+suit-case and came down to breakfast. Grandpa Walker had offered to
+take him into town with Old Charlie, but Pen had learned, the night
+before, that Henry Cobb was going down to Chestnut Hill in the
+morning, and when Mr. Cobb heard that Pen also was going, he gave him
+an invitation to ride<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> with him. He and the boy had become fast
+friends during Pen's sojourn at Cobb's Corners, and both of them
+anticipated, with pleasure, the ride into town.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast Grandpa Walker lighted his pipe and put on his hat but
+he did not go to the store, as had been his custom; he stayed to say
+good-by to Pen, and to bid him Godspeed, as he had said he would, and
+to tell him that when he lacked for work, or wanted a home, there was
+a latch-string at Cobb's Corners that was always hanging out for him.
+He did more than that. He shoved into Pen's hands enough money to pay
+for a few weeks' board at Lowbridge, and told him that if he needed
+more, to write and ask for it.</p>
+
+<p>"It's comin' to ye," he said, when Pen protested. "Ye ain't had
+nothin' sence ye been here, and I kind o' calculate ye've earned it."</p>
+
+<p>Pen's mother went with him to the gate to wait for Henry Cobb to come
+along; and when they saw Mr. Cobb driving down the hill toward them,
+she kissed Pen good-by, adjured him to be watchful of his health, and
+to write frequently to her, and then went back up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> path toward the
+house she could not see for the tears that filled her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Henry Cobb drove a smart horse, and a buggy that was spick and span,
+and it was a pleasure to ride with him. He pulled up at the gate with
+a flourish, and told Pen to put his suit-case under the seat, and to
+jump in.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until after they had left the Corners some distance behind
+them that the object of Pen's journey was mentioned. Then Henry Cobb
+asked:</p>
+
+<p>"How does the old gentleman like your leaving?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think he likes it very well," was the reply. "But he's been
+lovely about it. He gave me some money and his blessing."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say so!"</p>
+
+<p>Henry Cobb stared at the boy in astonishment. It was not an unheard of
+thing for Grandpa Walker to give his blessing; but that he should give
+money besides, was, to say the least, unusual.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Pen, "he couldn't have treated me better if I'd lived
+with him always."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cobb cast a contemplative eye on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> landscape, and, for a full
+minute, he was silent. Then he turned again to Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to be curious or anything," he said; "but would you mind
+telling me how much money the old gentleman gave you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," was the prompt reply. "He gave me eighteen dollars."</p>
+
+<p>"Good for him!" exclaimed the man. "He's got more good stuff in him
+than I gave him credit for. I was afraid he might have given you only
+a dollar or two, and I was going to lend you a little to help you out.
+I will yet if you need it. I will any time you need it."</p>
+
+<p>Henry Cobb was not prodigal with his money, but he was kind-hearted,
+and he had seen enough of Pen to feel that he was taking no risk.</p>
+
+<p>"You're very kind," replied the boy, "but grandpa's money will last me
+a good while, and I shall get wages enough to keep me comfortably, and
+I shall not need any more."</p>
+
+<p>After a while Mr. Cobb's thoughts turned again to Grandpa Walker.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll miss you terribly," he said to Pen. "He hasn't had so easy a
+time in all his life be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>fore as he's had this spring, with you to do
+all the farm chores and help around the house. It'll be like pulling
+teeth for him to get into harness again."</p>
+
+<p>Henry Cobb gave a little chuckle. He knew how fond Grandpa Walker was
+of comfortable ease.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," replied Pen, "I'm sorry to go, and leave him with all the work
+to do; but you know how it is, Mr. Cobb."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know; I know. And you're going with splendid people. I've
+known the Starbirds all my life. None better in the country."</p>
+
+<p>They had reached the summit of the elevation overlooking the valley
+that holds Chestnut Hill. Spring lay all about them in a riot of fresh
+green. The world, to boyish eyes, had never before looked so fair, nor
+had the present ever before been filled with brighter promises for the
+future. But the morning ride, delightful as it had been, was drawing
+to an end.</p>
+
+<p>Coming from Cobb's Corners into Chestnut Hill you go down the Main
+street past Bannerhall. Pen looked as he went by, but he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> saw no one
+there. The lawn was rich with a carpet of fresh, young grass, the
+crocus beds and the tulip plot were ablaze with color, and the
+swelling buds that crowned the maples with a haze and halo of elusive
+pink foretold the luxury of summer foliage. But no human being was in
+sight. The street looked strange to Pen as they drove along; as
+strange as though he had been away two years instead of two months.
+They stopped in front of the post-office, and he remained in the wagon
+and minded the horse while Henry Cobb went into a hardware store near
+by. People passed back and forth, and some of them looked at him and
+said "good-morning," in a distant way, as though it were an effort for
+them to speak to him. He knew the cause of their indifference and he
+did not resent it, though it cut him deeply. Last winter it would have
+been different. But last winter he was the grandson of Colonel Richard
+Butler, and lived with that old patriot amid the memories and luxuries
+of Bannerhall. To-day he was the grandson of Enos Walker, of Cobb's
+Corners, leaving the farm to seek a petty job in a mill, discredited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>
+in the eyes of the community because of his disloyalty to his
+country's flag. He was musing on these things when some one called to
+him from the sidewalk. It was Aunt Millicent.</p>
+
+<p>"Pen Butler!" she cried, "get right down here and kiss me."</p>
+
+<p>Pen did her bidding.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the world are you doing here?" she continued.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm on my way to Lowbridge," he said. "I have a job up there in the
+Starbird woolen mills, as bobbin-boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, for goodness sake! Who would have thought it? Pen Butler going
+to work as a bobbin-boy! And Lowbridge is fourteen miles away, and we
+shall never see you again."</p>
+
+<p>Pen comforted her as best he could, and explained his reasons for
+going, and then he asked after the health of his grandfather Butler.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't ask me," she said disconsolately. "He's grieving himself into
+his grave about you. But he doesn't say a word, and he won't let me
+say a word. Oh, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>Then Henry Cobb came out and greeted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> Aunt Millicent, and, after a few
+more inquiries and admonitions, she kissed Pen good-by and went on her
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cobb was going on down to Chestnut Valley, but, as the train to
+Lowbridge did not leave until afternoon, Pen said he would go down
+later. So he was left on the sidewalk there alone. He did not quite
+know what to do with himself. The boys were, doubtless, all in school.
+He walked up the street a little way, and then he walked back again.
+He had no reason for entering any of the stores, and no desire to do
+so. There was really no place for him to go. Finally he decided that
+he would go down to the Valley and wait there for the train. So he
+started on down the hill. People whom he met, acquaintances of the old
+days, looked at him askance, spoke to him indifferently, or ignored
+him altogether. It seemed to him that he was like a stranger in an
+alien land.</p>
+
+<p>As he passed by the school-house a boy whom he did not know was
+lingering about the steps. Otherwise there was no one in sight.</p>
+
+<p>Then, suddenly, there burst upon his view<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> a sight for which he was
+not prepared. In the yard on the lower side of the school-house, the
+yard through which he and his victorious troops had driven the
+retreating enemy at the battle of Chestnut Hill, a flag-staff was
+standing; tall, straight, symmetrical, and from its summit floated the
+Star-Spangled Banner; the very banner that he had trodden under his
+feet that February day. It was as though some one had struck him on
+the breast with an ice-cold hand. He gasped and stood still, his eyes
+fixed immovably on the flag. Then something stirred within him, a
+strange impulse that ran the quick gamut of his nerves; and when he
+came to himself he was standing in the street, with head bared and
+bowed, and his eyes filled with tears. Like Saul of Tarsus he had been
+stricken in the way, and ever afterward, whenever and wherever he saw
+his country's flag, his soul responded to the sight, and thrilled with
+memories of that April day when first he discovered that rare quality
+of patriotism that had hitherto lain dormant in his breast.</p>
+
+<p>So he walked on down to the railroad sta<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>tion in Chestnut Valley, and
+went into the waiting-room and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>It was very lonely there and it was very tiresome waiting for the
+train.</p>
+
+<p>At noon he went out to a bakery and bought for himself a light
+luncheon. As he was returning to the depot he came suddenly upon Aleck
+Sands, who had had his dinner and was starting back to school. There
+was no time for either boy to consider what kind of greeting he should
+give to the other. They were face to face before either of them
+realized it. As for Pen, he bore no resentment now, toward any one.
+His heart had been wrung dry from that feeling through two months of
+labor and of contemplation. So, when the first shock of surprise was
+over, he held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's be friends, Aleck," he said, "and forget what's gone by."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not willing," was the reply, "to be friends with any one who's
+done what you've done." And he made a wide detour around the
+astonished boy, and marched off up the hill.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>From that moment until the train came and he boarded it, Pen could
+never afterward remember what happened. His mind was in a tumult.
+Would the cruel echo of one minute of inconsiderate folly on a
+February day, keep sounding in his ears and hammering at his heart so
+long as he should live?</p>
+
+<p>It was mid-afternoon when Pen reached Lowbridge, and he went at once
+to the Starbird mill on the outskirts of the town. He caught sight of
+Robert Starbird in the mill-yard, and went over to him. The man did
+not at first recognize him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Penfield Butler," said the boy, "with whom you were talking last
+week."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. Now I know you. You look a little different, some way. I've
+been watching out for you. How did you make out with your Grandpa
+Walker?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Grandpa Walker found it a little hard to take up the work I'd
+been doing, but he was quite willing I should come, and helped me very
+much."</p>
+
+<p>"I see." An amused twinkle came into the man's eyes; just such a
+twinkle as had come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> into the eyes of Henry Cobb that morning on the
+way to Chestnut Hill.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he added, "I guess it's all right. Come over to the office.
+We'll see what we can do for you."</p>
+
+<p>They crossed the mill-yard and entered the office. An elderly,
+benevolent looking man with white side-whiskers, wearing a Grand Army
+button on the lapel of his coat, was seated at a table, writing. Three
+or four clerks were busy at their desks, and a girl was working at a
+type-writer in a remote corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Major Starbird," said the man who had brought Pen in, "this is the
+boy whom I told you last week I had hired as a bobbin-boy. He's a
+grandson of Enos Walker out at Cobb's Corners."</p>
+
+<p>The man with white side-whiskers laid down his pen, removed his
+glasses, and looked up scrutinizingly at Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, "I know Mr. Walker."</p>
+
+<p>"He is also," added Robert Starbird, "a grandson of Colonel Richard
+Butler at Chestnut Hill."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>"Indeed! Colonel Butler is a warm friend of mine. I was not aware
+that&mdash;is your name Penfield Butler?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," replied Pen. Something in the man's changed tone of voice
+sent a sudden fear to his heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you the boy who is said to have mistreated the American flag on
+the school grounds at Chestnut Hill?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;suppose I am. Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Pen's heart was now in his shoes. The man with white side-whiskers
+raked him from head to foot with a look that boded no good. He turned
+to his nephew.</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard of that incident," he said. "I do not think we want this
+young man in our employ."</p>
+
+<p>Robert Starbird looked first at his uncle and then at Pen. It was
+plain that he was puzzled. It was equally plain that he was
+disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know about this," he said. "I'm sorry if it's anything that
+necessitates our depriving him of the job. Penfield, suppose you
+retire to the waiting-room for a few minutes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> I'll talk this matter
+over with Major Starbird."</p>
+
+<p>So Pen, with the ghosts of his misdeeds haunting and harassing him,
+and a burden of disappointment, too heavy for any boy to bear,
+weighing him down, retired to the waiting-room. For the first time
+since his act of disloyalty he felt that his punishment was greater
+than he deserved. Not that he bore resentment now against any person,
+but he believed the retribution that was following him was unjustly
+proportioned to the gravity of his offense. And if Major Starbird
+refused to receive him, what could he do then?</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of these cruel forebodings he heard his name called, and
+he went back into the office.</p>
+
+<p>Major Starbird's look was still keen, and his voice was still
+forbidding.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not want," he said, "to be too hasty in my judgments. My nephew
+tells me that Henry Cobb has given you an excellent recommendation,
+and we place great reliance on Mr. Cobb's opinion. It may be that your
+offense has been exaggerated, or that you have some explanation which
+will mitigate it. If<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> you have any excuse to offer I shall be glad to
+hear it."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think," replied Pen frankly, "that there was any excuse for
+doing what I did. Only&mdash;it seems to me&mdash;I've suffered enough for it.
+And I never&mdash;never had anything against the flag."</p>
+
+<p>He was so earnest, and his voice was so tremulous with emotion, that
+the heart of the old soldier could not help but be stirred with pity.</p>
+
+<p>"I have fought for my country," he said, "and I reverence her flag.
+And I cannot have, in my employ, any one who is disloyal to it."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not disloyal to it, sir. I&mdash;I love it."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you be willing to die for it, as I have been?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would welcome the chance, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Major Starbird turned to his nephew.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we may trust him," he said. "He has good blood in his veins,
+and he ought to develop into a loyal citizen."</p>
+
+<p>Pen said: "Thank you!" But he said it with a gulp in his throat. The
+reaction had quite unnerved him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>"I am sure," replied Robert Starbird, "that we shall make no mistake.
+Penfield, suppose you come with me. I will introduce you to the
+foreman of the weaving-room. He may be able to take you on at once."</p>
+
+<p>So Pen, with tears of gratitude in his eyes, followed his guide and
+friend. They went through the store-room between great piles of
+blankets, through the wool-room filled with big bales of fleece, and
+up-stairs into the weaving-room amid the click and clatter and roar of
+three score busy and intricate looms. Pen was introduced to the
+foreman, and his duties as bobbin-boy were explained to him.</p>
+
+<p>"It's easy enough," said the foreman, "if you only pay attention to
+your work. You simply have to take the bobbins in these little
+running-boxes to the looms as the weavers call for them and give you
+their numbers. Perhaps you had better stay here this afternoon and let
+Dan Larew show you how. I'll give him a loom to-morrow morning, and
+you can take his place."</p>
+
+<p>So Pen stayed. And when the mills were shut down for the day, when the
+big wheels<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> stopped, and the cylinders were still, and the clatter of
+a thousand working metal fingers ceased, and the voices of the mill
+girls were no longer drowned by the rattle and roar of moving
+machinery, he went with Dan to his home, a half mile away, where he
+found a good boarding-place.</p>
+
+<p>At seven o'clock the next morning he was at the mill, and, at the end
+of his first day's real work for real wages, he went to his new home,
+tired indeed, but happier than he had ever been before in all his
+life.</p>
+
+<p>So the days went by; and spring blossomed into summer, and summer
+melted into autumn, and winter came again and dropped her covering of
+snow upon the landscape, whiter and softer than any fleece that was
+ever scoured or picked or carded at the Starbird mills. And then Pen
+had a great joy. His mother came to Lowbridge to live with him. Death
+had kindly released Grandma Walker from her long suffering, and there
+was no longer any need for his mother to stay on the little farm at
+Cobb's Corners. She was an expert seamstress and she found more work
+in the town<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> than she could do. And the very day on which she
+came&mdash;Major Starbird knew that she was coming&mdash;Pen was promoted to a
+loom. One thing only remained to cloud his happiness. He was still
+estranged from the dear, tenderhearted, but stubborn old patriot at
+Chestnut Hill.</p>
+
+<p>With only his daughter to comfort him, the old man lived his lonely
+life, grieving silently, ever more and more, at the fate which
+separated him from this brave scion of his race, aging as only the
+sorrowing can age, yet, with a stubborn pride, and an unyielding
+purpose, refusing to make the first advance toward a reconciliation.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h3>
+
+
+<p>Pen made good use of his leisure time at Lowbridge. There was no night
+school there, but the courses of a correspondence school were
+available, and through that medium he learned much, not only of that
+which pertained to his calling as a textile worker, but of that also
+which pertained to general science and broad culture. History had a
+special fascination for him; the theory of government, the struggles
+of the peoples of the old world toward light and liberty. The working
+out of the idea of democracy in a country like England which still
+retained its monarchical form and much of its aristocratic flavor, was
+a theme on which he dwelt with particular pleasure. Back somewhere in
+the line of descent his paternal ancestors had been of English blood,
+and he was proud of the heroism, the spirit and the energy which had
+made Great Britain one of the mighty nations of the earth.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>To France also, fighting and forging her way, often through great
+tribulation, into the family of democracies, he gave almost unstinted
+praise. Always splendid and chivalric, whether as monarchy, empire or
+republic, he felt that if he were to-day a soldier he would, next to
+his own beautiful Star Spangled Banner, rather fight and die under the
+tri-color of France than under the flag of any other nation.</p>
+
+<p>But of course it was to the study and contemplation of his own beloved
+country that he gave most of the time he had for reading and research.
+He delved deeply into her history, he examined her constitution and
+her laws, he put himself in touch with the spirit of her organized
+institutions, and with the fundamental ideas, carefully worked out,
+that had made her free and prosperous and great. And by and by he came
+to realize, in a way that he had never done before, what it meant to
+all her citizens, and especially what it meant to him, Penfield
+Butler, to have a country such as this. He thought of her in those
+days not only as a thing of vast territorial limit and of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> splendid
+resources of power and wealth and intellect, not only as a mighty
+machine for humane and just government, but he thought of her also as
+a beloved and beautiful personality, claiming and deserving affection
+and fealty from all her children. And he never saw the flag, he never
+thought of it, he never dreamed of it, that it did not arouse in him
+the same tender and reverent feeling, the same lofty inspiration he
+had felt that day when he first saw it floating from its staff against
+a back-ground of clear blue sky on the school-house lawn at Chestnut
+Hill.</p>
+
+<p>He held himself closely to his tasks. Only twice since he came away
+had he gone back with his mother for a holiday visit at Cobb's
+Corners. Grandpa Walker had a hearty handshake for him, and an
+affectionate greeting. The boy was forging ahead in his calling, was
+developing into a fine specimen of physical young manhood, and the old
+man was proud of him. But he did not hesitate to remind him that if a
+day of adversity should come the latch-string of the old house was
+still out, and he would always be as welcome there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> as he was on that
+winter day when he had come to them as an exile from Bannerhall.</p>
+
+<p>One Memorial Day, as Pen stood at the entrance to the cemetery bridge
+watching the procession of those going in to do honor to the patriotic
+dead, he was especially impressed with the fine appearance of the
+local company of the National Guard which was acting as an escort to
+the veterans of the Grand Army post. The young men composing the
+company were dressed in khaki, handled their rifles with ease and
+accuracy, and marched with a soldierly bearing and precision that were
+admirable. It occurred to Pen that it might be advisable for him to
+join this body of citizen soldiery provided he had the necessary
+qualifications and could be admitted to membership. It was not so much
+the show and glamour of the military life that appealed to him as it
+was the opportunity that such a membership might afford to be of
+service to his country. Even then Europe was being devastated by a war
+which had no equal in history. The German armies, trained to a point
+of unexampled efficiency, with the aid of their Allies, had
+overwhelmed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> Belgium and had almost succeeded in entering Paris and in
+laying the whole of France under tribute. Beaten back at a crucial
+moment they had dug themselves into the soil of the invaded country
+and were holding at bay the combined forces of their Allied enemies.
+Half of Europe was in arms. The tragedies of the seas were appalling.
+International complications were grave and unending. More than one
+statesman of prophetic foresight had predicted that a continuance of
+the war must of necessity draw into the maelstrom the government of
+the United States. In such an event the country would need soldiers
+and many of them, and the sooner they could be put into training to
+meet such a possible emergency the better.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover it was not necessary to look across the ocean to foresee the
+necessity for military readiness. Our neighbor to the south was in the
+grip of armed lawlessness and terrorism. Northern Mexico was infested
+with banditti which were a constant menace to the safety of our
+border. Such government as the stricken country had was either unable
+or unwilling to hold them in check. It appeared to be inevi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>table that
+the United States, by armed intervention, must sooner or later come to
+the protection of its citizens. In that event the little handful of
+troops of the regular army must of necessity be reinforced by units of
+the state militia. It might be that soldiers of the National Guard
+would be used only for patrolling the border, and it might well be
+that they would be sent, as was one of Penfield Butler's ancestors,
+into the heart of Mexico to enforce permanent peace and tranquility at
+the point of the bayonet.</p>
+
+<p>So this was the situation, and this was the appeal to Pen's patriotic
+ardor. And the appeal was a strong one. But he did not at once respond
+to it. His work and his study absorbed his time and thought. It was
+not until late in the fall of that year, the year 1915, when the
+crises, both at home and abroad, seemed rapidly approaching, that Pen
+took up for earnest consideration the question of his enlistment in
+the National Guard. Given by nature to acting impulsively, he
+nevertheless, in these days, weighed carefully any proposed line of
+conduct on his part which might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> an important bearing on his
+future. But he resolved, after due consideration, to join the militia
+if he could.</p>
+
+<p>He went to a young fellow, a wool-sorter in the mills, who was a
+corporal in the militia, to obtain the necessary information to make
+his application. The corporal promised to take the matter up for him
+with the captain of the local company, and in due time brought him an
+application blank to be filled out stating his qualifications for
+membership. It was necessary that the paper should be signed by his
+mother as evidence of her consent to his enlistment since he was not
+yet twenty-one years of age. She signed it readily enough, for she
+quite approved of his ambition, and she took a motherly pride in the
+evidences of patriotism that he was constantly manifesting.</p>
+
+<p>Armed with this document he presented himself, on a drill-night, to
+Captain Perry in the officers' quarters at the armory. The captain
+glanced at the paper, then he laid it on the table and looked up at
+Pen. There was a troubled expression on his face.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>"I'm sorry, Butler," he said, "but I'm afraid we can't enlist you."</p>
+
+<p>The announcement came as a shock, but not utterly as a surprise. For
+days the boy had felt a kind of foreboding that something of this sort
+would happen. Yet he did not at once give way to his disappointment
+nor accept without question the captain's pronouncement.</p>
+
+<p>"May I inquire," he asked, "what your reason is for rejecting me?"</p>
+
+<p>Captain Perry sat back in his chair and thrust his legs under the
+table. It was apparent that he was embarrassed, but it was apparent
+also that he would remain firm in the matter of his decision. Nor was
+Pen at such a loss to understand the reason for his rejection as his
+question might imply. He knew, instinctively, that the old story of
+his disloyalty to the flag had come up again, after all these years,
+to plague and to thwart him. He was quite right.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you frankly, Butler," replied the captain, "what the
+trouble is. Since it became known that you wanted to enlist, some
+members of my company have come to me with a protest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> against
+accepting you. They say they represent the bulk of sentiment among the
+enlisted men. You see, under these circumstances, I can't very well
+take you. We are citizen soldiers, not under the iron discipline of
+the regular army, and in matters which are really not essential I must
+yield more or less to the wishes of my boys. They like, in a way, to
+choose their associates."</p>
+
+<p>He ended with an apologetic wave of the hand, and a smile intended to
+be conciliatory. Chagrined and wounded, but not abashed nor silenced,
+Pen stood his ground. He resolved to see the thing through, cost what
+pain and humiliation it might.</p>
+
+<p>"Would you mind telling me," he inquired, "what it is they have
+against me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, if you want to know, yes. They say you're not patriotic. To be
+more explicit they say that up at Chestnut Hill, where you used to
+live, you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Pen interrupted him. His patience was exhausted, his calmness gone.
+"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, "I know. They say I mistreated the flag. They
+say I insulted it, threw it into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> mud and trampled on it. That's
+what they say, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, substantially that. Now, I don't know whether it's true or
+not&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's true enough! I don't deny it. And they say also that on
+account of it all I had to leave Colonel Butler's house and go and
+live with my grandfather Walker at Cobb's Corners. They say that,
+don't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Something of that kind, I believe."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's true too. But they don't say that it all happened half a
+dozen years ago, when I was a mere boy, that I did it in a fit of
+anger at another boy, and had nothing whatever against the flag, and
+that I was sorry for it the next minute and have suffered and repented
+ever since. They don't say that that flag is just as dear to me as it
+is to any man in America, that I love the sight of it; that I'd follow
+it anywhere, and die for it on any battlefield,&mdash;they don't say that,
+do they?"</p>
+
+<p>His cheeks were blazing, his eyes were flashing, every muscle of his
+body was tense under the storm of passionate indignation that swept
+over him. Captain Perry, amazed and thrilled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> by the boy's
+earnestness, straightened up in his chair and looked him squarely in
+the face.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he replied, "they don't say that. But I believe it's true. And
+so far as I'm concerned&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Pen again interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm not blaming you, Captain Perry; you couldn't do anything else
+but turn me down. But some day, some way&mdash;I don't know how
+to-night&mdash;but some way I'm going to prove to these people that have
+been hounding me that I'm as good a patriot and can be as good a
+soldier as the best man in your company!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good! That's splendid!" Captain Perry rose to his feet and grasped
+the boy's hand. "And I'll tell you what I'll do, Butler; if you're
+willing to face the ordeal I'll enlist you. I believe in you."</p>
+
+<p>But Pen would not listen to it.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, "I can't do that. It wouldn't be fair to you, nor to
+your men, nor to me. I'll meet the thing some other way. I'm grateful
+to you all the same though."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; just as you choose. But when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> you need me in your fight
+I'm at your service. Remember that!"</p>
+
+<p>On his way home from the armory it was necessary that Pen should pass
+through the main street of the town. Many of the shops were still open
+and were brilliantly lighted, and people were strolling carelessly
+along the walk, laughing and chatting as though the agony and horror
+and brutality of the mighty conflict just across the sea were all in
+some other planet, billions of miles away; as though the war cloud
+itself were not pushing its ominous black rim farther and farther
+above the horizon of our own beloved land. Now and then Pen met,
+singly or in pairs, khaki clad young men on their way to the armory
+for the weekly drill. Two or three of them nodded to him as they
+passed by, others looked at him askance and hurried on. The resentment
+that had been roused in his breast at Captain Perry's announcement
+flamed up anew; but as he turned into the quieter streets on his
+homeward route this feeling gave way to one of envy, and then to one
+of self-pity and grief. Hard as his lot had been in comparison with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>
+the luxury he might have had had he remained at Bannerhall, he had
+never repined over it, nor had he been envious of those whose lines
+had been cast in pleasanter places. But to-night, after looking at
+these sturdy young fellows in military garb preparing to serve their
+state and their country in the not improbable event of war, an intense
+and passionate longing filled his breast to be, like them, ready to
+fight, to kill or to be killed in defense of that flag which day by
+day claimed his ever-increasing love and devotion. That he was not
+permitted to do so was heart-rending. That it was by his own fault
+that he was not permitted to do so was agony indeed. And yet it was
+all so bitterly unjust. Had he not paid, a thousand times over, the
+full penalty for his offense, trivial or terrible whichever it might
+have been? Why should the accusing ghost of it come back after all
+these years, to hound and harass him and make his whole life wretched?</p>
+
+<p>It was in no cheerful or contented mood that he entered his home and
+responded to the affectionate greeting of his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"You're home early, dear," she said.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>"Didn't they keep you for drill? How does it seem to be a soldier?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't enlist, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't enlist? Why not? I thought that was the big thing you were
+going to do."</p>
+
+<p>"They wouldn't take me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Pen! what was the matter? I thought it was all as good as
+settled."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know that old trouble about the flag at Chestnut Hill?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know. I've never forgotten it. But every one else has, surely."</p>
+
+<p>"No, mother, they haven't. That's the reason they wouldn't take me."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Pen, that was years and years ago. You were just a baby. You've
+paid dearly enough for that. It's not fair! It's not human!"</p>
+
+<p>She, too, was aroused to the point of indignant but unavailing
+protest; for she too knew how the boy, long years ago, had expiated to
+the limit of repentance and suffering the one sensational if venial
+fault of his boyhood.</p>
+
+<p>"I know, mother. That's all true. I know it's horribly unjust; but
+what can you do? It's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> a thing you can't explain because it's partly
+true. It will keep cropping up always, and how I am ever going to live
+it down I don't know. Oh, I don't know!"</p>
+
+<p>He flung himself into a chair, thrust his hands deep into his
+trousers' pockets and stared despairingly into some forbidding
+distance. She grew sympathetic then, and consoling, and went to him
+and put her arm around his neck and laid her face against his head and
+tried to comfort him.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, dearie! So long as you, yourself, know that you love the
+flag, and so long as I know it, we can afford to wait for other people
+to find it out."</p>
+
+<p>"No, mother, we can't. They've got to be shown. I can't live this way.
+Some way or other I've got to prove that I'm no coward and I'm no
+traitor."</p>
+
+<p>"You're too severe with yourself, Pen. There are other ways, perhaps
+better ways, for men to prove that they love their country besides
+fighting for her. To be a good citizen may be far more patriotic than
+to be a good soldier."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>"I know. That's one of the things I've learned, and I believe it. And
+that'll do for most fellows, but it won't do for me. My case is
+different. I mistreated the flag once with my hands and arms and feet
+and my whole body, and I've got to give my hands and arms and feet and
+my whole body now to make up for it. There's no other way. I couldn't
+make the thing right in a thousand years simply by being a good
+citizen. Don't you see, mother? Don't you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked up into her face with tear filled eyes. The thought that had
+long been with him that he must prove his patriotism by personal
+sacrifice, had grown during these last few days into a settled
+conviction and a great desire. He wanted her to see the situation as
+he saw it, and to feel with him the bitterness of his disappointment.
+And she did. She twined her arm more closely about his neck and
+pressed her lips against his hair.</p>
+
+<p>But her heart-felt sympathy made too great a draft on his emotional
+nature. It silenced his voice and flooded his eyes. So she drew her
+chair up beside him, and he laid his head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> in her lap as he had used
+to do when he was a very little boy, and wept out his disappointment
+and grief.</p>
+
+<p>And as he lay there a new thought came to him. Swiftly as a whirlwind
+forms and sweeps across the land, it took on form and motion and swept
+through the channels of his mind. He sprang to his feet, dashed the
+tears from his face, and looked down on his mother with a countenance
+transformed.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother!" he exclaimed, "I have an idea!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Pen; how you startled me! What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have an idea, mother. I'm going to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He paused and looked away from her.</p>
+
+<p>"Going to what, Pen?"</p>
+
+<p>He did not reply at once, but after a moment he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you later, mother, after it's all worked out and I'm sure
+of it. I'm not going to bring home to you any more disappointments."</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was three days later that Pen came home one evening, alert of step,
+bright-eyed, his countenance beaming with satisfaction and delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mother," he cried as he entered the house; "it's settled. I'm
+going!"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up in surprise and alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"What's settled, Pen? Where are you going?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to war."</p>
+
+<p>She dropped the work at which she had been busy and sat down weakly in
+a chair by her dining-room table. He went to her and laid an
+affectionate hand on her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, mother!" he continued, "I didn't mean to frighten you, but
+I'm so happy over it."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up into his face.</p>
+
+<p>"To war, Pen? What war?"</p>
+
+<p>"The big war, mother. The war in France.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> Do you remember the other
+night when I told you I had an idea?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I remember."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that was it. It occurred to me, then, that if I couldn't fight
+for my own country, under my own flag, I would fight for those other
+countries, under their flags. They are making a desperate and a
+splendid war to uphold the rights of civilized nations."</p>
+
+<p>He stood there, erect, manly, resolute, his face lighted with the glow
+of his enthusiasm. She could but admire him, even though her heart
+sank under the weight of his announced purpose. Many times, of an
+evening, they had talked together of the mighty conflict in Europe.
+From the very first Pen's sympathies had been with France and her
+Allies. He could not get over denouncing the swiftness and savagery of
+the raid into Belgium, the wanton destruction of her cities and her
+monuments of art, the hardships and brutalities imposed upon her
+people. The Bryce report, with its details of outrage and crime,
+stirred his nature to its depths. The tragedy of the <em>Lusitania</em>
+filled him with indignation and horror. Now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> suddenly, had come the
+desire and the opportunity to fight with those peoples who were
+struggling to save their ideals from destruction.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to Canada," he continued, "to enlist in the American
+Legion. They say hundreds and thousands of young men from the United
+States who are willing to fight under the Union Jack, have gone up
+into Canada for training and are this very minute facing the gray
+coats of the German enemy in northern France."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Pen," she protested, "this is such a horrible war. The soldiers
+live in the muddiest, foulest kinds of trenches. They kill each other
+with gases and blazing oil. They slaughter each other by thousands
+with guns that go by machinery. It's simply terrible!"</p>
+
+<p>"I know, mother. It's modern warfare. It's up to date. It's no pink
+tea as some one has said. But the more awful it is the sooner it'll be
+over, and the more credit there'll be to us who fight in it."</p>
+
+<p>"And you'll be so far away."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him, pale-faced, with ap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>pealing eyes. He knew how
+uncontrollably she shrank from the thought of losing him in this wild
+vortex of savagery. He patted her cheek tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>"But you'll be a good patriot," he said, "and let me go. It's my duty
+to fight, and it's your duty to let me fight. There isn't any doubt
+about that. Besides, this isn't really France's war nor England's war
+any more than it is our war, or any more than it is the war of any
+country that wants to maintain the ideals of modern civilization. I
+shall be serving my country almost the same as though I were fighting
+under the Stars and Stripes. And I'll be answering in the only way
+it's possible for me to answer, those people who have been charging me
+with disloyalty to the flag. Oh, I must show you what Grandfather
+Butler says. He made a speech yesterday at the flag-raising at
+Chestnut Valley, and it's all in the Lowbridge <em>Citizen</em> this morning.
+Listen! Here's the way he winds up."</p>
+
+<p>He drew a newspaper from his pocket and read:</p>
+
+<p>"'So, fellow citizens, let me predict that be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>fore this great war
+shall come to an end the Stars and Stripes will wave over every
+battlefield in Europe. Sooner or later we must enter the conflict; and
+the sooner the better. For it's our war. It's the war of every country
+that loves liberty and justice. Up to this moment the Allies have been
+fighting for the freedom of the world, your freedom and mine, my
+friends, as well as their own. It is high time the Government at
+Washington, impelled by the patriotic ardor of our thinking citizens,
+declared the enemies of England and France to be our enemies, and
+joined hands with those heroic countries to stamp out forever the
+teutonic menace to liberty and civilization. In the meantime I say to
+the red-blooded youth of America: Glory awaits you on the war-scarred
+fields of France. Go forth! There is no barrier in the way. Remember
+that when the ragged troops of Washington were locked in a death-grip
+with the red-coated soldiers of King George, Lafayette, Rochambeau and
+de Grasse came to our aid with six and twenty thousand of the bravest
+sons of France. It is your turn now to spring to the aid of this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>
+stricken land and prove that you are worthy descendants of the
+grateful patriots of old.'"</p>
+
+<p>Pen finished his reading and laid down the paper. There had been a
+tremor in his voice at the end, and his eyes were wet.</p>
+
+<p>"That's grandfather," he said, "all over. I knew he'd feel that way
+about it. I had decided to go before I read that speech. Now I
+couldn't stay at home if I tried. I'm his grandson yet, mother, and I
+shall answer his call to arms."</p>
+
+<p>After that he sat down quietly and unfolded to his mother all of his
+plans. He told her that he had gone to Major Starbird and had confided
+to him his desire to serve with the Allied armies. The old soldier,
+veteran of many battles, had sympathized with his ambition and had
+procured for him the necessary information concerning enlistment and
+training in Canada. He was to go to New York and report to a certain
+confidential agent there at an address which had been given him, where
+he would receive the necessary credentials for enlistment in the new
+American Legion then in process of formation. And Major Starbird<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> had
+said to him that when he returned, if at all, his place at the mill
+would still be open to him and he would be welcomed back. He told it
+all with a quiet enthusiasm that evidenced not only his fixed purpose,
+but also the fact that his whole heart was in the adventure, and that
+there would be no turning back.</p>
+
+<p>And his mother gave her consent that he should go. What else was there
+for her to do? Mothers have sent their sons to war from time
+immemorial. It is thus that they suffer and bleed for their country.
+And who shall say that their sacrifice is not as great in its way as
+is the sacrifice of those who offer up their lives in battle? But that
+night, through sleepless hours, when she thought of the loneliness
+that would be hers, and the hazards and horrors that would be his, and
+of how, after all, he was such a mere boy, to be petted and spoiled
+and kept at home rather than to be sent out to meet the trials and
+terrors of the most cruel war in history, her heart failed her, and
+she wept in unspeakable dread. It is the women, in the long run, who
+are the greater sufferers from the armed clash of nations!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mother who conceals her grief<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While to her breast her son she presses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then breathes a few brave words and brief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kissing the patriot brow she blesses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With no one but her secret God<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To know the pain that weighs upon her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sheds holy blood as e'er the sod<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Received on Freedom's field of honor!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It was three days later that Pen went away. There were many little
+matters to which he must attend before going. His mother must be
+safeguarded and her comfort looked after during his absence. His own
+private affairs must be left in such shape that in the event of his
+not returning they could easily be closed up. He permitted nothing to
+remain at loose ends. But to no one save to his employer and his
+mother did he confide his plans. He did not care to publish a purpose
+that lay so near to his heart. He went on the early morning train.
+Major Starbird was at the station to wring his hand and bid him
+Godspeed and wish him a safe return. But his mother was not there. She
+was in her room at home, her white face against the window, gazing
+with tear-wet eyes toward the south. She heard the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> distant rumble of
+the cars as they came, and the blasts from the far away whistle fell
+softly on her ears. And, by and by, the ever lengthening and fading
+line of smoke against the far horizon told her that the train bearing
+her only child to unknown and possibly dreadful destiny was on its
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Pen had been in New York before. On several memorable occasions, as a
+boy, he had accompanied his grandfather Butler to the city and had
+enjoyed the sights and sounds of the great metropolis, and had learned
+something of its ways and byways. He had no difficulty, therefore, in
+finding the address that had been given him by Major Starbird, and,
+having found it, he was made welcome there. He learned, what indeed he
+already knew, that Canada was not averse to filling out her quota of
+loyal troops for the great war by enlisting and training young men of
+good character and robust physique from the States. Armed with
+confidential letters of introduction and commendation, and certain
+other requisite documents, he left the quiet office on the busy street
+feeling that at last the desire of his heart was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> to be fully
+gratified. It was now late afternoon. He was to take a night train
+from the Grand Central station which would carry him by way of Albany
+to Toronto. Borne along by the crowd of home-going people he found
+himself on Broadway facing Trinity Church. The dusk of evening was
+already falling, and here and there the glow of electric lamps began
+to pierce the gloom. On one occasion he had wandered, with his
+grandfather, through Trinity Churchyard, and had read and been
+thrilled by inscriptions on ancient tomb-stones marking the graves of
+those who had served their country well in her early and struggling
+years. Had it been still day he would not have been able to resist the
+impulse to repeat that experience of his boyhood. As it was, he stood,
+for many minutes, peering through the iron railing that separated the
+living, hurrying throngs on the pavement from the narrow homes of
+those who, more than a century before, had served their generation by
+the will of God and had fallen on sleep.</p>
+
+<p>As he turned his eyes away from the deepening shadows of the graveyard
+it occurred to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> him that he would go to a hotel formerly frequented by
+Colonel Butler, and get his dinner there before going to the train. It
+would seem like old times, for it was there that they had stayed when
+he had accompanied his grandfather on those trips of his boyhood. To
+be sure the colonel would not be there, but delightful memories would
+be stirred by revisiting the place, and he felt that those memories
+would be most welcome this night.</p>
+
+<p>Ever more and more, in these latter days, his thoughts had turned
+toward his boyhood home. After six years of absence and estrangement
+there was still no tenderer spot in his heart, save the one occupied
+by his mother, than the spot in which reposed his memories of his
+childhood's hero, the master of Bannerhall. He wished that there might
+have been a reconciliation between them before he went to war. He
+would have given much if only he could have seen the stern face with
+its gray moustache and its piercing eyes, if he could have felt the
+warm grasp of the hand, if he could have heard the firm and kindly
+voice speak to him one word of farewell and Godspeed. He sighed as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>
+turned in at the subway kiosk and descended the steps to the platform
+to join the pushing and the jostling crowd on its homeward way. At the
+Grand Central Station he procured his railway tickets and checked his
+baggage and then came out into Forty-second street. After a few
+minutes of bewildered turning he located himself and made his way
+without further trouble to his hotel. But the place seemed strange to
+him now; not as spacious as when he was a boy, not as ornate, not as
+wonderful. It was only after he had eaten his dinner and come out
+again into the lobby that it took on any kind of a familiar air, and
+not until he was ready to depart that he could have imagined the erect
+form of Colonel Butler, with its imposing and attractive personality,
+approaching him through the crowd as he had so often seen it in other
+years.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as he turned toward the street door, a strange thing happened. A
+familiar figure emerged from a side corridor and came out into the
+main lobby in full view of the departing boy. It needed no second
+glance to convince Pen that this was indeed his grandfather. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>
+stern face, the white, drooping moustache, the still soldierly
+bearing, could belong to no one else. The colonel stopped for a minute
+to make inquiry and obtain information from a hotel attendant, then,
+having apparently learned what he wished to know, he stood looking
+searchingly about him.</p>
+
+<p>Pen stood still in his tracks and wondered what he should do. The
+vision had come upon him so suddenly that it had quite taken away his
+breath. But it did not take long for him to decide. He would do the
+obvious and manly thing and let the consequences take care of
+themselves. He stepped forward and held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, grandfather," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler turned an unrecognizing glance on the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"You have the advantage of me, sir," he replied. "I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped speaking suddenly, his face flushed, and a look of glad
+surprise came into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Penfield!" he exclaimed, "is this you?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>But, before Pen had time to respond, either by word or movement, to
+the greeting, the old man's gloved hand which had been thrust partly
+forward, fell back to his side, the light of recognition left his
+eyes, and he stood, as stern-faced and determined as he had stood on
+that February night, years ago, asking about a boy and a flag.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandfather," said Pen, "it is I."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel did not turn away, nor did any harsh word come to his
+lips. He spoke with cold courtesy, as he might have spoken to any
+casual acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a surprise, sir. I had not expected to see you here."</p>
+
+<p>He made a brave effort to control his voice, but it trembled in spite
+of him.</p>
+
+<p>Pen's heart was stirred with sudden pity. He saw as he looked on his
+grandfather's face, that age and sorrow had made sad inroads during
+these few years. The hair and moustache, iron-gray before, were now
+completely white, the countenance was deep-lined and sallow, the eyes
+had lost their piercing brightness. But Pen did not permit his
+surprise, or his sorrow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> or his grief at the manner of his reception,
+to show itself by any word or look.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor did I expect to see you," he said. "Have you been long in the
+city?"</p>
+
+<p>"I arrived less than an hour ago. I expect to meet here my friend
+Colonel Marshall with whom I shall discuss the state of the country."</p>
+
+<p>"Did&mdash;did you come alone?"</p>
+
+<p>It was the wrong thing to say, and Pen knew it the moment he had said
+it. But the old man's appearance of feebleness had aroused in him the
+sudden thought that he ought not to be traveling alone, and,
+impulsively, he had given expression to the thought. Colonel Butler
+straightened his shoulders and turned upon his grandson a look of fine
+scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"I came alone, sir," he replied. "How else did you expect me to come?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I thought possibly Aunt Milly might have come along."</p>
+
+<p>"In troublous times like these the woman's place is at the fire-side.
+The man's duty should lead him wherever his country calls, or wherever
+he can be of service to a people de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>fending themselves against the
+onslaught of armed autocracy."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>"I am therefore here to take counsel with certain men of judgment
+concerning the participation of this country in the bloody struggle
+that is going on abroad. After that I shall proceed to Washington to
+urge upon the heads of our government my belief that the time is ripe
+to throw the weight of our influence, and the weight of our wealth,
+and the weight of our armies, into the scale with France and Great
+Britain for the subjugation of those central powers that are waging
+upon these gallant countries a most unjust and unrighteous war."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandfather; I agree with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you do, sir. No right-minded man could fail to agree with
+me. And I shall tender my sword and my services, to be at the disposal
+of my country, in whatever branch of the service the Secretary of War
+may see fit to assign me as soon as war is declared. As a matter of
+fact, sir, we are already at war with Germany. Both by land and sea
+she has, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> the last year, been making open war upon our commerce,
+on our citizens, on the integrity of our government. It is
+exasperating, sir, exasperating beyond measure, to see the authorities
+at Washington drifting aimlessly and unpreparedly into an armed
+conflict which is bound to come. Our president should demand from
+congress at once a declaration that a state of war exists with
+Germany, and with that declaration should go a system of organized
+preparedness, and then, sir, we should go to Europe and fight, and,
+thus fighting, help our Allies and save our native land. It shall be
+my errand to Washington to urge such an aggressive course."</p>
+
+<p>Of his belief in his theory there could be no doubt. Of his
+earnestness in advocating it there was not the slightest question. His
+profound sympathy with the Allies did credit to his heart as well as
+his judgment. And the devotion of this one-armed and enfeebled veteran
+to the cause of his own country, his eagerness to serve her in the
+field and his confidence in his ability still to do so, were pathetic
+as well as inspiring. It was all so big, and patriotic,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> and splendid,
+even in its childish egotism and simplicity, that the pure absurdity
+of it found no place in the mind of this affectionate and
+manly-hearted boy.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you are right, grandfather," he said, "and it's noble of
+you to offer your services that way."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>The colonel turned as if to move toward the information desk at the
+office, and then turned back.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me!" he said, "but I forgot to inquire concerning your own
+errand in the city."</p>
+
+<p>"I am on my way to Canada, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p>A look of surprise came into the old man's eyes, followed at once by
+an expression of infinite scorn. He remembered that, in the days of
+the civil war, slackers and rebel sympathizers who wished to evade the
+draft made their way across the national border into Canada. They had
+received the contempt of their own generation and had drawn a
+figurative bar-sinister across the shield of their descendants. Could
+it be possible that this grandchild of his was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> about to add disgrace
+to disloyalty? That, in addition to heaping insults on the flag of his
+country as a boy, he was now, as a man, taking time by the forelock
+and escaping to the old harbor of safety to avoid some possible future
+conscription? The absurdity and impracticability of such a proposition
+did not occur to him at the moment, only the humiliation and the
+horror of it.</p>
+
+<p>"To Canada, sir?" he demanded; "the refuge of cowards and copperheads!
+Why to Canada, sir, in the face of this impending crisis in your
+country's affairs?"</p>
+
+<p>His voice rose at the end in angry protest. The look of scorn that
+blazed from under his gray eye-brows was withering in its intensity.
+Pen, who was sufficiently familiar with the history of the civil war
+to know what lay in his grandfather's mind, answered quickly but
+quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to Canada to enlist."</p>
+
+<p>"To&mdash;to what? Enlist?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; in the American Legion; to fight under the Union Jack in
+France."</p>
+
+<p>A pillar stood near by, and the colonel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> backed up against it for
+support. The shock of the surprise, the sudden revulsion of feeling,
+left him nerveless.</p>
+
+<p>"And you&mdash;you are going to war?"</p>
+
+<p>He could not quite believe it yet. He wanted confirmation.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, grandfather; I'm going to war. I couldn't stay out of it. Until
+my own country takes up arms I'll fight under another flag. When she
+does get into it I hope to fight under the Stars and Stripes."</p>
+
+<p>A wonderful look came into the old man's face, a look of pride, of
+satisfaction, of unadulterated joy. His mouth twitched as though he
+desired to speak and could not. Then, suddenly, he thrust out his one
+arm and seized Pen's hand in a mighty and affectionate grip. In that
+moment the sorrow, the bitterness, the estrangement of years vanished,
+never to return.</p>
+
+<p>"I am proud of you, sir!" he said. "You are worthy of your illustrious
+ancestors. You are maintaining the best traditions of Bannerhall."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you're pleased, grandfather."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>"Pleased is too mild an expression. I am rejoiced. It is the proudest
+moment of my life." He stepped away from the pillar, straightened his
+shoulders, and gazed benignantly on his grandson. "Not that I
+especially desire," he added after a moment, "that you should be
+subjected to the hazards and the hardships of a soldier's life. That
+goes without saying. But it is the hazards and the hardships he faces
+that make the soldier a hero. Death itself has no terrors for the
+patriotic brave. '<em>Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.</em>'"</p>
+
+<p>His eyes wandered away into some alluring distance and his thought
+into the fields of memory, and for a moment he was silent. Nor did Pen
+speak. He felt that the occasion was too momentous, the event too
+sacred to be spoiled by unnecessary words from him.</p>
+
+<p>It was the colonel who at last broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not an opportune time," he said, "to speak of the past. But, as
+to the future, you may rest in confidence. While you are absent your
+mother shall be looked after. Her every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> want shall be supplied. It
+will be my delight to attend to the matter personally."</p>
+
+<p>Swift tears sprang to Pen's eyes. Surely the beautiful, the tender
+side of life was again turning toward him. It was with difficulty that
+he was able sufficiently to control his voice to reply:</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, grandfather! You are very good to us."</p>
+
+<p>"Do not mention it! How about your own wants? Have you money
+sufficient to carry you to your destination?"</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you! I have all the money I need."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I shall communicate with you later, and see that you lack
+nothing for your comfort. Will you kindly send me your address when
+you are permanently located in your training camp?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I will."</p>
+
+<p>Pen glanced at his watch and saw that he had but a few minutes left in
+which to catch his train.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry, grandfather," he said, "but when I met you I was just
+starting for the station to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> take my train north; and now, if I don't
+hurry, I'll get left."</p>
+
+<p>He held out his hand and the old man grasped it anew.</p>
+
+<p>"Penfield, my boy;" his voice was firm and brave as he spoke.
+"Penfield, my boy, quit yourself like the man that you are! Remember
+whose blood courses in your veins! Remember that you are an American
+citizen and be proud of it. Farewell!"</p>
+
+<p>He parted his white moustache, bent over, pressed a kiss upon his
+grandson's forehead, swung him about to face the door, and watched his
+form as he retreated. When he turned again he found his friend,
+Colonel Marshall, standing at his side.</p>
+
+<p>"I have just bidden farewell," he said proudly, "to my grandson,
+Master Penfield Butler, who is leaving on the next train for Canada
+where he will go into training with the American Legion, and
+eventually fight under the Union Jack, on the war-scarred fields of
+France."</p>
+
+<p>"He is a brave and patriotic boy," replied Colonel Marshall.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>"It is in his blood and breeding, sir. No Butler of my line was ever
+yet a coward, or ever failed to respond to a patriotic call."</p>
+
+<p>And as for Pen, midnight found him speeding northward with a heart
+more full and grateful, and a purpose more splendidly fixed, than his
+life had ever before known.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was late in the day following his departure from New York that Pen
+reached his destination in Canada. In a certain suburban town not far
+from Toronto he found a great training camp. It was here that selected
+units of the new Dominion armies received their military instruction
+prior to being sent abroad. It was here also that many of the young
+men from the States, desirous of fighting under the Union Jack, came
+to enlist with the Canadian troops and to receive their first lessons
+in the science of warfare. Canada was stirred as she had never been
+stirred before in all her history. Her troops already at the front had
+received their first great baptism of fire at Langemarck. They had
+fought desperately, they had won splendidly, but their losses had been
+appalling. So the young men of Canada, eager to avenge the slaughter
+of their countrymen, were hastening to fill the depleted ranks, and
+the young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> men from the States were proud to bear them company.</p>
+
+<p>But life in the training camps was no holiday. It was hard, steady,
+strenuous business, carried on under the most rigid form of
+discipline. Yet the men were well clothed, well fed, had comfortable
+quarters, enjoyed regular periods of recreation, and were content with
+their lot, save that their eagerness to complete their training and
+get to the firing line inevitably manifested itself in expressions of
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>To get up at 5:30 in the morning and drill for an hour before
+breakfast was no great task, nor two successive hours of fighting with
+tipped bayonets, nor throwing of real bombs and hand-grenades, nor was
+the back-breaking digging of trenches, nor the exhaustion from long
+marches, if only by such experiences they could fit themselves
+eventually to fight their enemy not only with courage but also with
+that skill and efficiency which counts for so much in modern warfare.</p>
+
+<p>It was ten days after Pen's enlistment that, being off duty, he
+crossed the parade ground<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> one evening and went into the large reading
+and recreation room of the Young Men's Christian Association,
+established and maintained there for the benefit of the troops in
+training. He had no errand except that he wished to write a letter to
+his mother, and the conveniences offered made it a favorite place for
+letter writing.</p>
+
+<p>There were few people in the room, for it was still early, and the
+writing tables were comparatively unoccupied. But at one of them, with
+his back to the entrance, sat a young man in uniform busy with his
+correspondence. Pen glanced at him casually as he sat down to write;
+his quarter face only was visible. But the glance had left an
+impression on his mind that the face and figure were those of some one
+he had at some time known. He selected his writing paper and took up a
+pen, but the feeling within him that he must look again and see if he
+could possibly recognize his comrade in arms was too strong to be
+resisted. Apparently the feeling was mutual, for when Pen did turn his
+eyes in the direction of the other visitor, he found that the young
+man had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> ceased writing, and was sitting erect in his chair and
+looking squarely at him. It needed no second glance to convince him
+that his companion was none other than Aleck Sands. For a moment there
+was an awkward pause. It was apparent that the recognition was mutual,
+but it was apparent also that in the shock of surprise neither boy
+knew quite what to do. It was Aleck who made the first move. He rose,
+crossed the room to where Pen was sitting, and held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Pen," he said, "are you willing to shake hands with me now? You know
+I was dog enough once to refuse a like offer from you."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not only willing but glad to, if you want to let bygones be
+bygones."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll agree to that if you will agree to forgive me for what I've done
+against you and against the flag."</p>
+
+<p>"What you've done against the flag?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen was staring at him in surprise. When had the burden of that guilt
+been shifted?</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I," answered Aleck. "I did far more against the flag that day at
+Chestnut Hill than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> you ever thought of doing. I haven't realized it
+until lately, but now that I do know it, I'm trying in every way I
+possibly can to make it right."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you didn't trample on it, nor speak of it disrespectfully, nor
+refuse to apologize to it; it was I who did all that."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, but I dogged you into it. If I myself had paid proper respect
+to the flag you would never have got into that trouble. Pen, I never
+did a more unpatriotic, contemptible thing in my life than I did when
+I wrapped that flag around me and dared you to molest me. It was a
+cowardly use to make of the Stars and Stripes. Moreover, I did it
+deliberately, and you&mdash;you acted on the impulse of the moment. It was
+I who committed the real fault, and it has been you who have suffered
+for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I gave you a pretty good punching, didn't I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but the punching you gave me was not a thousandth part of what I
+deserved; and, if you think it would even matters up any, I'd be
+perfectly willing to stand up to-night and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> let you knock me down a
+dozen times. Since this war came on I've despised myself more than I
+can tell you for my treatment of the flag that day, and for my
+treatment of you ever since."</p>
+
+<p>That he was in dead earnest there could be no doubt. Phlegmatic and
+conservative by nature, when he was once roused he was not easily
+suppressed. Pen began to feel sorry for him.</p>
+
+<p>"You're too hard on yourself," he said. "I think you did make a
+mistake that day, so did I. But we were both kids, and in a way we
+were irresponsible."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. There's something in that, to be sure. But that doesn't
+excuse me for letting the thing go as I got older and knew better, and
+letting you bear all the blame and all the punishment, and never
+lifting a finger to try to help you out. That was mean and
+contemptible."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's all over now, so forget it."</p>
+
+<p>"But I haven't been able to forget it. I've thought of it night and
+day for a year. A dozen times I've started to hunt you up and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> tell
+you what I'm telling you to-night, and every time I've backed out. I
+couldn't bear to face the music. And when I heard that they turned you
+down when you tried to enlist in the Guard at Lowbridge, on account of
+the old trouble, that capped the climax. I couldn't stand it any
+longer; I felt that I had to shoulder my part of that burden somehow,
+and that the very best way for me to do it was to go and fight; and if
+I couldn't fight under my own flag, then to go and fight under the
+next best flag, the Union Jack. I felt that after I'd had my baptism
+of fire I'd have the face and courage to go to you and tell you what
+I've been telling you now. But I'm glad it's over. My soul! I'm glad
+it's over!"</p>
+
+<p>He dropped into a chair by the table and rested his head on his open
+hand as though the recital of his story had exhausted him. Pen stood
+over him and laid a comforting arm about his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, old man!" he said. "You've done the fair thing, and a
+great lot more. Now let's call quits and talk about something else.
+When did you come up here?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>"Five days ago. I'm just getting into the swing."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're exactly the right sort. I'm mighty glad you're here.
+We'll fix it so we can be in the same company, and bunk together. What
+do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid! if you're willing. Can it be done? I'm in company M of the
+&mdash;th Battalion."</p>
+
+<p>"I know of the same thing having been done since I've been here. We'll
+try it on, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>They did try it on, and three days later the transfer was made. After
+that they were comrades indeed, occupying the same quarters, marching
+shoulder to shoulder with each other in the ranks, sharing with each
+other all the comforts and privations of life in the barracks, moved
+by a common impulse of patriotism and chivalry, longing for the day to
+come when they could prove their mettle under fire.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not until February 1916 that they went abroad. After three
+months of intensive training they were hardened, supple, and skillful.
+But their military education was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> not yet complete. Commanders of
+armies know that raw or semi-raw troops are worse than useless in
+modern warfare. Soldiers in these days must know their business
+thoroughly if they are to meet an enemy on equal terms. They must be
+artisans as well as soldiers, laborers as well as riflemen, human
+machines compounded of blood and courage.</p>
+
+<p>So, in a great camp not far from London, there were three months more
+of drill and discipline and drastic preparation for the firing line.</p>
+
+<p>But at last, in late May, when the young grass was green on England's
+lawns, and the wings of birds were flashing everywhere in the
+sunshine, and nature was rioting in leaf and flower, a troop-ship,
+laden to the gunwales with the finest and the best of Canada's young
+patriots and many of the most stalwart youth of the States, landed on
+the welcoming shore of France. In England evidences of the great war
+had been marked, abundant and harrowing. But here, in the country
+whose soil had been invaded, the grim and stirring actualities of the
+mighty conflict were brought home to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> the onlooker with startling
+distinctness. At the railroad station, where the troops entrained for
+the front, every sight and sound was eloquent with the tenseness of
+preparation and the tragedy of the long fight. Soldiers were
+everywhere. Coats of blue, trousers of red, jackets of green, gave
+color and variety to the prevailing mass of sober khaki. Here too,
+dotting the hurrying throng, were the pathetic figures of the stricken
+and wounded, haggard, bandaged, limping, maimed, on canes and
+crutches, back from the front, released from the hospitals, seeking
+the rest and quiet that their sacrifices and heroism had so well
+earned. And here too, ministering to the needs of the suffering and
+the helpless, were many of the white-robed nurses of the Red Cross.</p>
+
+<p>It was evening when the train bearing the first section of the &mdash;th
+Battalion of Canadian Light Infantry to which Pen and Aleck belonged
+steamed slowly out of the station. All night, in the darkness, across
+the fields and through the fine old forests of northern France the
+slow rumble of the coaches, interrupted by many stops, kept up. But in
+the gray of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> the early morning, a short distance beyond Amiens, in the
+midst of a mist covered meadow, the train pulled up for the last time.
+This had been fighting ground. Here the invading hosts of Germany had
+been met and driven back. Ruined farm houses, shattered trees, lines
+of old trenches scarring the surface of the meadow, all told their
+eloquent tale of ruthless and devastating war. And yonder, in the
+valley, the slow-moving Somme wound its shadowy way between green
+banks and overhanging foliage as peacefully and beautifully as though
+its silent waters had never been flecked with the blood of dying men.
+Even now, as the troops detrained and marched to the sections of the
+field assigned them, the dull and continuous roar of cannon in the
+distance came to their ears with menacing distinctness.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the thunder of the guns!" exclaimed Pen. "I hope to-morrow finds
+us where they're firing them."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm with you," responded Aleck. "I shall be frightened to death when
+they first put me under fire, but the sooner I'm hardened to it the
+better."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>"Tut! You'll be as brave as a lion. It's your kind that wins battles."</p>
+
+<p>Pen turned his face toward a horizon lost in a haze of smoke, and the
+look in his eyes showed that he at least, would be no coward when the
+supreme moment came. Lieutenant Davis of their company strolled by;
+impatiently waiting for further orders. He was a strict disciplinarian
+indeed, but he was very human and his men all loved him. Pen pointed
+in the direction from which came the muffled sounds of warfare.</p>
+
+<p>"When shall we be there, Lieutenant?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Butler," was the response. "It may be to-morrow; it may
+be next month. Only those in high command know and they're not
+telling. We may camp right here for weeks."</p>
+
+<p>But they did not camp there. In the early evening there came marching
+orders, and, under cover of darkness, the entire battalion swung into
+a muddy and congested road and tramped along it for many hours. But
+they got no nearer to the fighting line. Weary,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> hungry and thirsty,
+they stopped at last on the face of a gently sloping hill protected
+from the north by a forest which had not yet suffered destruction
+either at the hands of sappers or from the violence of shells. It was
+apparent that this had been a camp for a large body of troops before
+the advancement of the lines. It was deserted now, but there were many
+caves in the hillside, and hundreds of little huts made of earth and
+wood under the sheltering trunks and branches of the trees. It was in
+one of these huts that Pen and Aleck, together with four of their
+comrades, were billeted. It was not long after their arrival before
+hastily built fires were burning, and coffee, hot and fragrant, was
+brewing, to refresh the tired bodies of the men, until the arrival of
+the provision trains should supply them with a more substantial
+breakfast. There was plenty of straw, however, and on that the weary
+troops threw themselves down and slept.</p>
+
+<p>At this camp the battalion remained until the middle of June. There
+were drills, marching and battalion maneuvers by day, such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> recreation
+in the evenings as camp life could afford, sound sleeping on beds of
+straw at night, and always, from the distance, sometimes loud and
+continuous, sometimes faint and occasional, the thunder of the guns.
+And always, too, along the muddy high-road at the foot of the slope, a
+never-ending procession of provision and munition trains laboring
+toward the front, and the human wreckage of the firing line, and
+troops released from the trenches, passing painfully to the rear. No
+wonder the men grew impatient and longed for the activities of the
+front even though their ears were ever filled with tales of horror
+from the lips of those who had survived the ordeal of battle.</p>
+
+<p>But, soon after the middle of June, their desires were realized.
+Orders came to break camp and prepare to march, to what point no one
+seemed to know, but every one hoped and expected it would be to the
+trenches. There was a day of bustle and hurry. The men stocked up
+their haversacks, filled their canteens and cartridge-boxes, put their
+guns in complete readiness, and at five o'clock in the afternoon were
+assembled and began their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> march. The road was ankle-deep with mud,
+for there had been much rain, and it was congested with endless
+convoys. There were many delays. A heavy mist fell and added to the
+uncertainty, the weariness and discomfort. But no complaint escaped
+from any man's lips, for they all felt that at last they were going
+into action. Four hours of marching brought them into the neighborhood
+of the British heavy artillery concealed under branches broken from
+trees or in mud huts, directing their fire on the enemy's lines by the
+aid of signals from lookouts far in advance or in the air. The noise
+of these big guns was terrific, but inspiring. At nine o'clock there
+was a halt of sufficient length to serve the men with coffee and
+bread, and then the march was resumed. By and by shells from the guns
+of the Allies began to shriek high over the heads of the marching men,
+and were replied to by the enemy shells humming and whining by,
+seeking out and endeavoring to silence the Allied artillery. Now and
+then one of these missiles would burst in the rear of the column,
+sending up a glare of flame and a cloud of dust<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> and debris, but at
+what cost in life no one in the line knew.</p>
+
+<p>As the men advanced the mud grew deeper, the way narrower, the
+congestion greater. The passing of enemy shells was less frequent, but
+precautions for safety were increased. Advantage was taken of ravines,
+of fences, of fourth and fifth line trenches. The troops ere not
+beyond range of the German sharpshooters, and the swish of bullets was
+heard occasionally in the air above the heads of the marchers.</p>
+
+<p>It was toward morning that the destination of the column was reached,
+and, in single file, the men of Pen's section passed down an incline
+into their first communicating trench, and then past a maze of lateral
+trenches to the opening into the salients they were to supply. It was
+here that the soldiers whom they were to relieve filed out by them.
+Going forward, they took the places of the retiring section. At last
+they were in the first line trench, with the enemy trenches scarcely a
+hundred meters in front of them. Sentries were placed at the
+loop-holes made in the earth embankment, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> the remainder of the
+section retired to their dug-outs. These under-ground rooms, built
+down and out from the trench, and bomb-proof, were capable of holding
+from eight to a dozen men. They were carpeted with straw, some of them
+had shelves, and in many of them discarded bayonets were driven into
+the walls to form hooks. It was in these places that the men who were
+off duty rested and ate and slept.</p>
+
+<p>In the gray light of the early June morning, Pen, who had been posted
+at one of the loop-holes as a listening sentry, looked out to see what
+lay in front of him. But the most that could be seen were the long and
+winding earth embankments that marked the lines of the German
+entrenchments, and between, on "no man's land," a maze of barbed wire
+entanglements. No living human being was in sight, but, at one place,
+crumpled up, partly sustained by meshes of wire, there was a ragged
+heap, the sight of which sent a chill to the boy's heart. It required
+no second glance to discover that this was the unrescued body of a
+soldier who had been too daring. Pen had seen his first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> war-slain
+corpse. Indeed, war was becoming to him now a reality. For, suddenly,
+a little of the soft earth at his side spattered into his face. An
+enemy bullet had struck there. In his eagerness to see he had exposed
+too much of his head and shoulders and had become the target for Boche
+sharpshooters. Other bullets pattered down around his loop-hole, and
+only by seeking the quick shelter of the trench did he escape injury
+or death. It was his first lesson in self-protection on the
+firing-line, but he profited by it. Two hours later he and Aleck, who
+had also been doing duty on a lookout platform, were relieved by their
+comrades, and threw themselves down on the straw of their dug-out and,
+wearied to the point of exhaustion, slept soundly. With the dawning of
+day the noise of cannonading increased, the whining of deadly missiles
+grew more incessant, the crash of exploding shells more frequent, but,
+until they were roused by their sergeant and bidden to eat their
+breakfast which had been brought by a ration-party, both boys slept.
+So soon had the menacing sounds of war become familiar to their ears.
+After<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> breakfast those who were not on sentry duty were put to work
+repairing trenches, filling sand-bags, enlarging dug-outs, pumping
+water from low places, cleaning rifles, performing a hundred tasks
+which were necessary to make trench life endurable and reasonably
+safe. The food was good and was still abundant. There were fresh meat,
+bacon, canned soups and vegetables, bread, butter, jam and coffee. The
+two hours on sentry duty were by far the most strenuous in the daily
+routine. To remain in one position, with eyes glued to the narrow slit
+in the embankment, gas mask at hand, hand-grenades in readiness, rifle
+in position ready to be discharged on the second, the fate of the
+whole army perhaps resting on one man's vigilance, this was no easy
+task.</p>
+
+<p>But there were no complaints. The men were on the firing line, ready
+to obey orders, whatever they might be; they asked only one thing
+more, and that was to fight. But, in these days, there was a lull in
+the actual fighting. The "big drive" had not yet been launched. Aside
+from a skirmish now and then, a fierce bombardment for a few hours,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>
+an attempt, on one side or the other, to rush a trench, there was
+little aggressive warfare in this neighborhood, and few casualties;
+nor was there any material variance in the front lines of trenches on
+either side. There were six days of this kind of duty and then the men
+of Pen's company were relieved and sent to the rear for a week's rest,
+to act as reserves, and to be called during that time only in case of
+an emergency. But the following week saw them again at the front; not
+in the same trench where they had first served, but in an advanced
+position farther to the south. The trenches here were not so roomy nor
+so dry as had been those of the first assignment. There was much mud,
+slippery and deep, to be contended with, and the walls at the sides
+were continually caving in. The duties of the men, however, were not
+materially different from those with which they were already familiar.
+Clashes had been more frequent here, and the dead bodies of soldiers,
+crumpled up in the trench or lying, unrescued, on the scarred and
+fire-swept surface of "no man's land" were not an unusual sight. But
+the "rookies" were becoming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> hardened now to many of the horrors of
+war.</p>
+
+<p>It was while they were in this trench that Pen had his "baptism of
+fire." Late one afternoon the German artillery began shelling fiercely
+the first line of Allied trenches. Aleck and Pen were both on sentry
+duty. Just beyond them Lieutenant Davis stood at an advanced lookout
+post intent on studying the outside situation by means of his
+periscope. At irregular intervals machine guns, deftly hidden from the
+sight of the enemy, poked their menacing mouths toward the Boche
+lines. Now and then, finding its mark at some point in the course of
+the winding trench, an enemy shell would explode throwing clouds of
+dust and debris into the air, wrecking the earthworks where it fell,
+taking its toll of human lives and limbs. Twice Pen was thrown off his
+feet by the shock of near-by explosions, but he escaped injury, as did
+also Aleck. It was apparent that the Germans were either making a
+feint for the purpose of attacking at some unexpected point, or else
+that they were preparing for a charge on the trenches which they were
+bombarding. It developed that the latter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> theory was the correct one,
+for, after a while, they directed their fire to the rear of the first
+line trenches, and set up a still more furious bombardment. This, as
+every one knew, was for the purpose of preventing the British from
+bringing up reinforcements, and to give their own troops the
+opportunity to charge into the Allied front. The charge was not long
+delayed. A gray wave poured over the parapet of the German first line
+trench, rolled through the prepared openings in their own barbed-wire
+entanglements, and advanced, alternately running and creeping, toward
+the Allied line. But when the Germans were once in the open a terrible
+thing happened to them. The machine guns from all along the British
+trenches met them with a rain of bullets that mowed them down as grain
+falls to the blades of the farmer's reaper. The rifles of the men in
+khaki, resting on the benches of the parapet, spit constant and deadly
+fire at them. The artillery to the rear, in constant telephone touch
+with the first line, quickly found the range and dropped shells into
+the charging mass with terrible effect. A second body of gray-clad
+sol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>diers with fixed bayonets swarmed out of the German trenches and
+came to the help of their hard-beset comrades, and met a similar fate.
+Then a third platoon came on, and a fourth. The resources of the enemy
+in men seemed endless, their persistence remarkable, their
+recklessness in the face of sure death almost unbelievable. The noise
+was terrific; the constant rattle of the machine guns, the spitting of
+rifles, the booming of the artillery, the whining and crashing of
+shells, the yells of the charging troops, the shrieks of the wounded.
+In the British trenches the men were assembled, ready to pour out at
+the whistle and repel the assault on open ground; but it was not
+necessary for them to do so. The German ranks, unable to withstand the
+fire that devoured them as they met it, a fire that it was humanly
+impossible for any troops to withstand, turned back and sought the
+shelter of their trenches, leaving their dead and wounded piled and
+sprawled by the hundreds on the ground they had failed to cross.</p>
+
+<p>The casualties among the Canadian troops were not large, and they had
+occurred mostly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> before the charge had been launched, but it was in
+deep sorrow that the men from across the ocean gathered up from the
+shattered trenches the pierced and broken bodies of their comrades,
+and sent them to the rear, the living to be cared for in the
+hospitals, the dead to be buried on the soil of France where they had
+bravely fought and nobly died.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h3>
+
+
+<p>The great Somme drive began on July 1, 1916, after a week's
+devastating bombardment of the German lines. The enemy trenches had
+been torn and shattered, and when the Allied armies, in great numbers
+and with abundant ammunition, swept out and down upon them, the
+impetus and force of the advance were irresistible. Trenches were
+blotted out. Towns were taken. The German lines melted away over wide
+areas. Victory, decisive and permanent, rested on the Allied banners.
+On the third of the month the British took La Boiselle and four
+thousand three hundred prisoners. But on the fourth the enemy troops
+turned and fought like wild animals at bay. This was the day on which
+Aleck received his wounds. In the morning, as they lay sprawled in a
+ravine which had been captured the night before, waiting for orders to
+push still farther on, Aleck had said to Pen:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>"You know what day this is, comrade?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I do!" was the reply, "it's Independence Day."</p>
+
+<p>"Right you are. I wish I could get sight of an American flag. It will
+be the first time in my life that I haven't seen 'Old Glory' somewhere
+on the Fourth of July."</p>
+
+<p>"True. Back yonder in the States they'll be having parades and
+speeches, and the flag will be flying from every masthead. If only
+they could be made to realize that it's really that flag that we're
+fighting for, you and I, and drop this cloak of neutrality, and come
+over here as a nation and help us, wouldn't that be glorious?"</p>
+
+<p>Pen's face was grimy, his uniform was torn and stained, his hair was
+tousled; somewhere he had lost his cap and the times were too
+strenuous to get another; but out from his eyes there shone a
+tenderness, a longing, a determination that marked him as a true
+soldier of the American Legion.</p>
+
+<p>The cannonading had again begun. Shells were whining and whistling
+above their heads and exploding in the enemy lines not far be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>yond.
+Off to the right, a village in flames sent up great clouds of smoke,
+and the roar of the conflagration was joined to the noise of
+artillery. Back of the lines the ground was strewn with wreckage,
+pitted with shell-holes, ghastly with its harvest of bodies of the
+slain. With rifles gripped, bayonets ready, hand grenades near by, the
+boys lay waiting for the word of command.</p>
+
+<p>"Aleck?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, comrade."</p>
+
+<p>"Over yonder at Chestnut Hill, on the school-grounds, the flag will be
+floating from the top of the staff to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. It will be a pretty sight. I used to be ashamed to look
+at it. You know why. To-day I could stare at it and glory in it for
+hours."</p>
+
+<p>"That flag at the school-house is the most beautiful American flag in
+the world. I never saw it but once, but it thrilled me then
+unspeakably. I have loved it ever since. I can think of but one other
+sight that would be more beautiful and thrilling."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is that?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>"To see 'Old Glory' waving from the top of a flag-staff here on the
+soil of France, signifying that our country has taken up the cause of
+the Allies and thrown herself, with all her heart and might into this
+war."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait; you will see it, comrade, you will see it. It can't be delayed
+for long now."</p>
+
+<p>Then the order came to advance. In a storm of shrapnel, bullets and
+flame, the British host swept down again upon the foe. The Germans
+gave desperate and deadly resistance. They fought hand to hand, with
+bayonets and clubbed muskets and grenades. It was a death grapple,
+with decisive victory on neither side. In the wild onrush and terrific
+clash, Pen lost touch with his comrade. Only once he saw him after the
+charge was launched. Aleck waved to him and smiled and plunged into
+the thick of the carnage. Two hours later, staggering with shock and
+heat and superficial wounds, and choking with thirst and the smoke and
+dust of conflict, Pen made his way with the survivors of his section
+back over the ground that had been traversed, to find rest and
+refreshment at the rear. They had been relieved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> by fresh troops sent
+in to hold the narrow strip of territory that had been gained.
+Stumbling along over the torn soil, through wreckage indescribable,
+among dead bodies lying singly and in heaps, stopping now and then to
+aid a dying man, or give such comfort as he could to a wounded and
+helpless comrade, Pen struggled slowly and painfully toward a resting
+spot.</p>
+
+<p>At one place, through eyes half blinded by sweat and smoke and
+trickling blood, he saw a man partially reclining against a post to
+which a tangled and broken mass of barbed wire was still clinging. The
+man was evidently making weak and ineffectual attempts to care for his
+own wounds. Pen stopped to assist him if he could. Looking down into
+his face he saw that it was Aleck. He was not shocked, nor did he
+manifest any surprise. He had seen too much of the actuality of war to
+be startled now by any sight or sound however terrible. He simply
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, old man, I see they got you. Here, let me help."</p>
+
+<p>He knelt down by the side of his wounded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> comrade, and, with shaking
+hands, endeavored to staunch the flow of blood and to bind up two
+dreadful wounds, a gaping, jagged hole in the breast beneath the
+shoulder, made by the thrust and twist of a Boche bayonet, and a torn
+and shattered knee.</p>
+
+<p>Aleck did not at first recognize him, but a moment later, seeing who
+it was that had stopped to help him, he reached up a trembling hand
+and laid it on his friend's face. Something in his mouth or throat had
+gone wrong and he could not speak.</p>
+
+<p>After exhausting his comrade's emergency kit and his own in first aid
+treatment of the wounds, Pen called for assistance to a soldier who
+was staggering by, and between them, across the torn field with its
+crimson and ghastly fruitage, with fragments of shrapnel hurtling
+above them, and with bodies of soldiers, dead and living, tossed into
+the murky air by constantly exploding shells, they half carried, half
+dragged the wounded man across the ravine and up the hill to a
+captured German trench, and turned him over to the stretcher-bearers
+to be taken to the ambulances.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>It was after this day's fighting that Pen, "for conspicuous bravery in
+action," was promoted to the rank of sergeant. He wore his honor
+modestly. It gave him, perhaps, a better opportunity to do good work
+for Britain and for France, and to rehabilitate himself in the eyes of
+his own countrymen; otherwise it did not matter.</p>
+
+<p>So the fighting on the Somme went on day after day, week after week,
+persistent, desperate, bloody. It was early in August, after the
+terrific battle by which the whole of Delville Wood passed into
+British control, that Pen's battalion was relieved and sent far to the
+rear for a long rest. Even unwounded men cannot stand the strain of
+continuous battle for many weeks at a stretch. The nervous system,
+delicate and complicated, must have relief, or the physical
+organization will collapse, or the mind give way, or both.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the first night's march from the front the battalion
+camped in the streets of a little, half-wrecked village on the banks
+of the Avre. Up on the hillside was a long, rambling building which
+had once been a con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>vent but was now a hospital. Pen knew that
+somewhere in a hospital back of the Somme Aleck was still lying, too
+ill to be moved farther to the rear. It occurred to him that he might
+find him here. So, in the hazy moonlight of the August evening, having
+obtained the necessary leave, he set out to make inquiry. He passed up
+the winding walk, under a canopy of fine old trees, and reached the
+entrance to the building. From the porch, looking to the north, toward
+the valley of the Somme, he could see on the horizon the dull gleam of
+red that marked the battle line, and he could hear the faint
+reverberations of the big guns that told of the fighting still in
+progress. But here it was very quiet, very peaceful, very beautiful.
+For the first time since his entrance into the great struggle he
+longed for an end of the strife, and a return to the calm, sweet,
+lovely things of life. But he did not permit this mood to remain long
+with him. He knew that the war must go on until the spirit that
+launched it was subdued and crushed, and that he must go with it to
+whatever end God might will.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>He found Aleck there. He had felt that he would, and while he was
+delighted he was not greatly surprised. There was little emotion
+manifested at the meeting of the two boys. The horrors of war were too
+close and too vivid yet for that. But the fact that they were glad to
+look again into one another's eyes admitted of no doubt. Aleck had
+recovered the use of his voice, but he was still too weak to talk at
+any length. The bayonet wound in his shoulder had healed nicely, but
+his shattered knee had come terribly near to costing him his life.
+There had been infection. Amputation of the leg had been imminent. The
+surgeons and the nurses had struggled with the case for weeks and had
+finally conquered.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall still have two legs," said Aleck jocosely, "and I'll be glad
+of that; but I'm afraid this one will be a weak brother for a long
+time. I won't be kicking football this fall, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"It's the fortune of war," replied Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"I know. I'm not complaining, and I'm not sorry. I've had my chance.
+I've seen war. I've fought for France. I'm satisfied."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>He lay back on the pillow, pale-faced, emaciated, weak; but in his
+eyes was a glow of patriotic pride in his own suffering, and pride in
+the knowledge that he had entered the fight and had fought bravely and
+well.</p>
+
+<p>"America ought to be proud of you," said Pen, "and of all the other
+boys from the States who have fought and suffered, and of those who
+have died in this war. I told you you'd be no coward when the time
+came to fight, and, my faith! you were not. I can see you now, with a
+smile and a wave of the hand plunging into that bloody chaos."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, comrade! I may never fight again, but I can go back home
+now and face the flag and not be ashamed."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, you can! And when will you go?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. They'll take me across the channel as soon as I'm able
+to leave here, and then, when I can travel comfortably I suppose I'll
+be invalided home."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, old man, when you get there, you say to my mother and my aunt
+Milly, and my dear old grandfather Butler, that when you saw me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> last
+I was well, and contented, and glad to be doing my bit."</p>
+
+<p>"I will, Pen."</p>
+
+<p>"And, Aleck?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, comrade."</p>
+
+<p>"If you should chance to go by the school-house, and see the old flag
+waving there, give it one loving glance for me, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"With all my heart!"</p>
+
+<p>"So, then, good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>It was in the spacious grounds of an old French ch&acirc;teau not far from
+Beauvais on the river Andelle that Pen's battalion camped for their
+period of rest and recuperation. There were long, sunshiny days,
+nights of undisturbed and refreshing sleep, recreation and
+entertainment sufficient to divert tired brains, and a freedom from
+undue restraint that was most welcome. Moreover there were letters and
+parcels from home, with plenty of time to read them and to re-read
+them, to dwell upon them and to enjoy them. If the loved ones back in
+the quiet cities and villages and countryside could only realize how
+much letters and parcels<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> from home mean to the tired bodies and
+strained nerves of the war-worn boys at the front, there would never
+be a lack of these comforts and enjoyments that go farther than
+anything else to brighten the lives and hearten the spirits of the
+soldier-heroes in the trenches and the camps.</p>
+
+<p>Pen had his full share of these pleasures. His mother, his Aunt
+Millicent, Colonel Butler, and even Grandpa Walker from Cobb's
+Corners, kept him supplied with news, admonition, encouragement and
+affection. And these little waves of love and commendation, rolling up
+to him at irregular intervals, were like sweet and fragrant draughts
+of life-giving air to one who for months had breathed only the smoke
+of battle and the foulness of the trenches.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of August, orders came for the battalion to return to the
+front. There were two days of bustling preparation, and then the
+troops entrained and were carried back to where the noise of the
+seventy-fives on the one side and the seventy-sevens on the other,
+came rumbling and thundering again to their ears,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> and the pall of
+smoke along the horizon marked the location of the firing line.</p>
+
+<p>But their destination this time was farther to the south, on the
+British right wing, where French and English soldiers touched elbows
+with each other, and Canadian and Australian fraternized in a common
+enterprise. Here again the old trench life was resumed; sentinel duty,
+daring adventures, wild charges, the shock and din of constant battle,
+brief periods of rest and recuperation. But the process of attrition
+was going on, the enemy was being pushed back, inch by inch it seemed,
+but always, eventually, back. As for Pen, he led a charmed life. Men
+fell to right of him and to left of him, and were torn into shreds at
+his back; but, save for superficial wounds, for temporary
+strangulation from gas, for momentary insensibility from shock, he was
+unharmed.</p>
+
+<p>It was in October, after Lieutenant Davis had been promoted to the
+captaincy, that Pen was made second lieutenant of his company. He well
+deserved the honor. There was a little celebration of the event among
+his men, for his comrades all loved him and honored him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> They said it
+would not be long before he would be wearing the Victoria Cross on his
+breast. Yet few of them had been with him from the beginning. Of those
+who had landed with him upon French soil the preceding May only a
+pitifully small percentage remained. Killed, wounded, missing, one by
+one and in groups, they had dropped out, and the depleted ranks had
+been filled with new blood.</p>
+
+<p>In November they were sent up into the Arras sector, but in December
+they were back again in their old quarters on the Somme. And yet it
+was not their old quarters, for the British front had been advanced
+over a wide area, for many miles in length, and imperturbable Tommies
+were now smoking their pipes in many a reversed trench that had
+theretofore been occupied by gray-clad Boches. But they were not
+pleasant trenches to occupy. They were very narrow and very muddy, and
+parts of the bodies of dead men protruded here and there from their
+walls and parapets. Moreover, in December it is very cold in northern
+France, and, muffle as they would, even the boys from Canada suffered
+from the severity of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> the weather. They asked only to be permitted to
+keep their blood warm by aggressive action against their enemy. And,
+just before the Christmas holidays, the aggressive action they had
+longed for came.</p>
+
+<p>It was no great battle, no important historic event, just an incident
+in the policy of attrition which was constantly wearing away the
+German lines. An attempt was to be made to drive a wedge into the
+enemy's front at a certain vital point, and, in order to cover the
+real thrust, several feints were to be made at other places not far
+away. One of these latter expeditions had been intrusted to a part of
+Pen's battalion. At six o'clock in the afternoon the British artillery
+was to bombard the first line of enemy trenches for an hour and a
+half. Then the artillery fire was to lift to the second line, and the
+Canadian troops were to rush the first line with the bayonet, carry
+it, and when the artillery fire lifted to the third line they were to
+pass on to the second hostile trench and take and hold that for a
+sufficient length of time to divert the enemy from the point of real
+attack, and then they were to withdraw to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> own lines. Permanent
+occupation of the captured trenches at the point seemed inadvisable at
+this time, if not wholly impossible.</p>
+
+<p>It was not a welcome task that had been assigned to these troops.
+Soldiers like to hold the ground they have won in any fight; and to
+retire after partial victory was not to their liking. But it was part
+of the game and they were content. So far as his section was concerned
+Pen assembled his men, explained the situation to them, and told them
+frankly what they were expected to do.</p>
+
+<p>"It's going to be a very pretty fight," he added, "probably the
+hardest tussle we've had yet. The Boches are well dug in over there,
+and they're well backed with artillery, and they're not going to give
+up those trenches without a protest. Some of us will not come back;
+and some of us who do come back will never fight again. You know that.
+But, whatever happens, Canada and the States will have no reason to
+blush for us. We're fighting in a splendid cause, and we'll do our
+part like the soldiers we are."</p>
+
+<p>"Aye! that we will!" "Right you are!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> "Give us the chance!" "Wherever
+you lead, we follow!"</p>
+
+<p>It seemed as though every man in the section gave voice to his
+willingness and enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" exclaimed Pen. "I knew you'd feel that way about it. I've
+never asked a man of you to go where I wouldn't go myself, and I never
+shall. I simply wanted to warn you that it's going to be a hot place
+over there to-night, and you must be prepared for it."</p>
+
+<p>"We're ready! All you've got to do is to say the word."</p>
+
+<p>No undue familiarity was intended; respect for their commander was in
+no degree lessened, but they loved him and would have followed him
+anywhere, and they wanted him to know it.</p>
+
+<p>The unusual activity in the Allied trenches, observed by enemy
+aircraft, combined with the terrific cannonading of their lines, had
+evidently convinced the enemy that some aggressive movement against
+them was in contemplation, for their artillery fire now, at seven
+o'clock, was directed squarely upon the outer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> lines of British
+trenches, bringing havoc and horror in the wake of the exploding
+shells.</p>
+
+<p>It was under this galling bombardment that the men of the second
+section adjusted their packs, buckled the last strap of their
+equipment, took firm bold of their rifles, and crouched against the
+front wall of their trench, ready for the final spring.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"><a name="Illustration_Face_Of_Death" id="Illustration_Face_Of_Death"></a>
+<img src="images/facedeath.jpg" width="391" height="500" alt="Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of His Brave Platoon" title="Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of His Brave Platoon" />
+<span class="caption">Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of His Brave Platoon</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>At seven-thirty o'clock the order came. It was a sharp blast of a
+whistle, made by the commanding officer. The next moment, led by
+Lieutenant Butler, the men were up, sliding over the parapet, worming
+their way through gaps in their own wire entanglements, and forming in
+the semblance of a line outside. It all took but a minute, and then
+the rush toward the enemy trenches began. It seemed as though every
+gun of every calibre in the German army was let loose upon them. The
+artillery shortened its range and dropped exploding shells among them
+with dreadful effect. Machine guns mowed them down in swaths.
+Hand-grenades tore gaps in their ranks. Rifle bullets, hissing like
+hail, took terrible toll of them. Out of the blackness overhead, lit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>
+with the flame of explosions, fell a constant rain of metal, of clods
+of earth, of fragments of equipment, of parts of human bodies. The
+experience was wild and terrible beyond description.</p>
+
+<p>Pen took no note of the whining and crashing missiles about him, nor
+of the men falling on both sides of him, nor of the shrieking,
+gesticulating human beings behind him. Into the face of death, his
+eyes fixed on the curtain of fire before him, heroic and inspired, he
+led the remnant of his brave platoon. Through the gaps torn out of the
+enemy entanglements by the preliminary bombardment, and on into the
+first line of Boche entrenchments they pounded and pushed their way.
+Then came fighting indeed; hand to hand, with fixed bayonets and
+clubbed muskets and death grapples in the darkness, and everywhere,
+smearing and soaking the combatants, the blood of men. But the first
+trench, already battered into a shapeless and shallow ravine, was won.
+Canada was triumphant. The curtain of artillery fire lifted and fell
+on the enemy's third line. So, now, forward again, leaving the
+"trench<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> cleaners" to hunt out those of the enemy who had taken
+refuge in holes and caves. Again the rain of hurtling and hissing and
+crashing steel. Human fortitude and endurance were indeed no match for
+this. Again the clubs and bayonets and wild men reaching with
+blood-smeared hands for each other's throats in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>And then, to Penfield Butler, at last, came the soldier's destiny. It
+seemed as though some mighty force had struck him in the breast,
+whirled him round and round, toppled him to earth, and left him lying
+there, crushed, bleeding and unconscious. How long it was that he lay
+oblivious of the conflict he did not know. But when he awakened to
+sensibility the rush of battle had ceased. There was no fighting
+around him. He had a sense of great suffocation. He knew that he was
+spitting blood. He tried to raise his hand, and his revolver fell from
+the nerveless fingers that were still grasping it. A little later he
+raised his other hand to his breast and felt that his clothing was
+torn and soaked. He lifted his head, and in the light of an enemy
+flare he looked about him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> He saw only the torn soil covered with
+crouched and sprawling bodies of the wounded and the dead, and with
+wreckage indescribable. Bullets were humming and whistling overhead,
+and spattering the ground around him. Men in the agony of their wounds
+were moaning and crying near by. He lay back and tried to think. By
+the light of the next flare he saw the rough edge of a great
+shell-hole a little way beyond him toward the British lines. In the
+darkness he tried to crawl toward it. It would be safer there than in
+this whistling cross-fire of bullets. He did not dare try to rise. He
+could not turn himself on his stomach, the pain and sense of
+suffocation were too great when he attempted it. So he pulled himself
+along in the darkness on his back to the cavity, and sought shelter
+within it. Bodies of others who had attempted to run or creep to it,
+and had been caught by Boche bullets on the way, were hanging over its
+edge. Under its protecting shoulder were many wounded, treating their
+own injuries, helping others as they could in the darkness and by the
+fitful light of the German flares. Some one, whose friendly voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> was
+half familiar, yet sounded strange and far away, dragged the exhausted
+boy still farther into shelter, felt of his blood-soaked chest, and
+endeavored, awkwardly and crudely, for he himself was wounded, to give
+first aid. And then again came unconsciousness.</p>
+
+<p>So, in the black night, in the shell-made cavern with the pall of
+flame-streaked battle smoke hanging over it, and the whining,
+screaming missiles from guns of friend and foe weaving a curtain of
+tangled threads above it, this young soldier of the American Legion,
+his breast shot half in two, his rich blood reddening the soil of
+France, lay steeped in merciful oblivion.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Colonel Butler declared his intention of going to New York and
+Washington to consult with his friends about the great war, to urge
+active participation in it by the United States, and to offer to the
+proper authorities, his services as a military expert and commander,
+his daughter protested vigorously. It was absurd, she declared, for
+him, at his age, to think of doing anything of the kind; utterly
+preposterous and absurd. But he would not listen to her. His mind was
+made up, and she was entirely unable to divert him from his purpose.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I shall go with you," she declared.</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask," he inquired, "what your object is in wishing to accompany
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because you're not fit to go alone. You're too old and feeble, and
+something might happen to you."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>He turned on her a look of infinite scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"Age," he replied, "is no barrier to patriotism. A man's obligation to
+serve his country is not measured by his years. I have never been more
+capable of taking the field against an enemy of civilization than I am
+at this moment. To suggest that I am not fit to travel unless
+accompanied by a female member of my family falls little short of
+being gross disrespect. I shall go alone."</p>
+
+<p>Again she protested, but she was utterly unable to swerve him a hair's
+breadth from his determination and purpose. So she was obliged to see
+him start off by himself on his useless and Quixotic errand. She knew
+that he would return disappointed, saddened, doubly depressed, and ill
+both in body and mind.</p>
+
+<p>Since Pen's abrupt departure to seek a home with his Grandpa Walker,
+Colonel Butler had not been so obedient to his daughter's wishes. He
+had changed in many respects. He had grown old, white-haired, feeble
+and despondent. He was often ill at ease, and sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> morose. That
+he grieved over the boy's absence there was not a shadow of doubt. Yet
+he would not permit the first suggestion of a reconciliation that did
+not involve the humble application of his grandson to be forgiven and
+taken back. But such an application was not made. The winter days went
+by, spring blossomed into summer, season followed season, and not yet
+had the master of Bannerhall seen coming down the long, gray road to
+the old home the figure of a sorrowful and suppliant boy.</p>
+
+<p>When the world war began, his mind was diverted to some extent from
+his sorrow. From the beginning his sympathies had been with the
+Allies. Old soldier that he was he could not denounce with sufficient
+bitterness the spirit of militarism that seemed to have run rampant
+among the Central Powers. At the invasion of Belgium and at the
+mistreatment of her people, especially of her women and children, at
+the bombardment of the cathedral of Rheims, at the sinking of the
+<em>Lusitania</em>, at the execution of Edith Cavell, at all the outrages of
+which German militarism was guilty,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> he grew more and more indignant
+and denunciatory. His sense of fairness, his spirit of chivalry, his
+ideas of honorable warfare and soldierly conduct were inexpressibly
+shocked. The murder of sleeping women and children in country villages
+by the dropping of bombs from airships, the suffocation of brave
+soldiers by the use of deadly gases, the hurling of liquid fire into
+the ranks of a civilized enemy; these things stirred him to the
+depths. He talked of the war by day, he dreamed of it at night. He
+chafed bitterly at the apparent attempt of the Government at
+Washington to preserve the neutrality of this country against the most
+provoking wrongs. It was our war, he declared, as much as it was the
+war of any nation in Europe, and it was our duty to get into it for
+the sake of humanity, at the earliest possible moment and at any cost.
+His intense feeling and profound conviction in the matter led finally
+to his determination to make the trip to New York and Washington in
+order to present his views and make his recommendations, and to offer
+his services in person, in quarters where he believed they would be
+welcomed and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> acted on. So he went on what appeared to his daughter to
+be the most preposterous errand he had ever undertaken.</p>
+
+<p>He returned even sooner than she had expected him to come. In response
+to his telegram she sent the carriage to the station to meet him on
+the arrival of the afternoon train. When she heard the rumbling of the
+wheels outside she went to the door, knowing that it would require her
+best effort to cheerfully welcome the disappointed, dejected and
+enfeebled old man. Then she had the surprise of her life. Colonel
+Butler alighted from the carriage and mounted the porch steps with the
+elasticity of youth. He was travel-stained and weary, indeed; but his
+face, from which half the wrinkles seemed to have disappeared, was
+beaming with happiness. He kissed his daughter, and, with
+old-fashioned courtesy, conducted her to a porch chair. In her mind
+there could be but one explanation for his extraordinary appearance
+and conduct; the purpose of his journey had been accomplished and his
+last absurd wish had been gratified.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," she said, with a sigh, "they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> have agreed to adopt your
+plans, and take you back into the army."</p>
+
+<p>"Into the what, my dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Into the army. Didn't you go to Washington for the purpose of getting
+back into service?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes. I believe I did. Pardon me, but, in view of matters of much
+greater importance, the result of this particular effort had slipped
+my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Matters of greater importance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I was about to inform you that while I was in New York I
+unexpectedly ran across my grandson, Master Penfield Butler."</p>
+
+<p>She sat up with a look of surprise and apprehension in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ran across Pen? What was he doing there?"</p>
+
+<p>"He was on his way to Canada to join those forces of the Dominion
+Government which will eventually sail for France, and help to free
+that unhappy country from the heel of the barbarian."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean that Penfield was to enlist, has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> doubtless now already
+enlisted, with the Canadian troops which, after a period of drilling
+at home, will enter the war on the firing line in northern France."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, for goodness sake!" It was all that Aunt Millicent could say,
+and when she had said that she practically collapsed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he rejoined, "he felt as did I, that the time had come for
+American citizens, both old and young, with red blood in their veins,
+to spill that blood, if necessary, in fighting for the liberty of the
+world. Patriotism, duty, the spirit of his ancestors, called him, and
+he has gone."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler was radiant. His eyes were aglow with enthusiasm. His
+own recommendations for national conduct had gone unheeded indeed, and
+his own offer of military service had been civilly declined; but these
+facts were of small moment compared with the proud knowledge that a
+young scion of his race was about to carry the family traditions and
+prestige into the battle front of the greatest war for liberty that
+the world had ever known.</p>
+
+<p>In Pen's second letter home from Canada he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> told of the arrival and
+enlistment of Aleck Sands, and of the complete blotting out of the old
+feud that had existed between them. Later on he wrote them, in many
+letters, all about his barrack life, and of how contented and happy he
+was, and how eagerly he was looking forward to the day when he and his
+comrades should cross the water to those countries where the great war
+was a reality. The letter that he wrote the day before he sailed was
+filled with the brightness of enthusiasm and the joy of anticipation.
+And while the long period of drill on English soil became somewhat
+irksome to him, as one reading between the lines could readily
+discover, he made no direct complaint. It was simply a part of the
+game. But it was when he had reached the front, and his letters
+breathed the sternness of the conflict and echoed the thunder of the
+guns, that he was at his best in writing. Mere salutations some of
+them were, written from the trenches by the light of a dug-out candle,
+but they pulsated with patriotism and heroism and a determination to
+live up to the best traditions of a soldier's career.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>Colonel Butler devoured every scrap of news that came from the front
+in the half dozen papers that he read daily. He kept in close touch
+with the international situation, he fumed constantly at the
+inactivity of his own government in view of her state of
+unpreparedness for a war into which she must sooner or later be
+inevitably plunged. He lost all patience with what he considered the
+timidity of the President, and what he called the stupidity of
+congress. Was not the youngest and the reddest and the best of the
+Butler blood at the fighting line, ready at any moment to be spilled
+to the death on the altar of the world's liberty? Why then should the
+government of the United States sit supinely by and see the finest
+young manhood of her own and other lands fighting and perishing in the
+cause of humanity when, by voicing the conscience of her people, and
+declaring and making war on the Central Powers, she could most
+effectually aid in bringing to a speedy and victorious end this
+monstrous example of modern barbarism? Why, indeed!</p>
+
+<p>One day Colonel Butler suggested to his daughter that she go up to
+Lowbridge and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> again inquire whether Pen's mother had any needs of any
+kind that he could possibly supply.</p>
+
+<p>"And," he added, "I wish you to invite her to Bannerhall for a visit
+of indefinite duration. In these trying and critical times my
+daughter-in-law's place is in the ancestral home of her deceased
+husband."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Millicent, delighted with the purport of her mission, went up to
+Lowbridge and extended the invitation, and, with all the eloquence at
+her command, urged its acceptance. But Sarah Butler was unyielding and
+would not come. She had been wounded too deeply in years gone by.</p>
+
+<p>So spring came, and blade, leaf and flower sprang into beautiful and
+rejoicing existence. No one had ever before seen the orchard trees so
+superbly laden with blossoms. No one had ever before seen a brighter
+promise of a more bountiful season. And the country was still at
+peace, enriching herself with a mintage coined of blood and sorrow
+abroad, though drifting aimlessly and ever closer to the verge of
+war.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>There was a time early in July when, for two weeks, no letter came
+from Pen. The suspense was almost unbearable. For days Colonel Butler
+haunted the post-office. His self-assurance left him, his confident
+and convincing voice grew weak, a haunting fear of what news might
+come was with him night and day.</p>
+
+<p>At last he received a letter from abroad. It was from Pen, addressed
+in his own hand-writing. The colonel himself took it from his box at
+the post-office in the presence of a crowd of his neighbors and
+friends awaiting the distribution of their mail. It was scrawled in
+pencil on paper that had never been intended to be used for
+correspondence purposes.</p>
+
+<p>Pen had just learned, he wrote, that the messenger who carried a
+former letter from the trenches for him had been killed en route by an
+exploding shell, and the contents of his mail pouch scattered and
+destroyed. Moreover he had been very busy. Fighting had been brisk,
+there had been a good many casualties in his company, but he himself,
+save for some superficial wounds received on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> Fourth of July, was
+unhurt and reasonably well.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"I am sorry to report, however," the letter continued, "that my
+comrade, Aleck Sands, has been severely wounded. We were engaged
+in a brisk assault on the enemy's lines on the Fourth of July, and
+captured some of their trenches. During the engagement Aleck
+received a bayonet wound in the shoulder, and a badly battered
+knee. I was able to help him off the field and to an ambulance. I
+believe he is somewhere now in a hospital not far to the rear of
+us. I mean to see him soon if I can find out where he is and get
+leave. Tell his folks that he fought like a hero. I never saw a
+braver man in battle.</p>
+
+<p>"You will be glad to learn that since the engagement on the fourth
+I have been made a sergeant, 'for conspicuous bravery in action,'
+the order read.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose the flag is flying on the school-house staff these
+days. How I would like to see it. If I could only see the Stars
+and Stripes over here, and our own troops under it, I should be
+perfectly happy. The longer I fight here the more I'm convinced
+that the cause we're fighting for is a just and glorious one, and
+the more willing I am to die for it.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>"Give my dear love to Aunt Milly. I have just written to mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class="letter_indent_13">"Your affectionate grandson,</span><br />
+<span class="letter_indent_20">"<span class="personname">Penfield Butler</span>."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Colonel Butler looked up from the reading with moist eyes and glowing
+face, to find a dozen of his townsmen who knew that the letter had
+come, waiting to hear news from Pen.</p>
+
+<p>"On Independence Day," said the colonel, in answer to their inquiries,
+"he participated in a gallant and bloody assault on the enemy's lines,
+in which many trenches were taken. Save for superficial wounds, easily
+healed in the young and vigorous, he came out of the mel&eacute;e unscathed."</p>
+
+<p>"Good for him!" exclaimed one.</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo!" shouted another.</p>
+
+<p>"And, gentlemen," the colonel's voice rose and swelled moderately as
+he proceeded, "I am proud to say that, following that engagement, my
+grandson, for conspicuous bravery in action, was promoted to the rank
+of sergeant in the colonial troops of Great Britain."</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>"He's the boy!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>"We're proud of him!"</p>
+
+<p>The colonel's eyes were flashing now; his head was erect, his one hand
+was thrust into the bosom of his waistcoat.</p>
+
+<p>"I thank you, gentlemen!" he said, "on behalf of my grandson. To pass
+inherited patriotism from father to son, from generation to
+generation, and to see it find its perfect fulfillment in the latest
+scion of the race, is to live in the golden age, gentlemen, and to
+partake of the fountain of youth."</p>
+
+<p>His voice quavered a little at the end, and he waited for a moment to
+recover it, and possibly to give his eloquence an opportunity to sink
+in more deeply, and then he continued:</p>
+
+<p>"I regret to say, gentlemen, that in the fierce engagement of the
+fourth instant, my grandson's gallant comrade, Master Alexander Sands,
+was severely wounded both in the shoulder and the knee, and is now
+somewhere in a hospital in northern France, well back of the lines,
+recuperating from his injuries. I shall communicate this information
+at once to his parents, together with such encouragement as is
+contained in my grandson's letter."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>Proud as a king, he turned from the sympathetic group, entered his
+carriage and was driven toward Chestnut Valley.</p>
+
+<p>It was late in September when Aleck Sands came home. The family at
+Bannerhall, augmented within the last year by the addition of Colonel
+Butler's favorite niece, was seated at the supper table one evening
+when Elmer Cuddeback, now grown into a fine, stalwart youth, hurried
+in to announce the arrival.</p>
+
+<p>"I happened to be at the station when Aleck came," he said. "He looked
+like a skeleton and a ghost rolled into one. He couldn't walk at all,
+and he was just able to talk. But he said he'd been having a fine time
+and was feeling bully. Isn't that nerve for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid!" exclaimed the colonel, holding his napkin high in the air
+in his excitement. "A marvelous young man! I shall do myself the honor
+to call on him in person to-morrow morning, and compliment him on his
+bravery, and congratulate him on his escape from mortal injury."</p>
+
+<p>He was as good as his word. He and his daughter both went down to
+Cherry Valley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> and called on Aleck Sands. He was lying propped up in
+bed, attended by a thankful and devoted mother, trying to give rest to
+a tired and irritated body, and to enjoy once more the sights and
+sounds of home. He was too weak to do much talking, but almost his
+first words were an anxious inquiry about Pen. They told him what they
+knew.</p>
+
+<p>"He came to see me at the hospital in August," said Aleck. "It was
+like a breeze from heaven. If he doesn't come back here alive and well
+at the end of this war, with the Victoria Cross on his breast, I shall
+be ashamed to go out on the street; he is so much the braver soldier
+and the better man of the two of us."</p>
+
+<p>"He has written to us," said the colonel, and his eyes were moist, and
+his voice choked a little as he spoke, "that you, yourself, in the
+matter of courage in battle, upheld the best traditions of American
+bravery, and I am proud of you, sir, as are all of your townsmen."</p>
+
+<p>The colonel would have remained to listen to further commendation of
+his grandson, and to discuss with one who had actually been on the
+fighting line, the conditions under which the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> war was being waged;
+but his daughter, seeing that the boy needed rest, brought the visit
+to a speedy close.</p>
+
+<p>"Give my love to Pen when you write to him," said Aleck, as he bade
+them good-by; "the bravest soldier&mdash;and the dearest comrade&mdash;that ever
+carried a gun."</p>
+
+<p>After the winter holidays a week went by with no letter from Pen. The
+colonel began to grow anxious, but it was not until the end of the
+second week that he really became alarmed. And when three weeks had
+gone by, and neither the mails nor the cable nor the wireless had
+brought any news of the absent soldier, Colonel Butler was on the
+verge of despair. He had haunted the post-office as before, he had
+made inquiry at the state department at Washington, he had telegraphed
+to Canada for information, but nothing came of it all. Aleck Sands had
+heard absolutely nothing. Pen's mother, almost beside herself,
+telephoned every day to Bannerhall for news, and received none. The
+strain of apprehensive waiting became almost unbearable for them all.</p>
+
+<p>One day, unable longer to withstand the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> heart-breaking tension, the
+old patriot sent an agent post-haste to Toronto, with instructions to
+spare no effort and no expense in finding out what had become of his
+grandson.</p>
+
+<p>Three days later, from his agent came a telegram reading as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Lieutenant Butler in hospital near Rouen. Wound severe. Suffering
+now from pneumonia. Condition serious but still hopeful. Details
+by letter." </p></div>
+
+<p>This telegram was received at Bannerhall in the morning. In the early
+afternoon of the same day Pen's mother received a letter written three
+weeks earlier by his nurse at the hospital. She was an American girl
+who had been long in France, and who, from the beginning of the war,
+had given herself whole-heartedly to the work at the hospitals.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Do not be unduly alarmed," she wrote, "he is severely wounded;
+evidently a hand-grenade exploded against his breast; but if we
+are able to ward off pneumonia he will recover. He has given me
+your name and address, and wished me to write. I think an early
+and cheerful letter from you would be a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> great comfort to him, and
+I hope he will be able to appreciate some gifts and dainties from
+home by the time they could reach here. Let me add that he is a
+model patient, quiet and uncomplaining, and I am told that he was
+among the bravest of all the brave Americans fighting with the
+Canadian forces on the Somme." </p></div>
+
+<p>Between Bannerhall and Sarah Butler's home at Lowbridge the telephone
+lines were busy that day. It was a relief to all of them to know that
+Pen was living and being cared for; it was a source of apprehension
+and grief to them that his condition, as intimated in the telegram,
+was still so critical.</p>
+
+<p>As for Colonel Butler he was in a fever of excitement and distress.
+Late in the afternoon he went to his room and, with his one hand,
+began, hastily and confusedly, to pack a small steamer trunk. His
+daughter found him so occupied.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the world are you doing?" she asked him.</p>
+
+<p>"I am preparing to go to Rouen," he replied, "to see that my grandson
+is cared for in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> his illness in a manner due to one who has placed his
+life in jeopardy for France."</p>
+
+<p>"Father, stand up! Look at me! Listen to me!" The very essence of
+determination was in her voice and manner, and he obeyed her. "You are
+not to stir one step from this town. Sarah Butler and I are going to
+France to be with Pen; we have talked it over and decided on it; and
+you are going to stay right here at Bannerhall, where you can be of
+supreme service to us, instead of burdening us with your company."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her steadily for a moment, but he saw only rigid
+resolution and determination in her eyes; he was too unstrung and
+broken to protest, or to insist on his right as head of the house, and
+so&mdash;he yielded. Later in the day, however, a compromise was effected.
+It was agreed that he should accompany his daughter and his
+daughter-in-law to New York, aid them in securing passage, passports
+and credentials, and see them safely aboard ship for their perilous
+journey, after which he was to return home and spend the time quietly
+with his niece Eleanor, and make necessary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> preparations for the
+return of the invalid, later on, to Bannerhall.</p>
+
+<p>He carried out his part of the New York program in good faith, and had
+the satisfaction, three days later, of bidding the two women good-by
+on the deck of a French liner bound for Havre. He had no apprehension
+concerning the fitness of his daughter to go abroad unaccompanied save
+by her sister-in-law. She had been with him on three separate trips to
+the continent, and, in his judgment, for a woman, she had displayed
+marked traveling ability. His only fear was of German submarines.</p>
+
+<p>"A most cowardly, dastardly, uncivilized way," he declared, "of waging
+war upon an enemy's women and children."</p>
+
+<p>He was in good spirits as the vessel sailed. His parting words to his
+daughter were:</p>
+
+<p>"If you should have occasion to discuss with our friends in France the
+attitude of this nation toward the war, you may say that it is my
+opinion that the conscience of the country is now awake, and that
+before long we shall be shoulder to shoulder with them in the
+destruction of barbarism."</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h3>
+
+
+<p>For twenty-five years there has stood, in one of the faubourgs of
+Rouen, not far from the right bank of the Seine, a long two-story
+brick building, with a wing reaching back to the base of the hill. Up
+to the year 1915 it was used as a factory for the making of silk
+ribbons. Rouen had been a center of the cotton manufacturing industry
+from time immemorial. Why therefore should not the making of silk be
+added? It was added, and the enterprise grew and became prosperous.
+Then came the war, vast, terrible, bringing in its train suffering,
+poverty, a drastic curtailment of all the luxuries of life. Silk
+ribbons are a luxury; they go with soft living. So, then; <em>voil&agrave;
+tout!</em> Before the end of the first year of the conflict the factory
+was transformed into a hospital. The clatter of looms and the chatter
+of girls gave place to the moanings of sick and wounded men, and the
+gentle voices of white<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> and blue clad nurses. It was no longer bales
+of raw silk that were carted up to the big doors of the factory, and
+boxes of rolled ribbon that were trundled down the drive to the
+street, to the warehouses, and thence to the admiring eyes of
+beauty-loving women. The human freight that was brought to the big
+doors in these days consisted of the pierced and mutilated bodies of
+men; soldiers for whom the final taps would soon sound. If they
+chanced to be of the British troops, and held fast to the spark of
+life within them, then they were close enough to the seaport to be
+taken across the channel for final convalescence under English skies.</p>
+
+<p>It was to this hospital that Lieutenant Penfield Butler was brought
+from the battlefield of the Somme. His battalion had done the work
+assigned to it in the fight, had done it well, and had withdrawn to
+its trenches, leaving a third of its men dead or wounded between the
+lines. Later on, under cover of a galling artillery fire, rescue
+parties had gone out to bring in the wounded. They had found Pen in
+the shelter of the shell-hole, still unconscious. They had brought him
+back across the fire-swept field,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> and down through the winding,
+narrow trenches, to the first-aid station, from which, after a hurried
+examination and superficial treatment of his wounds, he was taken in a
+guard-car to a field hospital in the rear of the lines. But space in
+these field hospitals is too precious to permit of wounded men who can
+be moved without fatal results, remaining in them for long periods.
+The stream of newcomers is too constant and too pressing. So, after
+five days, Pen was sent, by way of Amiens, to the hospital in the
+suburbs of Rouen. He, himself, knew little of where he was or of what
+was being done for him. A bullet had grazed his right arm, and a
+clubbed musket or revolver had laid his scalp open to the bone. But
+these were slight injuries in comparison with the awful wound in his
+breast. Torn flesh, shattered bones, pierced lungs, these things left
+life hanging by the slenderest thread. When the <em>m&eacute;decin-chef</em> of the
+hospital near Rouen took his first look at the boy after his arrival,
+he had him put under the influence of an anaesthetic in order that he
+could the more readily and effectively examine, probe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> and dress the
+wound, and remove any irritating splinters of bone that might be the
+cause of the continuous leakage from the lungs. But when he had
+finished his delicate and strenuous task he turned to the nurse at his
+side and gave a hopeless shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"<em>Fichu!</em>" he said; "<em>le laisser tranquille</em>."</p>
+
+<p>"But I am not going to let him die," she replied; "he is too young,
+too handsome, too brave, and <em>he is an American</em>."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled, shook his head again and passed on to the next case. The
+girl was an American too, and these American nurses were always so
+optimistic, so faithfully persistent, she might pull him through,
+but&mdash;the smile of incredulity still lay on the lips of the
+<em>m&eacute;decin-chef</em>.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the young soldier was better. The leakage had not yet
+wholly ceased; but the wound was apparently beginning to heal. He was
+still dazed, and his pain was still too severe to be endured without
+opiates. It was five days later that he came fully to his senses, was
+able to articulate, and to frame intelligent sentences. He indicated
+to his nurse, Miss By<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>ron, that he wished to have his mother written
+to.</p>
+
+<p>"No especial message," he whispered, "just that I am here&mdash;have been
+wounded&mdash;recovering."</p>
+
+<p>But the nurse had already learned from other men of Pen's company,
+less seriously wounded than he, who were at the same hospital,
+something about the boy's desperate bravery, and how his stern
+fighting qualities were combined with great tenderness of heart and a
+most loving disposition, and she could not avoid putting an echo of it
+in her letter to his mother.</p>
+
+<p>Later on Pen developed symptoms of pneumonia, a disease that follows
+so often on an injury to the structure of the lungs.</p>
+
+<p>When the <em>m&eacute;decin-chef</em> came and noted the increase in temperature and
+the decrease in vitality, he looked grave. Every day, with true French
+courtesy, he had congratulated Miss Byron on her remarkable success in
+nursing the young American back to life. But now, perhaps, after all,
+the efforts of both of them would be wasted. Pneumonia is a hard foe
+to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> fight when it attacks wounded lungs. So an English physician was
+called in and joined with the French surgeon and the American nurse to
+combat the dreaded enemy. It seemed, somehow, as if each of them felt
+that the honor of his or her country was at stake in this battle with
+disease and death across that hospital bed in the old factory near
+Rouen.</p>
+
+<p>It was late in February when Pen's mother and his Aunt Millicent
+reached Havre, and took the next available train up to Rouen. They had
+not heard from Pen since sailing, and they were almost beside
+themselves with anxiety and apprehension. But the telephone service
+between the city and its faubourgs is excellent, Aunt Millicent could
+speak French with comparative fluency, and it was not many minutes
+after their arrival before they had obtained connection with the
+hospital and were talking with Miss Byron.</p>
+
+<p>"He is very ill," she said, "but we feel that the crisis of his
+disease has passed, and we hope for his recovery."</p>
+
+<p>So, then, he was still living, and there was hope. In the early
+twilight of the winter even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>ing the two women rode out to the suburban
+town and went up to the hospital to see him. He did not open his eyes,
+nor recognize them in any way, he did not even know that they were
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>"There have been many complications of the illness from his wound,"
+said the nurse; "double pneumonia, typhoid symptoms, and what not; we
+dared not hope for him for a while, but we feel now that perhaps the
+worst is over. He has made a splendid fight for his life," she added;
+"he deserves to win. And he is the favorite of the hospital. Every one
+loves him. The first question all my patients ask me when I make my
+first round for the day is 'How is the young American lieutenant this
+morning?' Oh, if good wishes and genuine affection can keep him with
+us, he will stay."</p>
+
+<p>So, with tear-wet faces, grateful yet still anxious, the two women
+left him for the night and sought hospitality at a modest <em>pension</em> in
+the neighborhood of the hospital.</p>
+
+<p>But a precious life still hung in the balance. As he had lain for many
+days, so the young soldier continued to lie, for many days to come,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>
+apparently without thought or vitality, save that those who watched
+him could catch now and then a low murmur from his lips, and could see
+the faint rise and fall of his scarred and bandaged breast.</p>
+
+<p>Then, so slowly that it seemed to those who looked lovingly on that
+ages were going by, he began definitely to mend. He could open his
+eyes, and move his head and hands, and he seemed to grasp, by degrees,
+the fact that his mother and his Aunt Millicent were often sitting at
+his bedside. But when he tried to speak his tongue would not obey his
+will.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when he awakened from a refreshing sleep, he seemed brighter
+and stronger than he had been at any time before. The two women whom
+he most loved were sitting on opposite sides of his cot, and his
+devoted and delighted nurse stood near by, smiling down on him. He
+smiled back up at each of them in turn, but he made no attempt to
+speak. He seemed to know that he had not yet the power of
+articulation.</p>
+
+<p>His cot, in an alcove at the end of the main aisle, was so placed
+that, when the curtains<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> were drawn aside, he could, at will, look
+down the long rows of beds where once the looms had clattered, and
+watch wan faces, and recumbent forms under the white spreads, and
+nurses, some garbed in white, and some in blue, and some in more sober
+colors, moving gently about among the sufferers in performance of
+their thrice-blest and most angelic tasks. It was there that he was
+looking now, and the two women at his bedside who were watching him,
+saw that his eyes were fixed, with strange intensity, on some object
+in the distance. They turned to see what it was. To their utter
+astonishment and dismay they discovered, marching up the aisle,
+accompanied by an <em>infirmi&egrave;re</em>, Colonel Richard Butler. Whence, when,
+and how he had come, they knew not. He stopped at the entrance to the
+alcove, and held up his hand as though demanding silence. And there
+was silence. No one spoke or stirred. He looked down at Pen who lay,
+still speechless, staring up at him in surprise and delight.</p>
+
+<p>Into the colonel's glowing face there came a look of tenderness, of
+rapt sympathy, of exult<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>ant pride, that those who saw it will never
+forget.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped lightly forward and took Pen's limp hand in his and pressed
+it gently.</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you, my boy!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>No one had ever heard Richard Butler say "God bless you" before, and
+no one ever heard him say it again. But when he said it that day to
+the dark-haired, white faced, war-worn soldier on the cot in the
+hospital near Rouen, the words came straight from a big, and brave,
+and tender heart.</p>
+
+<p>He laid Pen's hand slowly back on the counterpane, and then he parted
+his white moustache, as he had done that night at the hotel in New
+York, and bent over and kissed the boy's forehead. It may have been
+the rapture of the kiss that did it; God knows; but at that moment
+Pen's tongue was loosened, his lips parted, and he cried out:</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather!"</p>
+
+<p>With a judgment and a self-denial rare among men, the colonel answered
+the boy's greeting with another gentle hand-clasp, and a beneficent
+smile, and turned and marched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> proudly and gratefully back down the
+long aisle, stopping here and there to greet some sick soldier who had
+given him a friendly look or smile, until he stood in the open doorway
+and lifted up his eyes to gaze on the blue line of distant hills
+across the Seine.</p>
+
+<p>Later, when the two women came to him, and he went with them to the
+<em>pension</em> where they were staying, he explained to them the cause of
+his sudden and unheralded appearance. He had received their cablegrams
+indeed; but these, instead of serving to allay his anxiety, had made
+it only the more acute. To wait now for letters was impossible. His
+patience was utterly exhausted. He could no more have remained quietly
+at home than he could have shut up his eyes and ears and mouth and
+lain quietly down to die. The call that came to him from the bed of
+his beloved grandson in France, that sounded in his ears day-time and
+night-time as he paced the floors of Bannerhall, was too insistent and
+imperious to be resisted. Against the vigorous protests of his niece,
+and the timid remonstrances of the few friends who were made aware of
+his pur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>pose, he put himself in readiness to sail on the next
+out-going steamer that would carry him to his longed-for destination.
+And it was only after he had boarded the vessel, and had felt the slow
+movement of the ship as she was warped out into the stream, that he
+became contented, comfortable, thoroughly at ease in body and mind,
+and ready to await patiently whatever might come to him at the end of
+his journey.</p>
+
+<p>So it was in good health and spirits that he landed at Havre, came up
+to Rouen, and made his way to the hospital.</p>
+
+<p>And for once in her life his daughter did not chide him. Instinctively
+she felt the power of the great tenderness and yearning in his breast
+that had impelled him to come, and, so far as any word of disapproval
+was concerned, she was silent.</p>
+
+<p>He talked much about Pen. He asked what they had learned concerning
+his bravery in battle, the manner in which he had received his wounds,
+the nature of his long illness, and the probability of his continued
+convalescence.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope," said Pen's mother, "that I shall be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> able to take him back
+to Lowbridge next month."</p>
+
+<p>The old man looked up in surprise and alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"To Lowbridge?" he said, and added: "Not to Lowbridge, Sarah Butler.
+My grandson will return to Bannerhall, the home of his ancestors."</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel Butler, my son's home is with me."</p>
+
+<p>"And your home," replied the colonel, "is with me. My son's widow must
+no longer live under any other roof than mine. The day of estrangement
+has fully passed. You will find welcome and affection, and, I hope, an
+abundance of happiness at Bannerhall."</p>
+
+<p>She did not answer him; she could not. Nor did he demand an answer. He
+seemed to take it for granted that his wish in the matter would be
+complied with, and his will obeyed. But it was not until his daughter
+Millicent, by much argument and persuasion, through many days, had
+convinced her that her place was with them, that her son's welfare and
+his grandfather's length of days depended on both mother and son
+complying with Colonel But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>ler's wish and demand, that she consented
+to blot out the past and to go to live at Bannerhall.</p>
+
+<p>It was on the second day of April, 1917, that the President of the
+United States read his world famous message to Congress, asking that
+body to "declare the recent course of the Imperial German Government
+to be in fact nothing less than war against the Government and people
+of the United States" and to "employ all of its resources to bring the
+Government of Germany to terms and to end the war."</p>
+
+<p>And it was on the third day of April that Colonel Richard Butler,
+walking up the long aisle of the war hospital near Rouen in the late
+afternoon, smiled and nodded to right and left and said:</p>
+
+<p>"At last we are with you; we are with you. America has answered the
+call of her conscience, she will now come into her own."</p>
+
+<p>And they smiled back at him, did these worn and broken men, for the
+news of the President's declaration had already filtered through the
+wards; and they waved their hands to the brave American colonel with
+the white mous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>tache, stern visage, and tender heart, and in sturdy
+English and voluble French and musical Italian, they congratulated him
+and his noble grandson, and the charming ladies of his family, on the
+splendid words of his President, to which words the patriotic Congress
+would surely respond.</p>
+
+<p>And Congress did respond. The Senate on April 4, and the House on
+April 6, by overwhelming majorities, passed a resolution in full
+accordance with the President's recommendation, declaring that a state
+of war had been thrust upon the United States by the German
+government, and authorizing and directing the President "to employ the
+entire naval and military forces of the United States, and the
+resources of the government, to carry on war against the Imperial
+German government."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Richard Butler was at last content.</p>
+
+<p>"I am proud of my country," he declared, "and of my President and
+Congress. I have cabled the congressman from my district to tender my
+congratulations to Mr. Wilson, and to offer my services anew in
+whatever capacity my government can use them."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>If he had favored the Allied cause before going abroad he was now
+thrice the partisan that he had been. For he had seen France. He had
+seen her, bled white in her heroic endeavor to drive the invader from
+her soil. He had seen her ruined homes, and cities, and temples of
+art. He had seen her women and her aged fathers and her young children
+doing the work of her able-bodied men who were on the fighting line,
+replacing those hundreds of thousands who were lying in heroes'
+graves. He had been, by special favor, taken to the front, where he
+had seen the still grimmer visage of war, had caught a glimpse of life
+in the trenches, of death on the field, and had heard the sweep and
+the rattle and the roar of unceasing conflict. And in his eyes and
+voice as he walked up and down the aisles of the hospital near Rouen,
+or sat at the bedside of his grandson, was always a reflection of
+these things that he himself had seen and heard.</p>
+
+<p>And he was a favorite in the wards. Not alone because he so often came
+with his one arm laden with little material things to cheer and
+comfort them, but because these men with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> pierced and broken and
+mutilated bodies admired and liked him. Whenever they saw the familiar
+figure, tall, soldierly, the sternly benevolent countenance with its
+white moustache and kindling eyes, enter at the hospital doors and
+walk up between the long rows of cots, their faces would light up with
+pleasure and admiration, and the friendliness of their greetings would
+be hearty and unalloyed.</p>
+
+<p>Somehow they seemed to look upon him as the symbol and representative
+of his country, the very embodiment of the spirit of his own United
+States. And now that his government had definitely entered into the
+war, he was in their eyes, thrice the hero and the benefactor that he
+had been before.</p>
+
+<p>When he entered the hospital the morning after news of America's war
+declaration had been received, and turned to march up the aisle toward
+his grandson's alcove, he was surprised and delighted to see from
+every cot in the ward, and from every nurse on the floor, a hand
+thrust up holding a tiny American flag. It was the hospital's greeting
+to the American colonel, in honor of his country. He stood, for a
+mo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>ment, thrilled and amazed. The demonstration struck so deeply into
+his big and patriotic heart that his voice choked and his eyes filled
+with tears as he passed up the long aisle.</p>
+
+<p>There were many greetings as he went by.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah for the President!"</p>
+
+<p>"Vive l'Amerique!"</p>
+
+<p>And one deep-throated Briton, in a voice that rolled from end to end
+of the ward shouted:</p>
+
+<p>"God bless the United States!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"><a name="Illustration_Hospital" id="Illustration_Hospital"></a>
+<img src="images/hospital.jpg" width="419" height="500" alt="The French Hospital&#39;s Greeting To the American Colonel" title="The French Hospital&#39;s Greeting To the American Colonel" />
+<span class="caption">The French Hospital&#39;s Greeting To the American Colonel</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>But perhaps no one was more rejoiced over the fact of America's
+entrance into the war than was Penfield Butler. From the moment when
+he heard the news of the President's message he seemed to take on new
+life. And as each day's paper recorded the developing movements, and
+the almost universal sentiment of the American people in sustaining
+the government at Washington, his pulses thrilled, color came into his
+blanched face, and new light into eyes that not long before had looked
+for many weeks at material things and had seen them not.</p>
+
+<p>He was sitting up in his bed that morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> and had seen his
+grandfather come up the aisle amid the forest of little flags and the
+sound of cheering voices.</p>
+
+<p>Grouped around him were' his mother, his Aunt Millicent, the
+<em>m&eacute;decin-chef</em>, and his devoted nurse, the American girl, Miss Byron.
+She was waving a small, silk American flag that had long been one of
+her cherished possessions.</p>
+
+<p>"We are so proud of America to-day, Colonel Butler," she exclaimed,
+"that we can't help cheering and waving flags."</p>
+
+<p>And the <em>m&eacute;decin-chef</em> shouted joyously:</p>
+
+<p>"<em>&Agrave; la bonne heure, mon Colonel!</em>"</p>
+
+<p>Pen, looking on with glowing eyes and cheeks flushed with enthusiasm,
+called out:</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather, isn't it glorious? If I could only fight it all over
+again, now, under my own American flag!"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Butler's face had never before been so radiant, his eyes so
+tender, or his voice so vibrant with emotion as when standing on the
+raised edge of the alcove, he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"On behalf of my beloved country, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you.
+She has taken her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> rightful place on the side of humanity. Her flag,
+splendid and spotless, floats, to-day, side by side with the tri-color
+and the Union Jack, over the manhood of nations united to save the
+world from bondage and barbarism."</p>
+
+<p>He faced the <em>m&eacute;decin-chef</em> and continued: "Your cry to us to 'come
+over into Macedonia and help' you, shall no longer go unheeded. Our
+wealth, our brains, our brawn shall be poured into your country as
+freely as water, to aid you in bringing the German tyrant to his
+knees, and, as our great President has said: 'To make the world safe
+for democracy.'"</p>
+
+<p>He turned toward the rapt faces of the listening scores who lined the
+wards: "And men, my brothers, I say to you that you have not fought
+and suffered in vain. We shall win this war; and out of our great
+victory shall come that thousand years of peace foretold by holy men
+of old, in which your flag, and yours, and yours, and mine, floating
+over the heads of freemen in each beloved land, will be the most
+inspiring, the most beautiful, the most splendid thing on which the
+sun's rays shall ever fall."</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<h2><a name="Short_Historical_Sketch_of_the_United_States_Flag" id="Short_Historical_Sketch_of_the_United_States_Flag"></a>Short Historical Sketch of the United States Flag</h2>
+
+
+<p>After the war of the Revolution, it became necessary for the newly
+formed United States of America to devise a symbol, representing their
+freedom. During the war the different colonies had displayed various
+flags, but no national emblem had been selected. The American
+Congress, consequently, on the 14th of June, 1777, passed the
+following Resolution:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Resolved, That the flag of the thirteen united states shall be
+thirteen stripes, alternate red and white, that the union be
+thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new
+constellation." </p></div>
+
+<p>Betsy Ross, an upholsterer, living at 239 Arch Street, Philadelphia,
+Pa., had the honor of making the first flag for the new republic. The
+little house where she lived is still standing, and preserved as a
+memorial. This flag contained the thirteen stripes as at present, but
+the stars were arranged in a circle. This arrangement was later
+changed to horizontal lines, and the flag continued to have thirteen
+stars and thirteen stripes until 1795. When Vermont and Kentucky were
+added to the Union, two more stripes, as well as two more stars, were
+added. In 1817, it was seen that it would not be practicable to add a
+new stripe for each new state admitted to the Union, so after
+deliberation, Congress, in 1818, passed the following Act:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"An Act to establish the flag of the United States.</p>
+
+<p>"Sec. 1. That from and after the 4th of July next, the flag of the
+United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and
+white&mdash;that the Union have twenty stars, white in a blue field.</p>
+
+<p>"Sec. 2. Be it further enacted, that on the admission of every new
+State into the Union, one star be added to the Union of the flag,
+and that such addition shall take effect on the 4th of July next
+succeeding such admission." </p></div>
+
+<p>Since the passing of this Act, star after star has been added to the
+blue field until it now contains forty-eight, each one representing a
+staunch and loyal adherent.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="section_break"></div>
+<h2><a name="Boy_Scouts_Pledge_to_the_Flag" id="Boy_Scouts_Pledge_to_the_Flag"></a>Boy Scouts Pledge to the Flag</h2>
+
+
+<p>"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the Republic for which it
+stands; one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag, by Homer Greene
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag, by Homer Greene
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Flag
+
+Author: Homer Greene
+
+Release Date: April 26, 2008 [EBook #25188]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Chris Logan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FLAG
+
+By
+
+HOMER GREENE
+
+
+Author of
+"The Unhallowed Harvest,"
+"Pickett's Gap," "The Blind Brother," etc.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+PHILADELPHIA
+GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+_Copyright, 1917
+George W. Jacobs & Company_
+
+_All rights reserved
+Printed in U. S. A._
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: He Glared Defiantly About Him]
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+
+    He Glared Defiantly About Him                       _Frontispiece_
+
+    Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up,
+    But Failed to Find the Place                        _Facing p. 54_
+
+    Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of
+    His Brave Platoon                                       "      274
+
+    The French Hospital's Greeting to the
+    American Colonel                                        "      316
+
+
+
+
+THE FLAG
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Snow everywhere; freshly fallen, white and beautiful. It lay unsullied
+on the village roofs, and, trampled but not yet soiled, in the village
+streets. The spruce trees on the lawn at Bannerhall were weighted with
+it, and on the lawn itself it rested, like an ermine blanket, soft and
+satisfying. Down the steps of the porch that stretched across the
+front of the mansion, a boy ran, whistling, to the street.
+
+He was slender and wiry, agile and sure-footed. He had barely reached
+the gate when the front door of the square, stately old brick house
+was opened and a woman came out on the porch and called to him.
+
+"Pen!"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Millicent." He turned to listen to her.
+
+"Pen, don't forget that your grandfather's going to New York on the
+five-ten train, and that you are to be at the station to see him off."
+
+"I won't forget, auntie."
+
+"And then come straight home."
+
+"Straight as a string, Aunt Milly."
+
+"All right! Good-by!"
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+He passed through the gate, and down the street toward the center of
+the village. It was the noon recess and he was on his way back to
+school where he must report at one-fifteen sharp. He had an abundance
+of time, however, and he stopped in front of the post-office to talk
+with another boy about the coasting on Drake's Hill. It was while he
+was standing there that some one called to him from the street. Seated
+in an old-fashioned cutter drawn by an old gray horse were an old man
+and a young woman. The woman's face flushed and brightened, and her
+eyes shone with gladness, as Pen leaped from the sidewalk and ran
+toward her.
+
+"Why, mother!" he cried. "I didn't expect to see you. Are you in for a
+sleigh-ride?"
+
+She bent over and kissed him and patted his cheek before she replied,
+
+"Yes, dearie. Grandpa had to come to town; and it's so beautiful after
+the snow that I begged to come along."
+
+Then the old man, round-faced and rosy, with a fringe of gray whiskers
+under his chin, and a green and red comforter about his neck, reached
+out a mittened hand and shook hands with Pen.
+
+"Couldn't keep her to hum," he said, "when she seen me hitchin' up old
+Charlie."
+
+He laughed good-naturedly and tucked the buffalo-robe in under him.
+
+"How's grandma?" asked Pen.
+
+"Jest about as usual," was the reply. "When you comin' out to see us?"
+
+"I don't know. Maybe a week from Saturday. I'll see."
+
+Then Pen's mother spoke again.
+
+"You were going to school, weren't you? We won't keep you. Give my
+love to Aunt Millicent; and come soon to see us."
+
+She kissed him again; the old man clicked to his horse, and succeeded,
+after some effort, in starting him, and Pen returned to the sidewalk
+and resumed his journey toward school.
+
+It was noticeable that no one had spoken of Colonel Butler, the
+grandfather with whom Pen lived at Bannerhall on the main street of
+Chestnut Hill. There was a reason for that. Colonel Butler was Pen's
+paternal grandfather; and Colonel Butler's son had married contrary to
+his father's wish. When, a few years later, the son died, leaving a
+widow and an only child, Penfield, the colonel had so far relented as
+to offer a home to his grandson, and to provide an annuity for the
+widow. She declined the annuity for herself, but accepted the offer of
+a home for her son. She knew that it would be a home where, in charge
+of his aunt Millicent, her boy would receive every advantage of care,
+education and culture. So she kissed him good-by and left him there,
+and she herself, ill, penniless and wretched, went back to live with
+her father on the little farm at Cobb's Corners, five miles away. But
+all that was ten years before, and Pen was now fourteen. That he had
+been well cared for was manifest in his clothing, his countenance,
+his bearing and his whole demeanor as he hurried along the partly
+swept pavement toward his destination.
+
+A few blocks farther on he overtook a school-fellow, and, as they
+walked together, they discussed the war.
+
+For war had been declared. It had not only been declared, it was in
+actual progress.
+
+Equipped and generalled, stubborn and aggressive, the opposing forces
+had faced each other for weeks. Yet it had not been a sanguinary
+conflict. Aside from a few bruised shins and torn coats and missing
+caps, there had been no casualties worth mentioning. It was not a
+country-wide war. It was, indeed, a war of which no history save this
+veracious chronicle, gives any record.
+
+The contending armies were composed of boys. And the boys were
+residents, respectively, of the Hill and the Valley; two villages,
+united under the original name of Chestnut Hill, and so closely joined
+together that it would have been impossible for a stranger to tell
+where one ended and the other began. The Hill, back on the plateau,
+had the advantage of age and the prestige that wealth gives. The
+Valley, established down on the river bank when the railroad was built
+through, had the benefit of youth and the virtue of aggressiveness.
+Yet they were mutually interdependent. One could not have prospered
+without the aid of the other. When the new graded-school building was
+erected, it was located on the brow of the hill in order to
+accommodate pupils from both villages. From that time the boys who
+lived on the hill were called Hilltops, and those who lived in the
+valley were called Riverbeds. Just when the trouble began, or what was
+the specific cause of it, no one seemed exactly to know. Like Topsy,
+it simply grew. With the first snow of the winter came the first
+physical clash between the opposing forces of Hilltops and Riverbeds.
+It was a mild enough encounter, but it served to whet the appetites of
+the young combatants for more serious warfare. Miss Grey, the
+principal of the school, was troubled and apprehensive. She had
+encouraged a friendly rivalry between the two sets of boys in matters
+of intellectual achievement, but she greatly deprecated such a state
+of hostility as would give rise to harsh feelings or physical
+violence. She knew that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to
+coerce them into peace and harmony, so she set about to contrive some
+method by which the mutual interest of the boys could be aroused and
+blended toward the accomplishment of a common object.
+
+The procuring of an American flag for the use of the school had long
+been talked of, and it occurred to her now that if she could stimulate
+a friendly rivalry among her pupils, in an effort to obtain funds for
+the purchase of a flag, it might divert their minds from thoughts of
+hostility to each other, into channels where a laudable competition
+would be provocative of harmony. So she decided, after consultation
+with the two grade teachers, to prepare two subscription blanks, each
+with its proper heading, and place them respectively in the hands of
+Penfield Butler captain of the Hilltops, and Alexander Sands commander
+of the Riverbeds. The other pupils would be instructed to fall in
+behind these leaders and see which party could obtain, not necessarily
+the most money, but the largest number of subscriptions. She felt
+that interest in the flag would be aroused by the numbers contributing
+rather than by the amount contributed. It was during the session of
+the school that afternoon that she made the announcement of her plan,
+and delivered the subscription papers to the two captains. She aroused
+much enthusiasm by the little speech she made, dwelling on the beauty
+and symbolism of the flag, and the patriotic impulse that would be
+aroused and strengthened by having it always in sight.
+
+No one questioned the fact that Pen Butler was the leader of the
+Hilltops, nor did any one question the similar fact that Aleck Sands
+was the leader of the Riverbeds. There had never been any election or
+appointment, to be sure, but, by common consent and natural selection,
+these two had been chosen in the beginning as commanders of the
+separate hosts.
+
+When, therefore, the subscription blanks were put into the hands of
+these boys as leaders, every one felt that nothing would be left
+undone by either to win fame and honor for his party in the matter of
+the flag.
+
+So, when the afternoon session of school closed, every one had
+forgotten, for the time being at least, the old rivalry, and was ready
+to enlist heartily in the new one.
+
+There was fine coasting that day on Drake's Hill. The surface of the
+road-bed, hard and smooth, had been worn through in patches, but the
+snow-fall of the night before had so dressed it over as to make it
+quite perfect for this exhilarating winter sport.
+
+As he left the school-house Pen looked at his watch, a gift from his
+grandfather Butler on his last birthday, and found that he would have
+more than half an hour in which to enjoy himself at coasting before it
+would be necessary to start for the railroad station to see Colonel
+Butler off on the train. So, with his companions, he went to Drake's
+Hill. It was fine sport indeed. The bobs had never before descended so
+swiftly nor covered so long a stretch beyond the incline. But, no
+matter how fascinating the sport, Pen kept his engagement in mind and
+intended to leave the hill in plenty of time to meet it. There were
+especial reasons this day why he should do so. In the first place
+Colonel Butler would be away from home for nearly a week, and it had
+always been Pen's custom to see his grandfather off on a journey, even
+though he were to be gone but a day. And in the next place he wanted
+to be sure to get Colonel Butler's name at the head of his flag
+subscription list. This would doubtless be the most important
+contribution to be made to the fund.
+
+At half-past four he decided to take one more ride and then start for
+the station. But on that ride an accident occurred. The bobs on which
+the boys were seated collapsed midway of the descent, and threw the
+coasters into a heap in the ditch. None of them was seriously hurt,
+though the loose stones among which they were thrown were not
+sufficiently cushioned by the snow to prevent some bruises, and
+abrasions of the skin. Of course there was much confusion and
+excitement. There was scrambling, and rubbing of hurt places, and an
+immediate investigation into the cause of the wreck. In the midst of
+it all Pen forgot about his engagement. When the matter did recur to
+his mind he glanced at his watch and found that it lacked but twelve
+minutes of train time. It would be only by hard sprinting and rare
+good luck that he would be able to reach the station in time to see
+his grandfather off. Without a word of explanation to his fellows he
+started away on a keen run. They looked after him in open-mouthed
+wonder. They could not conceive what had happened to him. One boy
+suggested that he had been frightened out of his senses by the shock
+of the accident; and another that he had struck his head against a
+rock and had gone temporarily insane, and that he ought to be followed
+to see that he did no harm to himself. But no one offered to go on
+such a mission, and, after watching the runner out of sight, they
+turned their attention again to the wrecked bobs.
+
+Aleck Sands went straight from school to his home in the valley. There
+were afternoon chores to be done, and he was anxious to finish them as
+soon as possible in order that he might start out with his
+subscription paper.
+
+He did not hope to equal Pen in the amount of contributions, for he
+had no wealthy grandfather on whom to depend, but he did intend to
+excel him in the number of subscribers. And it was desirable that he
+should be early in the field.
+
+It was almost dusk when he started from home to go to the grist-mill
+of which his father was the proprietor. He wanted to get his father's
+signature first, both as a matter of policy and as a matter of filial
+courtesy.
+
+As he approached the railroad station, which it was necessary for him
+to pass on his way to the mill, he saw Colonel Butler pacing up and
+down the platform which faced the town, and, at every turn, looking
+anxiously up the street.
+
+It was evident that the colonel was waiting for the train, and it was
+just as evident that he was expecting some one, probably Pen, to come
+to the station to see him off. And Pen was nowhere in sight.
+
+A brilliant and daring thought entered Aleck's mind. While,
+ordinarily, he was neither brilliant nor daring, yet he was
+intelligent, quick and resourceful. He was always ready to meet an
+emergency. The idea that had taken such sudden possession of him was
+nothing more nor less than an impulse to solicit Colonel Butler for a
+subscription to the flag fund and thus forestall Pen. And why not? He
+knew of nothing to prevent. Pen had no exclusive right to
+subscriptions from the Hill, any more than he, Aleck, had to
+subscriptions from the Valley. And if he could be first to obtain a
+contribution from Colonel Butler, the most important citizen of
+Chestnut Hill, if not of the whole county, what plaudits would he not
+receive from his comrades of the Riverbeds?
+
+Having made up his mind he was not slow to act. He was already within
+fifty feet of the platform on which the gray-mustached and stern-faced
+veteran of the civil war was impatiently marching up and down. An
+empty sleeve was pinned to the breast of the old soldier's coat; but
+he stood erect, and his steps were measured with soldierly precision.
+He had stopped for a moment to look, with keener scrutiny, up the
+street which led to the station. Aleck stepped up on the platform and
+approached him.
+
+"Good evening, Colonel Butler!" he said.
+
+The man turned and faced him.
+
+"Good evening, sir!" he replied. "You have somewhat the advantage of
+me, sir."
+
+"My name is Aleck Sands," explained the boy. "My father has the
+grist-mill here. Miss Grey, she is our teacher at the graded school,
+and she gave me a paper--"
+
+Colonel Butler interrupted him.
+
+"A pupil at the graded school are you, sir? Do you chance to know a
+lad there by the name of Penfield Butler; and if you know him can you
+give me any information concerning his whereabouts this evening?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I know him. After school he started for Drake's Hill with
+some other Hill boys to go a coasting."
+
+"Ah! Pleasure before duty. He was to have met me here prior to the
+leaving of the train. I have little patience, sir, with boys who
+neglect engagements to promote their own pleasures."
+
+He had such an air of severity as he said it, that Aleck was not sure
+whether, after all, he would dare to reapproach him on the subject of
+the subscription. But he plucked up courage and started in anew.
+
+"Our teacher, Miss Grey, gave me this paper to get subscriptions on
+for the new flag. I'd be awful glad if you'd give something toward
+it."
+
+"What's that?" asked the man as he took the paper from Aleck's hand.
+"A flag for the school? And has the school no flag?"
+
+"No, sir; not any."
+
+"The directors have been derelict in their duty, sir. They should have
+provided a flag on the erection of the building. No public school
+should be without an American flag. Let me see."
+
+He unhooked his eye-glasses from the breast of his waistcoat and put
+them on, shook out the paper dexterously with his one hand, and began
+to read it aloud.
+
+    "We, the undersigned, hereby agree to pay the sums set opposite
+    our respective names, for the purpose of purchasing an American
+    flag for the Chestnut Hill public school. All subscriptions to be
+    payable to a collector hereafter to be appointed."
+
+Colonel Butler removed his glasses from his nose and stood for a
+moment in contemplation.
+
+"I approve of the project," he said at last. "Our youth should be made
+familiar with the sight of the flag. They should be taught to
+reverence it. They should learn of the gallant deeds of those who have
+fought for it through many great wars. I shall be glad to affix my
+name, sir, to the document, and to make a modest contribution. How
+large a fund is it proposed to raise?"
+
+Aleck stammered a little as he replied. He had not expected so ready a
+compliance with his request. And it was beginning to dawn on him that
+it might be good policy, as well as a matter of common fairness, to
+tell the colonel frankly that Pen also had been authorized to solicit
+subscriptions. There might indeed be such a thing as revoking a
+subscription made under a misleading representation, or a suppression
+of facts. And if that should happen--
+
+"Why," said Aleck, "why--Miss Grey said she thought we ought to get
+twenty-five dollars. We've got to get a pole too, you know."
+
+"Certainly you must have a staff, and a good one. Twenty-five dollars
+is not enough money, young man. You should have forty dollars at
+least. Fifty would be better. I'll give half of that amount myself.
+There should be no skimping, no false economy, in a matter of such
+prime importance. I shall see Miss Grey about it personally when I
+return from New York. Kindly accompany me to the station-agent's
+office where I can procure pen and ink."
+
+Aleck knew that the revelation could be no longer delayed.
+
+"But," he stammered, "but, Colonel Butler, you know Pen's got one
+too."
+
+The colonel turned back again.
+
+"Got what?" he asked.
+
+"Why, one of these, now, subscription papers."
+
+"Has he?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Colonel Butler stood for a moment, apparently in deep thought. Then he
+looked out again from under his bushy eye-brows, searchingly, up the
+street. He took his watch from his pocket and glanced at it. After
+that he spoke.
+
+"Under normal conditions, sir, my grandson would have preference in a
+matter of this kind, and I am obliged to you for unselfishly making
+the suggestion. But, as he has failed to perform a certain duty toward
+me, I shall consider myself relieved, for the time being, of my duty
+of preference toward him. Kindly accompany me to the station-master's
+office."
+
+With Aleck in his wake he strode down the platform and across the
+waiting-room, among the people who had gathered to wait for or depart
+by the train, and spoke to the ticket-agent at the window.
+
+"Will you kindly permit me, sir, to use your table and pen and ink to
+sign a document of some importance?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+The man at the window opened the door of the agent's room and bade the
+colonel and Aleck to enter. He pushed a chair up to the table and
+placed ink and pens within reach.
+
+"Help yourself, Colonel Butler," he said. "We're glad to accommodate
+you."
+
+But the colonel had barely seated himself before a new thought
+entered his mind. He pondered for a moment, and then swung around in
+the swivel-chair and faced the boy who stood waiting, cap in hand.
+
+"Young man," he said, "it just occurs to me that I can serve your
+school as well, and please myself better, by making a donation of the
+flag instead of subscribing to the fund. Does the idea meet with your
+approval?"
+
+The proposition came so unexpectedly, and the question so suddenly,
+that Aleck hardly knew how to respond.
+
+"Why, yes, sir," he said hesitatingly, "I suppose so. You mean you'll
+give us the flag?"
+
+"Yes; I'll give you the flag. I am about starting for New York. I will
+purchase one while there. And in the spring I will provide a proper
+staff for it, in order that it may be flung to the breeze."
+
+By this time Aleck comprehended the colonel's plan.
+
+"Why," he exclaimed enthusiastically, "that'll be great! May I tell
+Miss Grey?"
+
+"You may be the sole bearer of my written offer to your respected
+teacher."
+
+He swung around to the table and picked up a pen.
+
+"Your teacher's given name is--?" he inquired.
+
+"Why," stammered Aleck, "it's--it's--why, her name's Miss Helen Grey."
+
+The colonel began to write rapidly on the blank page of the
+subscription paper.
+
+    "_To Miss Helen Grey;_
+      "_Principal of the Public School_
+        "_Chestnut Hill._
+
+    "My Dear Madam:
+
+    "I am informed by one of your pupils, Master--"
+
+He stopped long enough to ask the boy for his full name, and then
+continued to write--
+
+    "Alexander McMurtrie Sands, that it is your patriotic purpose to
+    procure an American flag for use in your school. With this purpose
+    I am in hearty accord. It will therefore give me great pleasure,
+    my dear madam, to procure for you at once, at my sole expense, and
+    present to your school, an appropriate banner, to be followed in
+    due season by a fitting staff. I trust that my purpose and desire
+    may commend themselves to you. I wish also that your pupil, the
+    aforesaid Master Sands, shall have full credit for having so
+    successfully called this matter to my attention; and to that end I
+    make him sole bearer of this communication.
+
+      "I remain, my dear madam,
+        "Your obedient servant,
+          "Richard Butler."
+
+    January 12th.
+
+
+Colonel Butler read the letter over slowly aloud, folded the
+subscription paper on which it had been written, and handed it to
+Aleck.
+
+"There, young man," he said, "are your credentials, and my offer."
+
+The shrieking whistle had already announced the approach of the train,
+and the easy puffing of the locomotive indicated that it was now
+standing at the station. The colonel rose from his chair and started
+across the room, followed by Aleck.
+
+"You're very kind to do that," said the boy. And he added: "Have you a
+grip that I can carry to the train for you?"
+
+"No, thank you! A certain act--rash perhaps, but justifiable,--in the
+civil war, cost me an arm. Since then, when traveling, I have found it
+convenient to check my baggage."
+
+He pushed his way through the crowd on the platform, still followed by
+Aleck, and mounted the rear steps of the last coach on the train. The
+engine bell was ringing. The conductor cried, "All aboard!" and
+signalled to the engineer, and the train moved slowly out.
+
+On the rear platform, scanning the crowd at the station, stood Colonel
+Butler, tall, soldierly, impressive. He saw Aleck and waved his hand
+to him. And at that moment, capless, breathless, hopeless, around the
+corner of the station into sight, dashed Pen Butler.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Pen was not only exhausted by his race, he was disappointed and
+distressed as well.
+
+Whether or not his grandfather had seen him as the train moved out he
+did not know. He simply knew that for him not to have been there on
+time was little less than tragical. He dropped down limply on a
+convenient trunk to regain his breath.
+
+After a minute he was aware that some one was standing near by,
+looking at him. He glanced up and saw that it was Aleck Sands. He was
+nettled. He knew of no reason why Aleck should stand there staring at
+him.
+
+"Well," he asked impatiently, "is there anything about me that's
+particularly astonishing?"
+
+"Not particularly," replied Aleck. "You seem to be winded, that's
+all."
+
+"You'd be winded too, if you'd run all the way from Drake's Hill."
+
+"Too bad you missed your grandfather. He was looking for you."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"He told me so. He wanted to know if I'd seen you."
+
+"What did you tell him?"
+
+"I told him you'd gone to Drake's Hill, coasting."
+
+Pen rose slowly to his feet. What right, he asked himself, had this
+fellow to be telling tales about him? What right had he to be talking
+to Colonel Butler, anyway? However, he did not choose to lower his
+dignity further by inquiry. He turned as if to leave the station. But
+Aleck, who had been turning the matter over carefully in his mind, had
+decided that Pen ought to know about the proposed gift of the flag. He
+ought not to be permitted, unwittingly, to go on securing
+subscriptions to a fund which, by reason of Colonel Butler's proposed
+gift, had been made unnecessary. That would be cruel and humiliating.
+So, as Pen turned away, he said to him:
+
+"I've put in some work for the flag this afternoon."
+
+"I s'pose so," responded Pen. "But it does not follow that by getting
+the first start you'll come out best in the end."
+
+"Maybe not; but I'd like to show you what I've done."
+
+He took the subscription paper from his pocket and began to unfold it.
+
+"Oh," replied Pen, "I don't care what you've done. It's none of my
+business. You get your subscriptions and I'll get mine."
+
+Aleck looked for a moment steadily at his opponent. Then he folded up
+his paper and put it back into his pocket.
+
+"All right!" he said. "Only don't forget that I offered to show it to
+you to-day."
+
+But Pen was both resentful and scornful. He did not propose to treat
+his rival's offer seriously, nor to give him the satisfaction of
+looking at his paper.
+
+"You can't bluff me that way," he said. "And besides, I'm not
+interested in what you're doing."
+
+And he walked around the corner of the station platform and out into
+the street.
+
+When Aleck Sands tramped up the hill to school on the following
+morning it was with no great sense of jubilation over his success. He
+had an uneasy feeling that he had not done exactly the fair thing in
+soliciting a subscription from Pen Butler's grandfather. It was, in a
+way, trenching on Pen's preserves. But he justified himself on the
+ground that he had a perfect right to get his contributions where he
+chose. His agency had been conditioned by no territorial limits. And
+if, by his diligence, he had outwitted Pen, surely he had nothing to
+regret. So far as his failure to disclose to his rival the fact of
+Colonel Butler's gift was concerned, that, he felt, was Pen's own
+fault. If, by his offensive conduct, the other boy had deprived
+himself of his means of knowledge, and had humiliated himself and made
+himself ridiculous by procuring unnecessary subscriptions, certainly
+he, Aleck, was not to blame. Under any circumstances, now that he had
+gone so far in the matter, he would not yield an inch nor make a
+single concession. On that course he was fully determined.
+
+On the walk, as he approached the school-house door, Pen was standing,
+with a group of Hill boys. They were discussing the accident that had
+occurred on Drake's Hill the day before. They paid little attention to
+Aleck as he passed by them, but, just as he was mounting the steps,
+Pen called out to him.
+
+"Oh, Aleck! You wanted to show me your subscription paper last night.
+I'll look at it now, and you look at mine, and we'll leave it to the
+fellows here who's got the most names and the most money promised. And
+I haven't got my grandfather on it yet, either."
+
+Aleck turned and faced him. "Remember what you said to me last night?"
+he asked. "Well, I'll say the same thing to you this morning. I'm not
+interested in your paper. It's none of my business. You get your
+subscriptions and I'll get mine."
+
+And he mounted the steps and entered the school-room.
+
+Miss Grey was already at her desk, and he went straight to her.
+
+"I've brought back my subscription blank, Miss Grey," he said, and he
+handed the paper to her.
+
+She looked up in surprise.
+
+"You haven't completed your canvass, have you?" she asked.
+
+"No. If you'll read the paper you'll see it wasn't necessary."
+
+She unfolded the paper and read the letter written on it. Her face
+flushed; but whether with astonishment or anxiety it would have been
+difficult to say.
+
+"Did Colonel Butler know," she inquired, "when he wrote this, that Pen
+also had a subscription paper?"
+
+"Yes. I met him at the station last night, when he was starting for
+New York, and I told him all about it."
+
+"Was Pen there?"
+
+"No; he didn't get there till after the train started."
+
+"Does he know about this letter?"
+
+"Not from me. I offered to show it to him but he wouldn't look at it."
+
+"Aleck, there's something strange about this. I don't quite understand
+it. Is Pen outside?"
+
+"Yes; he was when I came."
+
+"Call him in, please; and return with him."
+
+Aleck went to the door, his resolution to stand by his conduct growing
+stronger every minute. He called to Pen.
+
+"Miss Grey wants to see you," he said.
+
+"What for?" inquired Pen.
+
+"She'll tell you when you come in."
+
+Both boys returned to the teacher.
+
+"Pen," she inquired, "have you obtained any subscriptions to your
+paper for the flag fund?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Grey," he replied. "I think I've done pretty well
+considering my grandfather's not home."
+
+He handed his paper to her with a show of pardonable pride; but she
+merely glanced at the long list of names.
+
+"Did you know," she asked, "that Colonel Butler has decided to give
+the flag to the school?"
+
+Pen opened his eyes in astonishment.
+
+"No," he said. "Has he?"
+
+"Read this letter, please."
+
+She handed the colonel's letter to him and he began to read it. His
+face grew red and his eyes snapped. He had been outwitted. He knew in
+a moment when, where and how it had been done. He handed the paper
+back to Miss Grey.
+
+"All right!" he said. "But I think it was a mean, underhanded,
+contemptible trick."
+
+Then Aleck, slow to wrath, woke up.
+
+"There was nothing mean nor underhanded about it," he retorted. "I had
+a perfect right to ask Colonel Butler for a subscription. And if he
+chose to give the whole flag, that was his lookout. And," turning to
+Pen, "if you'd been half way decent last night, you'd have known all
+about this thing then, and maybe saved yourself some trouble."
+
+Before Pen could flash back a reply, Miss Grey intervened.
+
+"That will do, boys. I'm not sure who is in the wrong here, if any one
+is. I propose to find out about that, later. It's an unfortunate
+situation; but, in justice to Colonel Butler, we must accept it." She
+handed Pen's paper back to him, and added: "I think you had better
+take this back to your subscribers, and ask them to cancel their
+subscriptions. I will consult with my associates at noon, and we will
+decide upon our future course. In the meantime I charge you both,
+strictly, to say nothing about this matter until after I have made my
+announcement at the afternoon session. You may take your seats."
+
+The school bell had already ceased ringing, and the pupils had filed
+in and had taken their proper places. So Aleck and Pen went down the
+aisle, the one with stubborn resolution marking his countenance, the
+other with keen resentment flashing from his eyes.
+
+And poor Miss Grey, mild and peace-loving, but now troubled and
+despondent, who had thought to restore harmony among her pupils,
+foresaw, instead, only a continued and more bitter rivalry.
+
+Notwithstanding her admonition, rumors of serious trouble between
+Aleck and Pen filtered through the school-room during the morning
+session, and were openly discussed at the noon recess. But both boys
+kept silent.
+
+It was not until the day's work had been finally disposed of, and the
+closing hour had almost arrived, that Miss Grey made her announcement.
+
+With all the composure at her command she called the attention of the
+school to the plan for a flag fund.
+
+"Our end has been accomplished," she added, "much more quickly and
+successfully than we had dared to hope, as you will see by this letter
+which I shall read to you."
+
+When she had finished reading the letter there was a burst of
+applause. The school had not discovered the currents under the
+surface.
+
+She continued:
+
+"This, of course, will do away with the necessity of obtaining
+subscriptions. Honors appear to be nearly even. A prominent citizen of
+Chestnut Hill has given us the flag--" (Loud applause from the
+Hilltops;) "and a pupil from Chestnut Valley has the distinction of
+having procured the gift." (Cheers for Aleck Sands from the
+Riverbeds.) "Now let rivalry cease, and let us unite in a fitting
+acceptance of the gift. I have consulted with my associates, and we
+have appointed a committee to wait upon Colonel Butler and to
+cooperate with him in fixing a day for the presentation of the flag to
+the school. We will make a half-holiday for the occasion, and will
+prepare an order of exercises. We assume that Colonel Butler will make
+a speech of presentation, and we have selected Penfield Butler as the
+most appropriate person to respond on behalf of the school. Penfield
+will prepare himself accordingly."
+
+By making this appointment Miss Grey had hoped to pour oil upon the
+troubled waters, and to bring about at least a semblance of harmony
+among the warring elements. But, as the event proved, she had counted
+without her host. For she had no sooner finished her address than Pen
+was on his feet. His face was pale and there was a strange look in his
+eyes, but he did not appear to be unduly excited.
+
+"May I speak, Miss Grey?" he asked.
+
+"Certainly," she replied.
+
+"Then I want to say that I'm very much obliged to you for appointing
+me, but I decline the appointment. I'm glad the school's going to have
+a flag, and I'm glad my grandfather's going to give it; and I thank
+you, Miss Grey, for trying to please me; but I don't propose to be
+made the tail of Aleck Sands' kite. If he thinks it's an honor to get
+the flag the way he got it, let him have the honor of accepting it."
+
+Pen sat down. There was no applause. Even his own followers were too
+greatly amazed for the moment to applaud him. And, before they got
+their wits together, Miss Grey had again taken the reins in hand.
+
+"I am sure we all regret," she said, "that Penfield does not see fit
+to accept this appointment, and we should regret still more the
+attitude of mind that leads him to decline it. However, in accordance
+with his suggestion, I will name Alexander Sands as the person who
+will make the response to Colonel Butler's presentation speech. That
+is all to-day. When school is dismissed you will not loiter about the
+school grounds, but go immediately to your homes."
+
+It was a wise precaution on Miss Grey's part to direct her pupils to
+go at once to their homes. There is no telling what disorder might
+have taken place had they been permitted to remain. The group of
+Hilltops that surrounded Pen as he marched up the street and explained
+the situation to them, was loud in its condemnation of the meanness
+and trickery of Aleck Sands; and the party of Riverbeds that walked
+down with Aleck was jubilant over the clever way in which he had
+outwitted his opponent, and had, by obtaining honor for himself,
+conferred honor also upon them.
+
+Colonel Butler returned, in due season, from New York.
+
+Pen met him at the station on his arrival. There was no delay on this
+occasion. Indeed, the boy had paced up and down the platform for at
+least fifteen minutes before the train drew in. During the ride up to
+Bannerhall, behind the splendid team of blacks with their jingling
+bells, nothing was said about the gift of the flag. It was not until
+dinner had been served and partly eaten that the subject was
+mentioned, and the colonel himself was the first one to mention it.
+
+"By the way, Penfield," he said, "I have ordered, and I expect to
+receive in a few days, an American flag which I shall present to your
+public school. I presume you have heard something concerning it?"
+
+"Yes, grandfather. Your letter was read to the school by Miss Grey the
+day after you went to New York."
+
+"Did she seem pleased over the gift?"
+
+"Yes, very much so, I think. It was awfully nice of you to give it."
+
+"A--was any arrangement made about receiving it?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Grey appointed a committee to see you. There's to be a
+half-holiday, and exercises."
+
+"I presume--a--Penfield, that I will be expected to make a brief
+address?"
+
+"Of course. Miss Grey's counting on it."
+
+"Now, father," interrupted Aunt Millicent, "I do hope it will be a
+really brief address. You're so long-winded. That speech you made when
+the school-house was dedicated was twice too long. Everybody got
+tired."
+
+His daughter Millicent was the only person on earth from whom Colonel
+Butler would accept criticism or reproof. And from her he not only
+accepted it, but not infrequently acted upon it in accordance with her
+wish. He had always humored her, because she had always lived with
+him, except during the time she was away at boarding school; and since
+the death of his wife, a dozen years before, she had devoted herself
+to his comfort. But he was fond, nevertheless, of getting into a mild
+argument with her, and being vanquished, as he expected to be now.
+
+"My dear daughter," he said, "I invariably gauge the length of my
+speech by the importance of the occasion. The occasion to which you
+refer was an important one, as will be the occasion of the
+presentation of this flag. It will be necessary for me, therefore, to
+address the pupils and the assembled guests at sufficient length to
+impress upon them the desirability, you may say the necessity, of
+having a patriotic emblem, such as is the American flag, constantly
+before the eyes of our youth."
+
+His daughter laughed a little. She was never awed by his stately
+manner of speech.
+
+"All the same," she replied; "I shall get a seat in the front row, and
+if you exceed fifteen minutes--fifteen minutes to a minute, mind
+you--I shall hold up a warning finger; and if you still trespass, I
+shall go up and drag you off the platform by your coat tails; and then
+you'd look pretty, wouldn't you?"
+
+Apparently he did not find it profitable to prolong the argument with
+her on this occasion, for he laughed and turned again to Pen.
+
+"By the way, Penfield," he said, "I missed you at the train the day I
+left home. I suppose something of major importance detained you?"
+
+Pen blushed a little, but he replied frankly:
+
+"I was awfully sorry, grandfather; I meant to have written you about
+it. I didn't exactly forget; but I was coasting on Drake's Hill, and
+there was an accident, and I was very much excited, and it got
+train-time before I knew it. Then I ran as fast as I could, but it
+wasn't any use."
+
+"I see. I trust that no one was seriously injured?"
+
+"No, sir. I bruised my shin a little, and Elmer scraped his knee, and
+the bobs were wrecked; that's about all."
+
+Colonel Butler adjusted his glasses and leaned back in his chair; a
+habit he had when about to deliver himself of an opinion which he
+deemed important.
+
+"Penfield," he said, "a gentleman should never permit anything to
+interfere with the keeping of his engagements. If the matter in hand
+is of sufficient importance to call for an engagement, it is of
+sufficient importance to keep the engagement so made. It is an
+elementary principle of good conduct that a gentleman should always
+keep his word. Otherwise the relations of men with each other would
+become chaotic."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Pen.
+
+Colonel Butler removed his glasses and again applied himself to the
+disposal of his food which had been cut into convenient portions by
+his devoted daughter.
+
+But his mind soon recurred to the subject of the flag.
+
+"A--Penfield," he inquired, "do you chance to know whether any person
+has been chosen to make a formal response to my speech of
+presentation?"
+
+Pen felt that the conversation was approaching an embarrassing stage,
+but there was no hesitancy in his manner as he replied:
+
+"Yes, sir. The boy that got your offer, Aleck Sands, will make the
+response."
+
+"H'm! I was hoping, expecting in fact, that you, yourself, would be
+chosen to perform that pleasing duty. Had you been, we could have
+prepared our several speeches with a view to their proper relation to
+each other. It occurred to me that your teacher, Miss Grey, would have
+this fact in mind. Do you happen to know of any reason why she should
+not have appointed you?"
+
+For the first time in the course of the conversation Pen hesitated and
+stammered.
+
+"Why, I--she--she did appoint me."
+
+"Haven't you just told me, sir, that--"
+
+"But, grandfather, I declined."
+
+Aunt Millicent dropped her hands into her lap in astonishment.
+
+"Pen Butler!" she exclaimed, "why haven't you told me a word of this
+before?"
+
+"Because, Aunt Milly, it wasn't a very agreeable incident, and I
+didn't want to bother you telling about it."
+
+Colonel Butler had, in the meantime, again put on his glasses in order
+that he might look more searchingly at his grandson.
+
+"Permit me to inquire," he asked, "why you should have declined so
+distinct an honor?"
+
+Then Pen blurted out his whole grievance.
+
+"Because Aleck Sands didn't do the fair thing. He got you to give the
+flag through him instead of through me, by a mean trick. He gets the
+credit of getting the flag; now let him have the honor of accepting
+it. I won't play second fiddle to such a fellow as he is, and that's
+all there is to it."
+
+He pushed his chair back from the table and sat, with flaming cheeks
+and defiant eyes, as if ready to meet all comers.
+
+Aunt Millicent, more astonished than ever, exclaimed:
+
+"Why, Pen Butler, I'm shocked!"
+
+But the colonel did not seem to be shocked. Back of his glasses there
+was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes which Pen could not see. Here
+was the old Butler pride and independence manifesting itself; the
+spirit which had made the family prosperous and prominent. He was not
+ill-pleased. Nevertheless he leaned back in his chair and spoke
+impressively:
+
+"Now let us consider the situation. You received from your teacher a
+copy of the same subscription blank which was handed to your
+fellow-pupil. Had you met your engagement at the station, and called
+the matter to my attention, you would doubtless have received my
+subscription, or been the bearer of my offer, in preference to any one
+else. In your absence your school-fellow seized a legitimate
+opportunity to present his case. My regret at your failure to appear,
+and my appreciation of his alertness, led me to favor him. I am unable
+to see why, under these circumstances, he should be charged with
+improper conduct."
+
+"Well," responded Pen, hotly, "he might at least have told you that I
+had a subscription blank too."
+
+"He did so inform me. And his fairness and frankness in doing so was
+an inducing cause of my favorable consideration of his request."
+
+Pen felt that the ground was being cut away from under his feet, but
+he still had one grievance left.
+
+"Anyway," he exclaimed, "he might have told me about your giving the
+whole flag, instead of letting me go around like a monkey, collecting
+pennies for nothing."
+
+"Very true, Penfield, he should have told you. Didn't he intimate to
+you in any way what I had done? Didn't he offer to show you his
+subscription blank containing my letter?"
+
+"Why--why, yes, I believe he did."
+
+"And you declined to look at it?"
+
+"Yes, I declined to look at it. I considered it none of my business.
+But he might have told me what was on it."
+
+"My dear grandson; this is a case in which the alertness of your
+school-fellow, added to your failure to keep an engagement and to
+grasp a situation, has led to your discomfiture. Let this be a lesson
+to you to be diligent, vigilant and forearmed. Only thus are great
+battles won."
+
+Again the colonel placed his glasses on the hook on the breast of his
+waistcoat, and resumed his activity in connection with his evening
+meal. It was plain that he considered the discussion at an end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+It was on an afternoon late in January that the flag was finally
+presented to the school. It was a day marked with fierce winds and
+flurries of snow, like a day in March.
+
+But the inclement weather did not prevent people from coming to the
+presentation exercises. The school room was full; even the aisles were
+filled, and more than one late-comer was turned away because there was
+no more room.
+
+Notwithstanding the fact that the Riverbeds were to have the lion's
+share of the honors of the occasion, and the further fact that
+resentment in the ranks of the Hilltops ran strong and deep, and
+doubly so since the outwitting of their leader, no attempt was made to
+block the program, or to interfere, in any way, with the success of
+the occasion.
+
+There were, indeed, some secret whisperings in a little group of which
+Elmer Cuddeback was the center; but, if any mischief was brewing, Pen
+did not know of it.
+
+Moreover, was it not Pen's grandfather who had given the flag, and who
+was to be the chief guest of the school, and was it not up to the
+Hilltops to see that he was treated with becoming courtesy? At any
+rate that was the "consensus of opinion" among them. Colonel Butler
+had prepared his presentation speech with great care. Twice he had
+read it aloud in his library to his grandson and to his daughter
+Millicent.
+
+His grandson had only favorable comment to make, but his daughter
+Millicent criticised it sharply. She said that it was twice too long,
+that it had too much "spread eagle" in it, and that it would be away
+over the heads of his audience anyway. So the colonel modified it
+somewhat; but, unfortunately, he neither made it simpler nor
+appreciably shorter.
+
+Aleck, too, under the supervision of his teacher, had prepared a
+fitting and patriotic response which he had committed to memory and
+had rehearsed many times. Pupils taking part in the rest of the
+program had been carefully and patiently drilled, and every one
+looked forward to an occasion which would be marked as a red-letter
+day in the history of the Chestnut Hill school.
+
+The exercises opened with the singing of "The Star Spangled Banner,"
+by the school. There was a brief prayer by the pastor of one of the
+village churches. Next came a recitation, "Barbara Frietchie," by a
+small girl. Then another girl read a brief history of the American
+flag. She was followed by James Garfield Morrissey, the crack
+elocutionist of the school, who recited, in fine form, a well-known
+patriotic poem, written to commemorate the heroism of American sailors
+who cheered the flag as they went down with the sinking flag-ship
+_Trenton_ in a hurricane which swept the Samoan coast in 1889.
+
+            THE BANNER OF THE SEA
+
+    By wind and wave the sailor brave has fared
+            To shores of every sea;
+    But, never yet have seamen met or dared
+            Grim death for victory,
+      In braver mood than they who died
+      On drifting decks in Apia's tide
+      While cheering every sailor's pride,
+              The Banner of the Free.
+
+    Columbia's men were they who then went down,
+            Not knights nor kings of old;
+    But brighter far their laurels are than crown
+            Or coronet of gold.
+      Our sailor true, of any crew,
+      Would give the last long breath he drew
+      To cheer the old Red, White and Blue,
+              The Banner of the Bold.
+
+    With hearts of oak, through storm and smoke and flame,
+            Columbia's seamen long
+    Have bravely fought and nobly wrought that shame
+            Might never dull their song.
+      They sing the Country of the Free,
+      The glory of the rolling sea,
+      The starry flag of liberty,
+              The Banner of the Strong.
+
+    We ask but this, and not amiss the claim;
+            A fleet to ride the wave,
+    A navy great to crown the state with fame,
+            Though foes or tempests rave.
+      Then, as our fathers did of yore,
+      We'll sail our ships to every shore,
+      On every ocean wind will soar
+              The Banner of the Brave.
+
+    Oh! this we claim that never shame may ride
+            On any wave with thee,
+    Thou ship of state whose timbers great abide
+            The home of liberty.
+      For, so, our gallant Yankee tars,
+      Of daring deeds and honored scars,
+      Will make the Banner of the Stars
+              The Banner of the Sea.
+
+The school having been roused to a proper pitch of enthusiasm by the
+reading of these verses, Colonel Butler rose in an atmosphere already
+surcharged with patriotism to make his presentation speech. Hearty
+applause greeted the colonel, for, notwithstanding his well-known
+idiosyncrasies, he was extremely popular in Chestnut Hill. He had been
+a brave soldier, an exemplary neighbor, a prominent and
+public-spirited citizen. Why should he not receive a generous welcome?
+He graciously bowed his acknowledgment, and when the hand-clapping
+ceased he began:
+
+"Honored teachers, diligent pupils, faithful directors, patriotic
+citizens, and friends. This is a most momentous occasion. We are met
+to-day to do honor to the flag of our country, a flag for which--and I
+say it with pardonable pride--I, myself, have fought on many a bloody
+and well-known field."
+
+There was a round of applause.
+
+The colonel's face flushed with pleasure, his voice rose and expanded,
+and in many a well-rounded phrase and burst of eloquence he appealed
+to the latent patriotism of his hearers.
+
+At the end of fifteen minutes he glanced at his watch which was lying
+on a table at his side, and then looked at his daughter Millicent who
+was occupying a chair in the front row as she had said she would. She
+frowned at him forbiddingly. But he was as yet scarcely half through
+his speech. He picked up his manuscript from the table and glanced at
+it, and then looked appealingly at her. She was obdurate. She held a
+warning forefinger in the air.
+
+"I am reminded," he said, "by one in the audience whose judgment I am
+bound to respect, that the time allotted to me in this program has
+nearly elapsed."
+
+"Fully elapsed," whispered his daughter with pursed lips, in such
+manner that, looking at her, he could not fail to catch the words.
+
+"Therefore," continued the colonel, with a sigh, "I must hasten to my
+conclusion. I wish to acknowledge my deep indebtedness to your
+faithful teacher, Miss Grey, by reason of whose patriotic initiative
+the opportunity was presented to me to make this gift. I wish also to
+commend the vigilance and effort of the young gentleman who brought
+the matter to my immediate and personal attention, and who, I am
+informed, will fittingly and eloquently respond to this brief and
+somewhat unsatisfactory address, Master Alexander Sands."
+
+Back somewhere in the audience, at the sound of the name, there was an
+audible sniff which was immediately drowned by loud hand-clapping on
+the part of the Riverbeds. But Colonel Butler was not yet quite
+through. Avoiding any ominous look which might have been aimed at him
+by his daughter, he hurried on:
+
+"And now, in conclusion, as I turn this flag over into your custody,
+let me charge you to guard it with exceeding care. It should be
+treated with reverence because it symbolizes our common country.
+Whoever regards it with indifference has no patriotic blood in his
+veins. Whoever lays wanton hands on it is a traitor to it. And whoever
+insults or defames it in any way, deserves, and will receive, the open
+scorn and lasting contempt of all his countrymen. Ladies and
+gentlemen, I have done."
+
+The colonel resumed his seat amid a roar of applause, and when it had
+subsided Miss Grey arose to introduce the respondent.
+
+"This beautiful flag," she said, "will now be accepted, on behalf of
+the school, in an address by one of our pupils: Master Alexander
+Sands."
+
+Aleck arose and made his way to the platform. The Riverbeds applauded
+him vigorously, and the guests mildly, as he went. He started out
+bravely enough on his speech.
+
+"Colonel Butler, teachers and guests: It gives me pleasure, on behalf
+of the Chestnut Hill public school, to accept this beautiful flag--"
+
+He made a sweeping gesture toward the right-hand corner of the
+platform, as he had done at rehearsals, only to discover that the flag
+had, at the last moment, been shifted to the left-hand corner, and he
+had, perforce, to turn and repeat his gesture in that direction. There
+was nothing particularly disconcerting about this, but it broke the
+continuity of his effort, it interfered with his memory, he halted,
+colored, and cudgeled his brains to find what came next. Back, in the
+rear of the room, where the Hilltops were gathered, there was an
+audible snicker; but Aleck was too busy to hear it, and Miss Grey,
+prepared for just such an emergency as this, glanced at a manuscript
+she had in her hand, and prompted him:
+
+"So graciously given to us--"
+
+Aleck caught the words and went on:
+
+"--so graciously given to us by our honored townsman and patriotic
+citizen, Colonel Richard Butler."
+
+Another pause. Again Miss Grey came to the rescue.
+
+"No words of mine--" she said.
+
+"No words of mine," repeated Aleck.
+
+"Sure, they're no words of yours," said some one in a stage-whisper,
+far down in the audience.
+
+Suspicion pointed to Elmer Cuddeback, but he stood there against the
+wall, with such an innocent, sober look on his round face, that people
+thought they must be mistaken. The words had not failed to reach to
+the platform, however, and Miss Grey, more troubled than before, again
+had recourse to her manuscript for the benefit of Aleck, who was
+floundering more deeply than ever in the bogs of memory.
+
+"--can properly express--"
+
+"--can properly express--"
+
+Another pause. Again the voice back by the wall:
+
+"Express broke down; take local."
+
+The situation was growing desperate. Miss Grey was almost at her wit's
+end. Then a bright idea struck her. She thrust the manuscript into
+Aleck's hand.
+
+"Oh, Aleck," she exclaimed, "take it and read it!"
+
+He grasped it like the proverbial drowning man, turned it upside down
+and right side up, but failed to find the place where he had left off.
+
+[Illustration: Aleck Turned it Upside Down and Rightside Up, But
+Failed to Find the Place]
+
+Again the insistent, high-pitched whisper from the rear, breaking
+distinctly into the embarrassing silence:
+
+"Can't read it, cause teacher wrote it."
+
+This was the last straw. Slow to wrath as he always was, Aleck had
+thus far kept his temper. But this charge filled him with sudden anger
+and resentment. He turned his eyes, blazing with fury, toward the boy
+by the rear wall, whom he knew was baiting him, and shouted:
+
+"That's a lie, Elmer Cuddeback, and you know it!"
+
+At once confusion reigned. People stood up and looked around to get a
+possible glimpse of the object of Aleck's denunciation. Some one
+cried: "Put him out!"
+
+Two or three members of the Riverbeds started threateningly toward
+Elmer, and his friends struggled to get closer to him. An excitable
+woman in the audience screamed. Miss Grey was pounding vigorously with
+her gavel, but to no effect. Then Colonel Butler himself took matters
+in hand. He rose to his feet, stretched out his arm, and shouted:
+
+"Order! Order! Resume your seats!"
+
+People sat down again. The belligerent boys halted in their tracks.
+Everyone felt that the colonel must be obeyed. He waited, in
+commanding attitude, until order had been restored, then he continued:
+
+"The young gentleman who undertook to respond to my address was
+stricken with what is commonly known as stage-fright. That is no
+discredit to him. It is a malady that attacked so great a man and so
+brave a warrior as General Grant. I may add that I, myself, have
+suffered from it on occasion. And now that order has been restored we
+will proceed with the regular program, and Master Sands will finish
+the delivery of his address."
+
+He stepped back to give the respondent the floor; but Master Sands was
+nowhere in sight. In the confusion he had disappeared. The colonel
+looked around him expectantly for a moment, and then again advanced to
+the front of the platform.
+
+"In the absence of our young friend," he said, "whose address, I am
+sure, would have been received with the approbation it deserves, I,
+myself, will occupy a portion of the time thus made vacant, in still
+further expounding to you--"
+
+But at this moment, notwithstanding his effort to avoid it, he again
+caught his daughter's warning look, and saw her forefinger held
+threateningly in the air.
+
+"I am reminded, however," he continued, "by one in the audience whose
+judgment I am bound to respect, that it is not appropriate for me to
+make both the speech of presentation and the address on behalf of the
+recipient. I will, therefore, conclude by thanking you for your
+attendance and your attention, and by again adjuring you to honor,
+protect and preserve this beautiful emblem of our national liberties."
+
+He had scarcely taken his seat amid the applause that his words always
+evoked, before Miss Grey was on her feet announcing the closing number
+of the program, the song "America," by the entire audience.
+
+Whether it was due to the excitement of the occasion, or, as the
+colonel afterward modestly suggested, to the spirit of patriotism
+aroused by his remarks, it is a fact that no one present had ever
+before heard the old song sung with more vim and feeling.
+
+The audience was dismissed.
+
+Colonel Butler's friends came forward to congratulate and thank him.
+The Hilltops, chuckling gleefully, with Elmer Cuddeback in their
+center, marched off up-town. The Riverbeds, downcast and revengeful,
+made their way down the hill. But Aleck Sands was not with them. He
+had already left the school-building and had gone home. He was angry
+and bitterly resentful. He felt that he could have faced any one, at
+any time, in open warfare, but to be humiliated and ridiculed in
+public, that was more than even his phlegmatic nature could stand. He
+could not forget it. He could not forgive those who had caused it.
+Days, weeks, years were not sufficient to blot entirely from his heart
+the feeling of revenge that entered it that winter afternoon.
+
+It was late on the same day that Colonel Butler stood with his back to
+the blazing wood-fire in the library, waiting for his supper to be
+served, and looking out into the hall on the folds of the handsome,
+silk, American flag draped against the wall. There had always been a
+flag in the hall. Colonel Butler's father had placed one there when he
+built the house and went to live in it. And when, later on, the
+colonel fell heir to the property, and rebuilt and modernized the
+home, he replaced the old flag of bunting with the present one of
+silk. Indeed, it was on account of the place and prominence given to
+the flag that the homestead had been known for many years as
+Bannerhall.
+
+Pen sat at the library table preparing his lessons for the following
+day.
+
+"Well, Penfield," said the colonel, "a--what did you think of my
+speech to-day?"
+
+"I thought it was great," replied Pen. "Pretty near as good as the one
+you delivered last Memorial Day."
+
+The colonel smiled with satisfaction. "Yes," he remarked, "I, myself,
+thought it was pretty good; or would have been if your aunt Millicent
+had permitted me to complete it. It was also unfortunate that your
+young friend was not able fully to carry out his part of the program."
+
+"You mean Aleck Sands?"
+
+"I believe that is the young gentleman's name."
+
+"He's not my friend, grandfather."
+
+"Tut! Tut! You should not harbor resentment because of his having
+outwitted you in the matter of procuring the flag. Especially in view
+of his discomfiture of to-day."
+
+"It wasn't my fault that he flunked."
+
+"I am not charging you with that responsibility, sir. I am simply
+appealing to your generosity. By the way, I understand--I have learned
+this afternoon, that there exists what may be termed a feud between
+the boys of Chestnut Hill and those of Chestnut Valley. Have I been
+correctly informed?"
+
+"Why, yes; I guess--I suppose you might call it that."
+
+"And I have been informed also that you are the leader of what are
+facetiously termed the 'Hilltops,' and that our young friend, Master
+Sands, is the leader of what are termed, still more facetiously, the
+'Riverbeds.' Is this true?"
+
+Pen closed his book and hesitated. He felt that a reproof was coming,
+to be followed, perhaps, by strict orders concerning his own
+neutrality.
+
+"Well," he stammered, "I--I guess that's about right. Anyway our
+fellows sort o' depend on me to help 'em hold their own."
+
+Pen was not looking at his grandfather. If he had been he would have
+seen a twinkle of satisfaction in the old gentleman's eyes. It was
+something for a veteran of the civil war to have a grandson who had
+been chosen to the leadership of his fellows for the purpose of
+engaging in juvenile hostilities. So there was no shadow of reproof in
+the colonel's voice as he asked his next question.
+
+"And what, may I inquire, is, or has been, the _casus belli_?"
+
+"The what, sir?"
+
+"The--a--cause or causes which have produced the present state of
+hostility."
+
+"Why, I don't know--nothing in particular, I guess--only they're all
+the time doing mean things, and boasting they can lick us if we give
+'em a chance; and I--I'm for giving 'em the chance."
+
+Reproof or no reproof, he had spoken his mind. He had risen from his
+chair, and stood before his grandfather with determination written in
+every line of his flushed face. Colonel Butler looked at him and
+chuckled.
+
+"Very good!" he said. He chuckled again and repeated: "Very good!"
+
+Pen stared at him in astonishment. He could not quite understand his
+attitude.
+
+"Now, Penfield," continued the old gentleman, "mind you, I do not
+approve of petty jealousies and quarrelings, nor of causeless
+assaults. But, when any person is assailed, it is his peculiar
+privilege, sir, to hit back. And when he hits he should hit hard. He
+should use both strategy and force. He should see to it, sir, that his
+enemy is punished. Have your two hostile bodies yet met in open
+conflict on the field?"
+
+"Why," replied Pen, still amazed at the course things were taking,
+"we've had one or two rather lively little scraps. But I suppose,
+after what happened to-day, they'll want to fight. If they do want to,
+we're ready for 'em."
+
+The colonel had left his place in front of the fire, and was pacing up
+and down the room.
+
+"Very good!" he exclaimed, "very good! Men and nations should always
+be prepared for conflict. To that end young men should learn the art
+of fighting, so that when the call to arms comes, as I foresee that it
+will come, the nation will be ready."
+
+He stopped in his walk and faced his grandson.
+
+"Not that I deprecate the arts of peace, Penfield. By no means! It is
+by those arts that nations have grown great. But, in my humble
+judgment, sir, as a citizen and a soldier, the only way to preserve
+peace, and to ensure greatness, is to be at all times ready for war.
+We must instil the martial spirit into our young men, we must rouse
+their fighting blood, we must teach them the art of war, so that if
+the flag is ever insulted or assailed they will be ready to protect it
+with their bodies and their blood. Learn to fight; to fight honorably,
+bravely, skillfully, and--to fight--hard."
+
+"Father Richard Butler!"
+
+It was Aunt Millicent who spoke. She had come on them from the hall
+unawares, and had overheard the final words of the colonel's
+adjuration.
+
+"Father Richard Butler," she repeated, "what heresy is this you are
+teaching to Pen?"
+
+He made a brave but hopeless effort to justify his course.
+
+"I am teaching him," he replied, "the duty that devolves upon every
+patriotic citizen."
+
+"Patriotic fiddlesticks!" she exclaimed. "I have no patience with such
+blood-thirsty doctrines. And, Pen, listen! If I ever hear of your
+fighting with anybody, at any time, you'll have your aunt Millicent to
+deal with, I promise you that. Now come to supper, both of you."
+
+It was not until nearly the close of the afternoon session on the
+following day that Miss Grey referred to the unfortunate incident of
+the day before. She expressed her keen regret, and her sense of
+humiliation, over the occurrence that had marred the program, and
+requested Elmer Cuddeback, Aleck Sands and Penfield Butler to remain
+after school that she might confer with them concerning some proper
+form of apology to Colonel Butler. But when she had the three boys
+alone with her, and referred to the shameful discourtesy with which
+the donor of the flag had been treated, tears came into her eyes, and
+her voice trembled to the point of breaking. No one could have helped
+feeling sorry for her; especially the three boys who were most
+concerned.
+
+"I don't think," said Pen, consolingly, "that grandfather minded it
+very much. He doesn't talk as if he did."
+
+"Let us hope," she replied, "that he was not too greatly shocked, or
+too deeply disgusted. Elmer, your conduct was wholly inexcusable, and
+I'm going to punish you. But, Pen, you and Aleck are the leaders, and
+I want this disgraceful feud between you up-town and down-town boys to
+stop. I want you both to promise me that this will be the end of it."
+
+She looked from one to the other appealingly, but, for a moment,
+neither boy replied. Then Aleck spoke up.
+
+"Our fellows," he said, "feel pretty sore over the way I was treated
+yesterday; and I don't believe they'd be willing to give up till they
+get even somehow."
+
+To which Pen responded:
+
+"They're welcome to try to get even if they want to. Were ready for
+'em."
+
+Miss Grey threw up her hands in despair.
+
+"Oh boys! boys!" she exclaimed. "Why will you be so foolish and
+obstinate? What kind of men do you suppose you'll make if you spend
+your school-days quarreling and fighting with each other?"
+
+"Well, I don't know," replied Pen. "My grandfather thinks it isn't
+such a bad idea for boys to try their mettle on each other, so long as
+they fight fair. He thinks they'll make better soldiers sometime. And
+he says the country is going to need soldiers after awhile."
+
+She looked up in surprise.
+
+"But I don't want my boys to become soldiers," she protested. "I don't
+want war. I don't believe in it. I hate it."
+
+She had reason to hate war, for her own father had been wounded at
+Chancellorsville, and she remembered her mother's long years of
+privation and sorrow. Again her lip trembled and her eyes filled with
+tears. There was an awkward pause; for each boy sympathized with her
+and would have been willing to help her had a way been opened that
+would not involve too much of sacrifice. Elmer Cuddeback, even in the
+face of his forthcoming punishment, was still the most tenderhearted
+of the three, and he struggled to her relief.
+
+"Can't--can't we make some sort o' compromise?" he suggested.
+
+But Pen, too, had been thinking, and an idea had occurred to him. And
+before any reply could be made to Elmer's suggestion he offered his
+own solution to the difficulty.
+
+"I'll tell you what I'll do, Miss Grey," he said, "and what I'll get
+our fellows to do. We'll have one, big snowball fight. And the side
+that gets licked 'll stay licked till school's out next spring. And
+there won't be any more scrapping all winter. We'll do that, won't we,
+Elmer?"
+
+"Sure we will," responded Elmer confidently.
+
+Aleck did not reply. Miss Grey thought deeply for a full minute.
+Perhaps, after all, Pen's proposition pointed to the best way out of
+the difficulty. Indeed, it was the only way along which there now
+seemed to be any light. She turned to Aleck.
+
+"Well," she asked, "what do you think of it?"
+
+"Why, I don't know," he replied. "I'd like to talk with some of our
+fellows about it first."
+
+He was always cautious, conservative, slow to act unless the emergency
+called for action.
+
+"No," replied Pen. "I won't wait. It's a fair offer, and you'll take
+it now or let it alone."
+
+"Then," said Aleck, doggedly, "I'll take it, and you'll be sorry you
+ever made it."
+
+Lest active hostilities should break out at once, Miss Grey
+interrupted:
+
+"Now, boys, I don't approve of it. I don't approve of it at all. I
+think young men like you should be in better business than pelting
+each other, even with snowballs. But, as it appears to be the only way
+out of the difficulty, and in the hope that it will put an end to this
+ridiculous feud, I'm willing that you should go ahead and try it. Do
+it and have it over with as soon as possible, and don't let me know
+when it's going to happen, or anything about it, until you're all
+through."
+
+It was with deep misgivings concerning the success of the plan that
+she dismissed the boys; and more than once during the next few days
+she was on the point of withdrawing her permission for the fight to
+take place. Many times afterwards she regretted keenly that she had
+not done so.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+When Pen told his grandfather that a snowball fight had been decided
+upon as the method of settling the controversy between the Hilltops
+and the Riverbeds, and that Miss Grey had given her permission to that
+effect, the old gentleman chuckled gleefully.
+
+"A very wise young woman," he said; "very wise indeed. When will the
+sanguinary conflict take place?"
+
+"Why," replied Pen, "the first day the snow melts good."
+
+"I see. I suppose you will lead the forces of Chestnut Hill?"
+
+"I expect to; yes, sir."
+
+"And our young friend, Master Sands, will marshal the troops of the
+Valley?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I suppose so."
+
+"You will have to look out for that young man, Penfield. He strikes me
+as being very much of a strategist."
+
+"I'm not afraid of him."
+
+"Don't be over-confident. Over-confidence has lost many a battle."
+
+"Well, we'll lick 'em anyway. We've got to."
+
+"That's the proper spirit. Determination, persistence, bravery,
+hard-fighting--Hush! Here comes your aunt Millicent."
+
+Colonel Butler was as bold as a lion in the presence of every one save
+his daughter. Against her determination his resolution melted like
+April snow. She loved him devotedly, she cared for him tenderly, but
+she ruled him with a rod of iron. In only one matter did his stubborn
+will hold out effectually against hers. No persuasion, no demand on
+her part, could induce him to change his attitude towards Pen's
+mother. He chose to consider his daughter-in-law absolutely and
+permanently outside of his family, and outside of his consideration,
+and there the matter had rested for a decade, and was likely to rest
+so long as he drew breath.
+
+That night, after Pen had retired to his room, there came a gentle
+knock at his open door. His grandfather stood there, holding in his
+hand a small volume of Upton's military tactics which he had used in
+the Civil War.
+
+"I thought this book might be of some service to you, Penfield," he
+explained. "It will give you a good idea of the proper methods to be
+used in handling large or small bodies of troops."
+
+"Thank you, grandfather," said Pen, taking the book. "I'll study it.
+I'm sure it'll help me."
+
+"Nevertheless," continued the colonel, "there must be courage and
+persistency as well as tactics, if battles are to be won. You
+understand?"
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+The old man turned away, but turned back again.
+
+"A--Penfield," he said, "when you are absent from your room will you
+kindly have the book in such a locality that your Aunt Millicent will
+not readily discover it?"
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+The winter weather at Chestnut Hill was not favorable for war. The
+mercury lingered in the neighborhood of zero day after day. Snow
+fell, drifted, settled; but did not melt. It was plain that ammunition
+could not be made of such material. So the battle was delayed. But the
+opposing forces nevertheless utilized the time. There were secret
+drills. There were open discussions. Plans of campaign were regularly
+adopted, and as regularly discarded. Yet both sides were constantly
+ready.
+
+A strange result of the situation was that there had not been better
+feeling between the factions for many months. Good-natured boasts
+there were, indeed. But of malice, meanness, open resentment, there
+was nothing. Every one was willing to waive opportunities for
+skirmishing, in anticipation of the one big battle.
+
+It was well along in February before the weather moderated. Then, one
+night, it grew warm. The next morning gray fog lay over all the
+snow-fields. Rivulets of water ran in the gutters, and little pools
+formed in low places everywhere. War time had at last come. Evidently
+nature intended this to be the battle day. It was Saturday and there
+was no session of the school.
+
+The commander of the Hilltops called his forces together early, and a
+plan of battle was definitely formed. Messengers, carrying a flag of
+truce, communicated with the Riverbeds, and it was agreed that the
+fight should take place that afternoon on the vacant plot in the rear
+of the school building. It was thought best by the Hilltops, however,
+to reconnoiter in force, and to prepare the field for the conflict.
+So, sixteen strong, they went forth to the place selected for the
+fray. They saw nothing of the enemy; the lot was still vacant. They
+began immediately to throw up breast-works. They rolled huge snowballs
+down the slightly sloping ground to the spot selected for a fort.
+These snowballs were so big that, by the time they reached their
+destination, it took at least a half dozen boys to put each one into
+place. They squared them up, and laid them carefully in a curved line
+ten blocks long and three blocks high, with the requisite embrasures.
+Then they prepared their ammunition. They made snowballs by the
+score, and piled them in convenient heaps inside the barricade. By the
+time this work was finished it was noon. Then, leaving a sufficient
+force to guard the fortifications, the remainder of the troops sallied
+forth to luncheon, among them the leader of the Hilltops. At the
+luncheon table Pen took advantage of the temporary absence of his aunt
+to inform his grandfather, in a stage-whisper, that the long
+anticipated fight was scheduled for that afternoon.
+
+"And," he added, "we've got the biggest snow fort you ever saw, and
+dead loads of snowballs inside."
+
+The colonel smiled and his eyes twinkled.
+
+"Good!" he whispered back. "Smite them hip and thigh. Hold the fort!
+'Stand: the ground's your own, my braves!'"
+
+"We're ready for anything."
+
+"Bravo! Beware of the enemy's strategy, and fight hard. Fight as
+if--ah! your Aunt Millicent's coming."
+
+At one o'clock the first division returned and relieved the garrison;
+and at two every soldier was back and in his place. The breast-works
+were strengthened, more ammunition was made, and heaps of raw material
+for making still more were conveniently placed. But the enemy did not
+put in an appearance. A half hour went by, and another half hour, and
+the head of the first hostile soldier was yet to be seen approaching
+above the crest of the hill. Crowds of small boys, non-combatants,
+were lined up against the school-house, awaiting, with anxiety and
+awe, the coming battle. Out in the road a group of girls, partisans of
+the Hilltops, was assembled to cheer their friends on to victory. Men,
+passing by on foot and with teams, stopped to inquire concerning the
+war-like preparations, and some of them, on whose hands it may be that
+time was hanging heavily, stood around awaiting the outbreak of
+hostilities.
+
+Still the enemy was nowhere in sight. A squad, under command of
+Lieutenant Cuddeback, was sent out to the road to reconnoiter. They
+returned and reported that they had been to the brow of the hill, but
+had failed to discover any hostile troops. Was it possible that the
+Riverbeds had weakened, backed out, decided, like the cowards that
+they were, not to fight, after all? It was in the midst of an animated
+discussion over this possibility that the defenders of the fort were
+startled by piercing yells from the neighborhood of the stone fence
+that bounded the school-house lot in the rear. Looking in that
+direction they were thunderstruck to see the enemy's soldiers pouring
+over the wall and advancing vigorously toward them. With rare strategy
+the Riverbeds, instead of approaching by the front, had come up the
+hill on the back road, crept along under cover of barns and fences
+until the school-house lot was reached, and now, with terrific shouts,
+were crossing the stone-wall to hurl themselves impetuously on the
+foe.
+
+For a moment consternation reigned within the fort. The surprise was
+overwhelming. Pen was the first one, as he should have been, to
+recover his wits. He remembered his grandfather's warning against the
+enemy's strategy.
+
+"It's a trick!" he shouted. "Don't let 'em scare you! Load up and at
+'em!"
+
+Every boy seized his complement of snowballs, and, led by their
+captain, the Hilltops started out, on double-quick, to meet the enemy.
+
+The next moment the air was filled with flying missiles. They were
+fired at close range, and few, from either side, failed to find their
+mark.
+
+The battle was swift and fierce. An onslaught from the Riverbeds'
+left, drove the right wing of the Hilltops back into the shadow of the
+fort. But the center held its ground and fought furiously. Then the
+broken right wing, supplied with fresh ammunition from the reserve
+piles, rallied, forced the invaders back, turned their flank, and fell
+on them from the rear. The Riverbeds, with ammunition all but
+exhausted, were hard beset. They fought bravely and persistently but
+they could not stand up before the terrific rain of missiles that was
+poured in on them. They yielded, they retreated, but they went with
+their faces to the foe. There was only one avenue of escape, and that
+was down by the side of the school-house to the public road. It was
+inch by inch that they withdrew. No army ever beat a more stubborn or
+masterly retreat. In the face of certain defeat, at scarcely arm's
+length from their shouting and exultant foe, they fought like heroes.
+
+Pen Butler was in the thickest and hottest of the fray. He urged his
+troops to the assault, and was not afraid to lead them. The militant
+blood of his ancestors burned in his veins, and, if truth must be
+told, it trickled in little streams down his face from a battered nose
+and a cut lip received at a close quarter's struggle with the enemy.
+
+The small boys by the school-house, seeing the line of battle
+approaching them, beat a retreat to a less hazardous position. The
+girls in the road clung to each other and looked on, fascinated and
+awe-stricken at the furious fight, forgetting to wave a single
+handkerchief, or emit a single cheer. The men on the side-path clapped
+their hands and yelled encouragement to one or other of the contending
+forces, in accordance with their sympathies.
+
+The first of the retreating troops, still contesting stubbornly the
+foe's advance, reached the corner of the school-house nearest the
+public road. By some chance the entrance door of the building was
+ajar. A soldier's quick eye discovered it. Here was shelter,
+protection, a chance to recuperate and reform. He shouted the good
+news to his comrades, pushed the door open and entered. By twos and
+threes, and then in larger groups, they followed him until the very
+last man of them was safe inside, and the door was slammed shut and
+locked in the faces of the foe. Under the impetus of the charge the
+victorious troops broke against the barrier, but it held firm. That it
+did so hold was one of the providential occurrences of the day. So, at
+last, the Hilltops were foiled and baffled. Their victory was not
+complete. Pen stood on the top step at the entrance, his face smeared
+with blood, and angrily declared his determination, by one means or
+another, to hunt the enemy out from their place of shelter, and drive
+them down the hill into their own riverbed, where they belonged. But,
+in spite of his extravagant declaration, nothing could be done without
+a breach of the law. Doors and windows must not be broken.
+Temporarily, at least, the enemy was safe.
+
+After a consultation among the Hilltops it was decided to take up a
+position across the road from the school-house, and await the
+emergence of the foe. But the foe appeared to be in no haste to
+emerge. It was warm inside. They were safe from attack. They could
+take their ease and wait. And they did. The minutes passed. A half
+hour went by. A drizzling rain had set in, and the young soldiers at
+the roadside were getting uncomfortably wet. The small boys, who had
+looked on, departed by twos and threes. The girls, after cheering the
+heroes of the fight, also sought shelter. The men, who had been
+interested spectators while the battle was on, drifted away. It isn't
+encouraging to stand out in the rain, doing nothing but stamping wet
+feet, and wait for a beaten foe to come out. Enthusiasm for a cause is
+apt to wane when one has to stand, shivering, in rain-soaked clothes,
+and wait for something to occur. And enthusiasm did wane. A majority
+of the boys wanted to call it a victory and go home. But Pen would not
+listen to such a proposal.
+
+"They've run into the school-house," he said, "like whipped dogs, and
+locked the door; and now, if we go home, they'll come out and boast
+that we were afraid to meet 'em again. They'll say that we slunk away
+before the fight was half over. I won't let 'em say that. I'll stay
+here all night but what I'll give 'em the final drubbing."
+
+But his comrades were not equally determined. The war spirit seemed to
+have died out in their breasts, and, try as he would, Pen was not able
+to restore it.
+
+Yet, even as he argued, the school-house door opened and the besieged
+army marched forth. They marched forth, indeed, but this time they had
+an American flag at the head of their column. It was carried by, and
+folded and draped around the body of, Alexander Sands. It was the flag
+that Colonel Butler had given to the school. Whose idea it was to use
+it thus has never been disclosed. But surely no more effective means
+could have been adopted to cover an orderly retreat. The Hilltop
+forces stared at the spectacle in amazement and stood silent in their
+tracks. Pen was the first to recover his senses. If he had been angry
+when the enemy came upon them unawares from the stone-wall, he was
+furious now.
+
+"It's another trick!" he cried, "a mean, contemptible trick! They
+think the flag'll save 'em but it won't! Come on! We'll show 'em!"
+
+He started toward the advancing column, firing his first snowball as
+he went; a snowball that flattened and spattered against the
+flag-covered breast of Aleck Sands. But his soldiers did not follow
+him. No leader, however magnetic, could have induced them to assault a
+body of troops marching under the protecting folds of the American
+flag. They revered the colors, and they stood fast in their places.
+Pen leaped the ditch, and, finding himself alone, stopped to look
+back.
+
+"What's the matter?" he cried. "Are you all afraid?"
+
+"It's the flag," answered Elmer Cuddeback, "and I won't fight anybody
+that carries it."
+
+"Nor I," said Jimmie Morrissey.
+
+"Nor I;" "Nor I," echoed one after another.
+
+Then, indeed, Pen's temper went to fever heat. He faced his own troops
+and denounced them.
+
+"Traitors!" he yelled. "Cowards! every one of you! To be scared by a
+mere piece of bunting! Babies! Go home and have your mothers put you
+to bed! I'll fight 'em single-handed!"
+
+He was as good as his word. He plunged toward the head of the column,
+which had already reached the middle of the public road.
+
+"Don't you dare to touch the flag!" cried Aleck.
+
+"And don't you dare to tell me what I shall not touch," retorted Pen.
+"Drop it, or I'll tear it off of you."
+
+But Aleck only drew the folds more tightly about him and braced
+himself for the onset. He clutched the staff with one hand; and the
+other hand, duly clenched, he thrust into his adversary's face. For a
+moment Pen was staggered by the blow, then he gathered himself
+together and leaped upon his opponent. The fight was on: fast and
+furious. The followers of each leader, appalled at the fierceness of
+the combat, stood as though frozen in their places. The flag, clutched
+by both fighters, was in danger of being torn from end to end. Then
+came the clinch. Gripping, writhing, twisting, tangled in the colors,
+the lithe young bodies wavered to their fall. And when they fell the
+flag fell with them, into the grime and slush of the road. In an
+instant Pen was on his feet again, but Aleck did not rise. He pulled
+himself slowly to his elbow and looked around him as though
+half-dazed.
+
+That Pen was the victor there was no doubt. His face streaked with
+blood and distorted with passion, he stood there and glared
+triumphantly on friend and foe alike. That he was standing on the flag
+mattered little to him in that moment. He was like one crazed. Some
+one shouted to him:
+
+"Get off the flag! You're standing on it!"
+
+"What's that to you?" he yelled back. "I'll stand where I like!"
+
+"It's the flag of your country. Get off of it!"
+
+"What do I care for my country or for you. I've won this fight,
+single-handed, in spite of any flag, or any country, or any coward
+here, and I'll stand where I choose!"
+
+He stood fast in his place and glared defiantly about him, and in all
+the company there was not one who dared approach him.
+
+But it was only for a moment. Some impulse moved him to look down.
+Under his heels the white stars on their blue field were being ground
+into the mire. A sudden revulsion of feeling swept over him, a sense
+of horror at his own conduct. His arms fell to his sides. His face
+paled till the blood splashes on it stood out startlingly distinct. He
+moved slowly and carefully backward till the folds of the banner were
+no longer under his feet. He cast one fleeting glance at his worsted
+adversary who was still half-lying, half-sitting, with the flag under
+his elbows, then, his passion quenched, shame and remorse over his
+unpatriotic conduct filling his heart, without another word he turned
+his back on his companions, thrust his bleeding hands into his
+pockets, and started up the road, toward home; his one thought being
+to leave as quickly and quietly as possible the scene of his disgrace.
+No one followed him, no one called after him; he went alone. He was
+hatless and ragged. His rain-soaked garments clung to him with an
+indescribable chill. The fire of his anger had burned itself out, and
+had left in its place the ashes of despondency and despair. Yet, even
+in that hour of depression and self-accusation, he did not dream of
+the far-reaching consequences of this one unpremeditated act of
+inexcusable folly of which he had just been guilty. He bent down and
+gathered some wet snow into his hands and bathed his face, and sopped
+it half dry with his handkerchief, already soaked. Then, not caring,
+in his condition, to show himself on the main street of the village,
+he crossed over to the lane that skirted the out-lots, and went thence
+by a circuitous and little traveled route, to Bannerhall.
+
+In the meantime, back in the road by the school-house, Aleck Sands had
+picked himself up, still a little dazed, but not seriously hurt, and
+soldiers who had recently faced each other in battle came with
+unanimity to the rescue of the flag. Hilltops and Riverbeds alike, all
+differences and enmities forgotten in this new crisis, they joined in
+gathering up the wet and muddy folds, and in bearing them to the
+warmth and shelter of the school-house. Here they washed out the
+stains, and stretched the banner out to dry, and at dusk, exhausted
+and sobered by the events of the day, with serious faces and
+apprehensive hearts, they went to their several homes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+When Pen reached home on that afternoon after the battle of Chestnut
+Hill, he found that his Aunt Millicent was out, and that his
+grandfather had not yet returned from Lowbridge, the county seat,
+fourteen miles away. He had therefore an opportunity, unseen and
+unquestioned, to change his wet clothing for dry, and to bathe and
+anoint and otherwise care for his cuts and bruises. When it was all
+done he went down to the library and lighted the gas, and found a book
+and tried to read. But the words he read were meaningless. Try as he
+would he could not keep his mind on the printed page. Nor was it so
+much the snowball fight that occupied his thoughts. He was not now
+exulting at any victory he had obtained over his foes. He was not even
+dwelling on the strategy and trickery displayed by Aleck Sands and his
+followers in seeking protection under the folds of the flag; strategy
+and trickery which had led so swiftly and sharply to his own undoing.
+It was his conduct in that last, fierce moment of the fight that was
+blazoned constantly before his eyes with ever increasing strength of
+accusation. To think that he, Penfield Butler, grandson of the owner
+of Bannerhall, had permitted himself, in a moment of passion, no
+matter what the provocation, to grind his country's flag into the
+slush under his heels; the very flag given by his grandfather to the
+school of which he was himself a member. How should he ever square
+himself with Colonel Richard Butler? How should he ever make it right
+with Miss Grey? How should he ever satisfy his own accusing
+conscience? Excuses for his conduct were plenty enough indeed; his
+excitement, his provocation, his freedom from malice; he marshalled
+them in orderly array; but, under the cold logic of events, one by one
+they crumbled and fell away. More and more heavily, more and more
+depressingly the enormity of his offense weighed upon him as he
+considered it, and what the outcome of it all would be he did not even
+dare to conjecture.
+
+At half past five his Aunt Millicent returned. She looked in at him
+from the hall, greeted him pleasantly, said something about the
+miserable weather, and then went on about her household duties.
+
+Dinner had been waiting for fifteen minutes before Colonel Butler
+reached home, and, in the mild excitement attendant upon his return,
+Pen's injuries escaped notice. But, at the dinner-table, under the
+brightness of the hanging lamps, he could no longer conceal his
+condition. Aunt Millicent was the first to discover it.
+
+"Why, Pen!" she exclaimed, "what on earth has happened to you?"
+
+And Pen answered, frankly enough:
+
+"I've been in a snowball fight, Aunt Milly."
+
+"Well, I should say so!" she replied. "Your face is a perfect sight.
+Father, just look at Pen's face."
+
+Colonel Butler adjusted his eye-glasses deliberately, and looked as he
+was bidden to do.
+
+"Some rather severe contusions," he remarked. "A bit painful,
+Penfield?"
+
+"Not so very," replied Pen, "I washed 'em off and put on some Pond's
+extract, and some court-plaster, and I guess they'll be all right."
+
+The colonel was still looking at Pen's wounds, and smiling as he
+looked.
+
+"The nature of the injuries," he said, "indicates that the fighting
+must have been somewhat strenuous. But honorable scars, won on the
+field of battle, are something in which any man may take pardonable--"
+
+"Father Richard Butler!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "Aren't you ashamed
+of yourself! Pen, let this be the last snowball fight you indulge in
+while you live in this house. Do you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Millicent. There won't be any more; not any more at all."
+
+"I should hope not," she replied; "with such a looking face as you've
+got."
+
+Colonel Butler was temporarily subdued. Only the merry twinkle in his
+eyes, and the smile that hovered about the corners of his mouth, still
+attested the satisfaction he was feeling in his grandson's military
+prowess. He could not, however, restrain his curiosity until the end
+of the meal, and, at the risk of evoking another rebuke from his
+daughter, he inquired of Pen:
+
+"A--Penfield, may I ask in which direction the tide of battle finally
+turned?"
+
+"I believe we licked 'em, grandfather," replied Pen. "We drove 'em
+into the school-house anyway."
+
+"Not, I presume, before some severe preliminary fighting had taken
+place?"
+
+"There you go again, father!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "It's nothing
+but 'fighting, fighting,' from morning to night. What kind of a man do
+you think Pen will grow up to be, with such training as this?"
+
+"A very useful, brave and patriotic citizen, I hope, my dear."
+
+"Fiddlesticks!" It was Aunt Millicent's favorite ejaculation. But the
+colonel did not refer to the battle again at the table. It was not
+until after he had retired to the library, and had taken up his
+favorite position, his back to the fire, his eyes resting on the
+silken banner in the hall, that he plied Pen with further questions.
+His daughter not being in the room he felt that he might safely resume
+the subject of the fight.
+
+"I would like a full report of the battle, Penfield," he said. "It
+appears to me that it is likely to go down as a most important event
+in the history of the school."
+
+Pen shook his head deprecatingly, but he did not at once reply.
+Impatient at the delay, which he ascribed to the modesty
+characteristic of the brave and successful soldier, the colonel began
+to make more definite inquiry.
+
+"In what manner was the engagement opened, Penfield?"
+
+And Pen replied:
+
+"Well, you know we built a snow fort in the school-house lot; and they
+sneaked up the back road, and cut across lots where we couldn't see
+'em, and jumped on us suddenly from the stone-wall."
+
+"Strategy, my boy. Military strategy deserving of a good cause. And
+how did you meet the attack?"
+
+"Why, we pulled ourselves together and went for 'em."
+
+"Well? Well? What happened?"
+
+The colonel was getting excited and impatient.
+
+"Well, we fought 'em and drove 'em down to the front of the
+school-house, and then they opened the door and sneaked in, just as I
+told you, and locked us out."
+
+"Ah! more strategy. The enemy had brains. But you should have laid
+siege and starved him out."
+
+"We did lay siege, grandfather."
+
+"And did you starve him out?"
+
+"No, they came out."
+
+"And you renewed the attack?"
+
+"Some of us did."
+
+"Well, go on! go on! What happened? Don't compel me to drag the story
+out of you piecemeal, this way."
+
+"Why, they--they played us another mean trick."
+
+"What was the nature of it?"
+
+"Well--you know that flag you gave the school?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"They carried that flag ahead of 'em, Aleck Sands had it wrapped
+around him, and then--our fellows were afraid to fight."
+
+"Strategy again. Military genius, indeed! But it strikes me, Penfield,
+that the strategy was a bit unworthy."
+
+"I thought it was a low-down trick."
+
+"Well--a--let us say that it was not the act of a brave and generous
+foe. The flag--the flag, Penfield, should be used for purposes of
+inspiration rather than protection. However, the enemy, having placed
+himself under the auspices and protection of the flag which should, in
+any event, be unassailable, I presume he marched away in safety and
+security?"
+
+"Why, no--not exactly."
+
+"Penfield, I trust that no one had the hardihood to assault the bearer
+of his country's flag?"
+
+"Grandfather, I couldn't help it. He made me mad."
+
+"Don't tell me, sir, that you so far forgot yourself as to lead an
+attack on the colors?"
+
+"No, I didn't. I pitched into him alone. I had to lick him, flag or no
+flag."
+
+"Penfield, I'm astounded! I wouldn't have thought it of you. And what
+happened, sir?"
+
+"Why, we clinched and went down."
+
+"But, the flag? the flag?"
+
+"That went down too."
+
+Colonel Butler left his place at the fire-side and crossed over to the
+table where Pen sat, in order that he might look directly down on him.
+
+"Am I to understand," he said, "that the colors of my country have
+been wantonly trailed in the mire of the street?"
+
+Under the intensity of that look, and the trembling severity of that
+voice, Pen wilted and shrank into the depths of his cushioned chair.
+He could only gasp:
+
+"I'm afraid so, grandfather."
+
+After that, for a full minute, there was silence in the room. When the
+colonel again spoke his voice was low and tremulous. It was evident
+that his patriotic nature had been deeply stirred.
+
+"In what manner," he asked, "was the flag rescued and restored to its
+proper place?"
+
+And Pen answered truthfully:
+
+"I don't know. I came away."
+
+The boy was still sunk deep in his chair, his hands were desperately
+clutching the arms of it, and on his pale face the wounds and bruises
+stood out startlingly distinct.
+
+In the colonel's breast grief and indignation were rapidly giving way
+to wrath.
+
+"And so," he added, his voice rising with every word, "you added
+insult to injury; and having forced the nation's banner to the earth,
+you deliberately turned your back on it and came away?"
+
+Pen did not answer. He could not.
+
+"I say," repeated the colonel, "you deliberately turned your back on
+it, and came away?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Colonel Butler crossed back to the fire-place, and then he strode into
+the hall. He put on his hat and was struggling into his overcoat when
+his daughter came in from the dining-room and discovered him.
+
+"Why, father!" she exclaimed, "where are you going?"
+
+"I am going," he replied, "to perform a patriotic duty."
+
+"Oh, don't go out again to-night," she pleaded. "You've had a hard
+trip to-day, and you're tired. Let Pen do your errand. Pen, come
+here!"
+
+The boy came at her bidding. The colonel paused to consider.
+
+"On second thought," he said, finally, "it may be better that I should
+not go in person. Penfield, you will go at once, wherever it may be
+necessary, and inquire as to the present condition and location of the
+American flag belonging to the Chestnut Hill school, and return and
+report to me."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Pen put on his hat and coat, took his umbrella, and went out into the
+rain. Six blocks away he stopped at Elmer Cuddeback's door and rang
+the bell. Elmer himself came in answer to the ring.
+
+"Come out on the porch a minute," said Pen. "I want to speak to you."
+
+Elmer came out and closed the door behind him.
+
+"Tell me," continued Pen, "what became of the flag this afternoon,
+after I left."
+
+"Oh, we picked it up and carried it into the school-house. Why?"
+
+"My grandfather wants to know."
+
+"Well, you can tell him it isn't hurt much. It got tore a little bit
+in one corner; and it had some dirt on it. But we cleaned her up, and
+dried her out, and put her back in her place."
+
+"Thank you for doing it."
+
+"Oh, that's all right. But, say, Pen, I'm sorry for you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"On account of what happened."
+
+"Did I hurt Aleck much?"
+
+A sudden fear of worse things had entered Pen's mind.
+
+"No, not much. He limped home by himself."
+
+"Then, what is it?"
+
+Pen knew, well enough, what it was; but he could not do otherwise than
+ask.
+
+"Why, it's because of what you did to the flag. Everybody's talking
+about it."
+
+"Let 'em talk. I don't care."
+
+But he did care, nevertheless. He went back home in a fever of
+apprehension and anxiety. Suppose his grandfather should learn the
+whole truth, as, sooner or later he surely would. What then? Pen
+decided that it would be better to tell him now.
+
+At eight o'clock, when he returned home, he found Colonel Butler still
+seated in the library, busy with a book. He removed his cap and coat
+in the hall, and went in. The colonel looked up inquiringly.
+
+"The flag," reported Pen, "was picked up by the boys, and carried back
+to the school-house. It was cleaned and dried, and put in its proper
+place."
+
+"Thank you, sir; that is all."
+
+The colonel turned his attention again to his book.
+
+Pen stood, for a moment, irresolute, before proceeding with his
+confession. Then he began:
+
+"Grandfather, I'm very sorry for what occurred, and especially--"
+
+"I do not care to hear any more to-night. Further apologies may be
+deferred to a more appropriate time."
+
+Again the colonel resumed his reading.
+
+The next day was Sunday; but, on account of the unattractive
+appearance of his face, Pen was excused from attending either church
+or Sunday-school. Monday was Washington's birthday, and a holiday, and
+there was no school. So that Pen had two whole days in which to
+recover from his wounds. But he did not so easily recover from his
+depression. Nothing more had been said by Colonel Butler about the
+battle, and Pen, on his part, did not dare again to broach the
+subject. Yet every hour that went by was filled with apprehension, and
+punctuated with false alarms. It was evident that the colonel had not
+yet heard the full story, and it was just as evident that the portion
+of it that he had heard had disturbed him almost beyond precedent. He
+was taciturn in speech, and severe and formal in manner. To misuse and
+neglect the flag of his country was, indeed, no venial offense in his
+eyes.
+
+Pen had not been out all day Monday, save to go on one or two
+unimportant errands for his aunt. Why he had not cared to go out was
+not quite clear, even to himself. Ordinarily he would have sought his
+schoolfellows, and would have exhibited his wounds, these silent and
+substantial witnesses of his personal prowess, with "pardonable
+pride." Nor did his schoolfellows come to seek him. That was strange
+too. Why had they not dropped in, as was their custom, to talk over
+the battle? It was almost dark of the second day, and not a single boy
+had been to see him or inquire for him. It was more than strange; it
+was ominous.
+
+After the evening meal Colonel Butler went out; a somewhat unusual
+occurrence, as, in his later years, he had become increasingly fond of
+his books and papers, his wood-fire and his easy chair. But, on this
+particular evening, there was to be a meeting of a certain patriotic
+society of which he was an enthusiastic member, and he felt that he
+must attend it. After he had gone Pen tried to study, but he could not
+keep his thought on his work. Then he took up a stirring piece of
+fiction and began to read: but the most exciting scenes depicted in it
+floated hazily across his mind. His Aunt Millicent tried to engage him
+in conversation, but he either could not or did not wish to talk. At
+nine o'clock he said good-night to his aunt, and retired to his room.
+At half past nine Colonel Butler returned home. His daughter went into
+the hall and greeted him and helped him off with his coat, but he
+scarcely spoke to her. When he came in under the brighter lights of
+the library, she saw that his face was haggard, his jaws set, and his
+eyes strangely bright.
+
+"What is it, father?" she said. "Something has happened."
+
+He did not reply to her question, but he asked:
+
+"Has Penfield retired?"
+
+"He went to his room a good half hour ago, father."
+
+"I desire to see him."
+
+"He may have gone to bed."
+
+"I desire to see him under any circumstances. You will please
+communicate my wish to him."
+
+"But, father--"
+
+"Did you hear me, daughter?"
+
+"Father! What terrible thing has happened?"
+
+"A thing so terrible that I desire confirmation of it from Penfield's
+lips before I shall fully believe it. You will please call him."
+
+She could not disobey that command. She went tremblingly up the stairs
+and returned in a minute or two to say:
+
+"Pen had not yet gone to bed, father. He will be down as soon as he
+puts on his coat and shoes."
+
+"Very well."
+
+Colonel Butler seated himself in his accustomed chair and awaited the
+advent of his grandson.
+
+When Pen entered the library a few minutes later, his Aunt Millicent
+was still in the room.
+
+"Millicent," said the colonel, "will you be good enough to retire for
+a time? I wish to speak to Penfield alone."
+
+She rose and started toward the hall, but turned back again.
+
+"Father," she said, "if Pen is to be reprimanded for anything he has
+done, I wish to know about it."
+
+"This is a matter," replied the colonel, severely, "that can be
+adjusted only between Penfield and me."
+
+She saw that he was determined, and left the room.
+
+When the rustle attendant upon her ascent of the staircase had died
+completely out, the colonel turned toward Pen. He spoke quietly
+enough, but with an emotion that was plainly suppressed.
+
+"Penfield, you may stand where you are and answer certain questions
+that I shall ask you."
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+"While in attendance this evening, upon a meeting of gentlemen
+gathered for a patriotic purpose, I was told that you, Penfield
+Butler, had, on Saturday last, on the school-house grounds, trodden
+deliberately on the American flag lying in the slush of the street. Is
+the story true, sir?"
+
+"Well, grandfather, it was this way. I was--"
+
+"I desire, sir, a categorical reply. Did you, or did you not, stand
+upon the American flag?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I believe I did."
+
+"I am also credibly informed that you spoke disdainfully of this
+particular American flag as a mere piece of bunting? Did you use
+those words?"
+
+"I don't know what I said, grandfather."
+
+"Is it possible that you could have spoken thus disrespectfully of
+your country's flag?"
+
+"It is possible; yes, sir."
+
+"I am further informed that, on the same occasion, in language of
+which I have no credible report, you expressed your contempt for your
+country herself. Is my information correct?"
+
+"I may have done so."
+
+Pen felt himself growing weak and unsteady under this fire of
+questions, and he moved forward a little and grasped the back of a
+chair for support. The colonel, paying no heed to the boy's pitiable
+condition, went on with his examination.
+
+"Now, then, sir," he said, "if you have any explanation to offer you
+may give it."
+
+"Well, grandfather, I was very angry at the use they'd put the flag
+to, and I--well, I didn't just know what I was doing."
+
+Pen's voice had died away almost to a whisper.
+
+"And that," said the colonel, "is your only excuse?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Except that I didn't mean it; not any of it."
+
+"Of course you didn't mean it. If you had meant it, it would have been
+a crime instead of a gross offense. But the fact remains that, in the
+heat of passion, without forethought, without regard to your patriotic
+ancestry, you have wantonly defamed your country and heaped insults on
+her flag."
+
+Pen tried to speak, but he could not. He clung to the back of his
+chair and stood mute while the colonel went on:
+
+"My paternal grandfather, sir, fought valiantly in the army of General
+Putnam in the Revolutionary war, and my maternal grandfather was an
+aide to General Washington. My father helped to storm the heights of
+Chapultepec in 1847 under that invincible commander, General Worth. I,
+myself, shared the vicissitudes of the Army of the Potomac, through
+three years of the civil war. And now it has come to this, that my
+grandson has trodden under his feet the flag for which his gallant
+ancestors fought, and has defamed the country for which they shed
+their blood."
+
+The colonel's voice had risen as he went on, until now, vibrant with
+emotion, it echoed through the room. He rose from his chair and began
+pacing up and down the library floor.
+
+Still Pen stood mute. Even if he had had the voice to speak there was
+nothing more that he could say. It seemed to him that it was hours
+that his grandfather paced the floor, and it was a relief to have him
+stop and speak again, no matter what he should say.
+
+"I have decided," said the colonel, "that you shall apologize for your
+offense. It is the least reparation that can be made. Your apology
+will be in public, at your school, and will be directed to your
+teacher, to your country, to your flag, and to Master Sands who was
+bearing the colors at the time of the assault."
+
+Before his teacher, his country and his flag, Pen would have been
+willing to humble himself into the dust. But, to apologize to Aleck
+Sands!
+
+Colonel Butler did not wait for a reply, but sat down at his desk and
+arranged his materials for writing.
+
+"I shall communicate my purpose to Miss Grey," he said, "in a letter
+which you will take to her to-morrow."
+
+Then, for the first time in many minutes, Pen found his voice.
+
+"Grandfather, I shall be glad to apologize to Miss Grey, and to my
+country, and to the flag, but is it necessary for me to apologize to
+Aleck Sands?"
+
+Colonel Butler swung around in his swivel-chair, and faced the boy
+almost savagely:
+
+"Do you presume, sir," he exclaimed, "to dictate the conditions of
+your pardon? I have fixed the terms. They shall be complied with to
+the letter--to the letter, sir. And if you refuse to abide by them you
+will be required to withdraw to the home of your maternal grandfather,
+where, I have no doubt, your conduct will be disregarded if not
+approved. But I will not harbor, under the roof of Bannerhall, a
+person who has been guilty of such disloyalty as yours, and who
+declines to apologize for his offense."
+
+Having delivered himself of this ultimatum, the colonel again turned
+to his writing-desk and proceeded to prepare his letter to Miss Grey.
+Apparently it did not occur to him that his demand, thus definitely
+made, might still be refused.
+
+After what seemed to Pen to be an interminable time, his grandfather
+ceased writing, laid aside his pen, and turned toward him holding a
+written sheet from which he read:
+
+    "Bannerhall, Chestnut Hill, Pa.
+                       February 22.
+
+    "_My dear Miss Grey:_
+
+    "It is with the deepest regret that I have to advise you that my
+    grandson, Penfield Butler, on Saturday last, by his own
+    confession, dishonored the colors belonging to your school, and
+    made certain derogatory remarks concerning his country and his
+    flag, for which offenses he desires now to make reparation. Will
+    you therefore kindly permit him, at the first possible
+    opportunity, to apologize for his reprehensible conduct, publicly,
+    to his teacher, to his country and to his flag, and especially to
+    Master Alexander Sands, the bearer of the flag, who, though not
+    without fault in the matter, was, nevertheless, at the time,
+    under the protection of the colors.
+
+    "Master Butler will report to me the fulfillment of this request.
+    With personal regards and apologies, I remain,
+
+      "Your obedient servant,
+        "Richard Butler."
+
+He folded the letter, placed it in an envelope, and handed it to Pen.
+
+"You will deliver this to Miss Grey," he said, "on your arrival at
+school to-morrow morning. That is all to-night. You may retire."
+
+Pen took the letter, thanked his grandfather, bade him good-night,
+turned and went out into the hall, and up-stairs to his room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+It is little wonder that Pen passed a sleepless night, after the
+interview with his grandfather. He realized now, perhaps better than
+any one else, the seriousness of his offense. Knowing, so well as he
+did, Colonel Butler's reverence for all things patriotic, he did not
+wonder that he should be so deeply indignant. Pen, himself, felt that
+the least he could do, under the circumstances, was to publicly
+apologize for his conduct, bitter and humiliating as it would be to
+make such an apology. And he was willing to apologize to any one, to
+anything--save Alexander Sands. To this point of reparation he could
+not bring himself. This was the problem with which he struggled
+through the night hours. It was not a question, he told himself, over
+and over again, of whether he should leave Bannerhall, with its ease
+and luxury and choice traditions, and go to live on the little farm at
+Cobb's Corners. It was a question of whether he was willing to yield
+his self-respect and manhood to the point of humbling himself before
+Alexander Sands. It was not until he heard the clock in the hall
+strike three that he reached his decision.
+
+And his decision was, to comply, in full, with his grandfather's
+demand--and remain at Bannerhall.
+
+At the breakfast table the next morning Colonel Butler was still
+reticent and taciturn. He had passed an uncomfortable night and was in
+no mood for conversation. He did not refer, in any way, to the matters
+which had been discussed the evening before; and when Pen, with the
+letter in his pocket, started for school, the situation was entirely
+unchanged. But, somehow, in the freshness of the morning, under the
+cheerful rays of an unclouded sun, the task that had been set for Pen
+did not seem to him to be quite so difficult and repulsive as it had
+seemed the night before. He even deigned to whistle as he went down
+the path to the street. But he noticed, as he passed along through the
+business section of the town, that people whom he knew looked at him
+curiously, and that those who spoke to him did so with scant courtesy.
+Across the street, from the corner of his eye, he saw one man call
+another man's attention to him, and both men turned their heads, for a
+moment, to watch him. A little farther along he caught sight of Elmer
+Cuddeback, his bosom companion, a half block ahead, and he called out
+to him:
+
+"Hey! Elmer, wait a minute!"
+
+But Elmer did not wait. He looked back to see who had called to him,
+and then he replied:
+
+"I can't! I got to catch up with Jimmie Morrissey."
+
+And he started off on a run. This was the cut direct. There was no
+mistaking it. It sent a new fear to Pen's heart. It served to explain
+why his schoolfellows had not been to see him and sympathize with him.
+He had not before fully considered what effect his conduct of the
+previous Saturday might have upon those who had been his best friends.
+But Elmer's action was suspiciously expressive. It was more than that,
+it was ominous and forbidding. Pen trudged on alone. A group of a
+half dozen boys who had heretofore recognized him as their leader,
+turned a corner into Main street, and went down on the other side. He
+did not call to them, nor did they pay any attention to him, except
+that, once or twice, some of them looked back, apparently to see
+whether he was approaching them. But his ears burned. He knew they
+were discussing his fault.
+
+In the school-house yard another group of boys was gathered. They were
+so earnestly engaged in conversation that they did not notice Pen's
+approach until he was nearly on them. Then one of them gave a low
+whistle and instantly the talking ceased.
+
+"Hello, fellows!" Pen made his voice and manner as natural and easy as
+determined effort could make them.
+
+Two or three of them answered "Hello!" in an indifferent way;
+otherwise none of them spoke to him.
+
+If the battle of Chestnut Hill had ended when the enemy had been
+driven into the school-house, and if the conquering troops had then
+gone home proclaiming their victory, these same boys who were now
+treating him with such cold indifference, would have been flinging
+their arms about his shoulders this morning, and proclaiming him to
+the world as a hero; and Pen knew it. With flushed face and sinking
+heart he turned away and entered the school-house.
+
+Aleck Sands was already there, sitting back in a corner, surrounded by
+sympathizing friends. He still bore marks of the fray.
+
+As Pen came in some one in the group said:
+
+"Here he comes now."
+
+Another one added:
+
+"Hasn't he got the nerve though, to show himself after what he done to
+the flag?"
+
+And a third one, not to be outdone, declared:
+
+"Aw! He's a reg'lar Benedic' Arnold."
+
+Pen heard it all, as they had intended he should. He stopped in the
+aisle and faced them. The grief and despair that he had felt outside
+when his own comrades had ignored him, gave place now to a sudden
+blazing up of the old wrath. He did not raise his voice; but every
+word he spoke was alive with anger.
+
+"You cowardly puppies! You talk about the flag! The only flag you're
+fit to live under is the black flag, with skull and cross-bones on
+it."
+
+Then he turned on his heel and marched up the aisle to where Miss Grey
+was seated at her desk. He took Colonel Butler's letter from his
+pocket and handed it to her.
+
+"My grandfather," he said, "wishes me to give you this letter."
+
+She looked up at him with a grieved and troubled face.
+
+"Oh, Pen!" she exclaimed, despairingly, "what have you done, and why
+did you do it?"
+
+She was fond of the boy. He was her brightest and most gentlemanly
+pupil. On only one or two other occasions, during the years of her
+authority, had she found it necessary to reprimand him for giving way
+to sudden fits of passion leading to infraction of her rules. So that
+it was with deep and real sorrow that she deplored his recent conduct
+and his present position.
+
+"I don't know," he answered her. "I guess my temper got the best of
+me, that's all."
+
+"But, Pen, I don't know what to do. I'm simply at my wit's end."
+
+"I'm sorry to have given you so much trouble, Miss Grey," he replied.
+"But when it comes to punishing me, I think the letter will help you
+out."
+
+The bell had stopped ringing. The boys and girls had crowded in and
+were already seated, awaiting the opening of school. Pen turned away
+from his teacher and started down the aisle toward his seat, facing
+his fellow-pupils as he went.
+
+And then something happened; something unusual and terrible; something
+so terrible that Pen's face went pale, he paused a moment and looked
+ahead of him as though in doubt whether his ears had deceived him, and
+then he dropped weakly into his seat. They had hissed him. From a far
+corner of the room came the first sibilant sound, followed at once by
+a chorus of hisses that struck straight to the boy's heart, and echoed
+through his mind for years.
+
+Miss Grey sprang to her feet. For the first time in all the years she
+had taught them her pupils saw her fired with anger. She brought her
+gavel down on the table with a bang.
+
+"This is disgraceful!" she exclaimed. "We are in a school-room, not in
+a goose-pond, nor in a den of snakes. I want every one who has hissed
+to remain here when school closes at noon."
+
+But it was not until after the opening exercises had been concluded,
+and the younger children had gone out to the room of the assistant
+teacher, that she found an opportunity to read Colonel Butler's
+letter. It did help her out, as Pen had said it would. She resolved to
+act immediately upon the request contained in it, before calling any
+classes. She rose in her place.
+
+"I have an unpleasant duty to perform," she said. "I hoped, when I
+gave you boys permission to have the snowball fight, that it would
+result in permanent peace among you. It has, apparently, served only
+to embitter you more deeply against each other. The school colors have
+been removed from the building without authority. With those guilty of
+this offense I shall deal hereafter. The flag has been abused and
+thrown into the slush of the street. As to this I shall not now decide
+whose was the greater fault. But one, at least, of those concerned in
+such treatment of our colors has realized the seriousness of his
+misconduct, and desires to apologize for it, to his teacher, to his
+country, to his flag, and to the one who was carrying it at the time
+of the assault. Penfield, you may come to the platform."
+
+But Pen did not stir. He sat there as though made of stone, that awful
+hiss still sounding in his ears. Miss Grey's voice came to him as from
+some great distance. He did not seem to realize what she was saying to
+him. She saw his white face, and the vacant look in his eyes, and she
+pitied him; but she had her duty to perform.
+
+"Penfield," she repeated, "will you please come to the platform? We
+are waiting for your apology."
+
+This time Pen heard her and roused himself. He rose slowly to his
+feet; but he did not move from his place. He spoke from where he
+stood.
+
+"Miss Grey," he said, "after what has occurred here this morning, I
+have decided--not--to--apologize."
+
+He bent over, picked up his books from the desk in front of him,
+stepped out into the aisle, walked deliberately down between rows of
+astounded schoolmates to the vestibule, put on his cap and coat, and
+went out into the street.
+
+No one called him back. He would not have gone if any one had. He
+turned his face toward home. Whether or not people looked at him
+curiously as he passed, he neither knew nor cared. He had been hissed
+in public by his schoolfellows. No condemnation could be more severe
+than this, or lead to deeper humiliation. Strong men have quailed
+under this repulsive and terrible form of public disapproval. It is
+little wonder that a mere schoolboy should be crushed by it. That he
+could never go back to Miss Grey's school was perfectly plain to him.
+That, having refused to apologize, he could not remain at Bannerhall,
+was equally certain. One path only remained open to him, and that was
+the snow-filled, country road leading to his grandfather Walker's
+humble abode at Cobb's Corners.
+
+When he reached home he found that his grandfather and his Aunt
+Millicent had gone down the river road for a sleigh-ride. He did not
+wait to consider anything, for there was really nothing to consider.
+He went up to his room, packed his suit-case with some clothing and a
+few personal belongings, and came down stairs and left his baggage in
+the hall while he went into the library and wrote a letter to his
+grandfather. When it was finished he read it over to himself, aloud:
+
+    "_Dear Grandfather:_
+
+    "After what happened at school this morning it was impossible for
+    me to apologize, and keep any of my self-respect. So I am going to
+    Cobb's Corners to live with my mother and Grandpa Walker, as you
+    wished. Good-by!
+
+      "Your affectionate grandson,
+        "Penfield Butler."
+
+    "P. S. Please give my love to Aunt Millicent."
+
+He enclosed the letter in an envelope, addressed it, and left it lying
+on the library table. Then he put on his cap and coat, took his
+suit-case, and went out into the sunlight of the winter morning. At
+the entrance gate he turned and looked back at Bannerhall, the wide
+lawn, the noble trees, the big brick house with its hospitable porch,
+the window of his own room, facing the street. Something rose in his
+throat and choked him a little, but his eyes were dry as he turned
+away. He knew the road to Cobb's Corners very well indeed. He had made
+frequent visits to his mother there in the summer time. For,
+notwithstanding his forbidding attitude, Colonel Butler recognized the
+instinct that drew mother and child together, and never sought to deny
+it proper expression. But it was hard traveling on the road to-day,
+especially with a burden to carry, and Pen was glad when Henry Cobb, a
+neighbor of Grandpa Walker, came along with horse and sleigh and
+invited him to ride.
+
+It was just after noon when he reached his grandfather's house, and
+the members of the family were at dinner. They looked up in
+astonishment when he entered.
+
+"Why, Pen!" exclaimed his mother, "whatever brings you here to-day?"
+
+"I've come to stay with you awhile, mother," he replied, "if grandpa
+'ll take me in."
+
+"Of course grandpa 'll take you in."
+
+And then, as mothers will, especially surprised mothers, she fell on
+his neck and kissed him, and smiled through her tears.
+
+"Well, I dunno," said Grandpa Walker, facetiously, balancing a
+good-sized morsel of food carefully on the blade of his knife, "that
+depen's on wuther ye're willin' to take pot-luck with us or not."
+
+"I'm willing to take anything with you," replied Pen, "if you'll give
+me a home till I can shift for myself."
+
+He went around the table and kissed his grandmother who had, for
+years, been partially paralyzed, shook hands with his Uncle Joseph and
+Aunt Miranda, and greeted their little brood of offspring cheerfully.
+
+"What's happened to ye, anyhow?" asked Grandpa Walker when the
+greetings were over and a place had been prepared for Pen at the
+table. "Dick Butler kick ye out; did he?"
+
+"Not exactly," was the reply. "But he told me I couldn't stay there
+unless I did a certain thing, and I didn't do it--I couldn't do
+it--and so I came away."
+
+"Jes' so. That's Dick Butler to a T. Ef ye don't give him his own way
+in everything he aint no furder use for ye. Well, eat your dinner now,
+an' tell us about it later."
+
+So Pen ate his dinner. He was hungry, and, for the time being at
+least, the echo of that awful hiss was not ringing in his ears. But
+they would not let him finish eating until he had told them, in
+detail, the cause of his coming. He made the story as brief as
+possible, neither seeking to excuse himself nor to lay the blame on
+others.
+
+"Well," was Grandpa Walker's comment when the recital was finished, "I
+dunno but what ye done all right enough. They ain't one o' them blame
+little scalawags down to Chestnut Valley, but what deserves a good
+thrashin' on gen'al principles. They yell names at me every time I go
+down to mill, an' then cut an' run like blazes 'fore I can git at 'em
+with a hoss-whip. I'm glad somebody's hed the grace to wallop 'em. And
+es for Dick Butler; he's too allfired pompous an' domineerin' for
+anybody to live with, anyhow. Lets on he was a great soldier! Humph!
+I've known him--"
+
+"Hush, father!"
+
+It was Pen's mother who spoke. The old man turned toward her abruptly.
+
+"You ain't got no call," he said, "to stick up for Dick Butler."
+
+"I know," she replied. "But he's Pen's grandfather, and it isn't nice
+to abuse him in Pen's presence."
+
+"Well, mebbe that's so."
+
+He rose from the table, got his pipe from the mantel, filled it and
+lighted it, and went over and deposited his somewhat ponderous body in
+a cushioned chair by the window. Pen's mother and aunt pushed the
+wheel-chair in which Grandma Walker sat, to one side of the room, and
+began to clear the dishes from the table.
+
+"Well," said the old man, between his puffs of smoke, "now ye're here,
+what ye goin' to do here?"
+
+"Anything you have for me to do, grandpa," replied Pen.
+
+"I don't see's I can send ye to school."
+
+"I'd rather not go to school. I'd rather work--do chores, anything."
+
+"All right! I guess we can keep ye from rustin'. They's plenty to do,
+and I ain't so soople as I was at sixty."
+
+He looked the embodiment of physical comfort, with his round, fresh
+face, and the fringe of gray whiskers under his chin, as he sat at
+ease in his big chair by the window, puffing lazily at his pipe.
+
+So Pen stayed. There was no doubt but that he earned his keep. He did
+chores. He chopped wood. He brought water from the well. He fed the
+horse and the cows, the chickens and the pigs. He drove Old Charlie in
+the performance of any work requiring the assistance of a horse. He
+was busy from morning to night. He slept in a cold room, he was up
+before daylight, he was out in all kinds of weather, he did all kinds
+of tasks. There were sore muscles and aching bones, indeed, before he
+had hardened himself to his work; for physical labor was new to him;
+but he never shirked nor complained. Moreover he was treated kindly,
+he had plenty to eat, and he shared in whatever diversions the family
+could afford. Then, too, he had his mother to comfort him, to cheer
+him, to sympathize with him, and to be, ever more and more, his
+confidante and companion.
+
+And Grandpa Walker, relieved of nearly all laborious activities about
+the place, much to his enjoyment, spent his time reading, smoking and
+dozing through the days of late winter and early spring, and
+discussing politics and big business in the country store at the
+cross-roads of an evening.
+
+One afternoon, about the middle of March, as the old man was rousing
+himself from his after-dinner nap, two men drove up to the Walker
+homestead, tied their horse at the gate, came up the path to the house
+and knocked at the door. He, himself, answered the knock.
+
+"Yes," he said in response to their inquiry, "I'm Enos Walker, and I'm
+to hum."
+
+The spokesman of the two was a tall young man with a very black
+moustache and a merry twinkle in his eyes.
+
+"We're glad to see you, Mr. Walker," he declared. "My name is Hubert
+Morrissey, and the gentleman who is with me is Mr. Frank Campbell.
+We're on a hunting expedition."
+
+"Perty late in the season fer huntin', ain't it? The law's on most
+everything now."
+
+"I don't think the law's on what we're hunting for."
+
+"What ye huntin' fer?"
+
+"Spruce trees."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"Spruce trees. Or, rather, one spruce tree."
+
+"Well, ye wouldn't have to shoot so allfired straight to hit one in
+these parts. I've got a swamp full of 'em down here."
+
+"So we understand. But we want a choice one."
+
+"I've got some that can't be beat this side the White mountains."
+
+"We've learned that also. We took the liberty of looking over your
+spruce grove on our way up here."
+
+"Well; they didn't nobody hender ye, did they?"
+
+"No. We found what we were looking for, all right."
+
+"Jes' so. Come in an' set down."
+
+Grandpa Walker moved ponderously from the doorway in which he had been
+standing, to his comfortable chair by the window, seated himself,
+picked up his pipe from the window-sill, filled it, lighted it and
+began puffing. The two men entered the room, closing the door behind
+them, and found chairs for themselves and occupied them. Then the
+conversation was renewed.
+
+"We'll be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Walker," said Hubert
+Morrissey, "and tell you what we want and why we want it. It is
+proposed to erect a first-class liberty-pole in the school-yard at
+Chestnut Hill. A handsome American flag has already been given to the
+school. The next thing in order of course is the pole. Mr. Campbell
+and I have been authorized to find a spruce tree that will fill the
+bill, buy it, and have it cut and trimmed and hauled to town while the
+snow is still on. It has to be dressed, seasoned, painted, and ready
+to plant by the time the frost goes out, and there isn't a day to
+lose. There, Mr. Walker, that is our errand."
+
+"Jes' so. Found the tree did ye? down in my swamp?"
+
+"We certainly did."
+
+"Nice tree, is it? What ye was lookin' fer?"
+
+"It's a beauty! Just what we want. I know it isn't just the thing to
+crack up the goods you're trying to buy from the other fellow, but we
+want to be perfectly fair with you, Mr. Walker. We want to pay you
+what the tree is worth. Suppose we go down the hill and look it over,
+and then you can doubtless give us your price on it."
+
+"'Tain't ne'sary to go down an' look it over. I know the tree ye've
+got your eye on."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Oh, sort o' guessed it. It's the one by the corner o' the rail fence
+on the fu'ther side o' the brook as ye go in from the road."
+
+"That's a good guess. It's the very tree. Now then, what about the
+price?"
+
+The old man pulled on his pipe for a moment with rather more than his
+usual vigor, then removed it from his mouth and faced his visitors.
+
+"Want to buy that tree, do ye?" he asked.
+
+"Sure we want to buy it."
+
+"Cash down, jedgment note, or what?"
+
+The man with the black moustache smiled broadly, showing an even row
+of white teeth.
+
+"Cash down," he replied. "Gold, silver or greenbacks as you prefer.
+Every dollar in your hands before an axe touches the tree."
+
+Grandpa Walker inserted the stem of his pipe between his teeth, and
+again lapsed into a contemplative mood. After a moment he broke the
+silence by asking:
+
+"Got the flag, hev ye?"
+
+"Yes; we have the flag."
+
+"Might I be so bold as to ask what the flag cost?"
+
+"It was given to the school."
+
+"Air ye tellin' who give it?"
+
+"Why, there's no secret about it. Colonel Butler gave the flag."
+
+"Dick Butler?"
+
+"Colonel Richard Butler; yes."
+
+It was gradually filtering into the mind of Mr. Hubert Morrissey that
+for some reason the owner of the tree was harboring a resentment
+against the giver of the flag. Then he suddenly recalled the fact that
+Mr. Walker was the father of Colonel Butler's daughter-in-law, and
+that the relation between the two men had been somewhat strained. But
+Grandpa Walker was now ready with another question:
+
+"Is Colonel Richard Butler a givin' the pole too?"
+
+"Why, yes, I believe he furnishes the pole also."
+
+"It was him 't sent ye out here a lookin' fer one; was it?"
+
+"He asked us to hunt one up for him, certainly."
+
+"Told ye, when ye found one 't was right, to git it? Not to haggle
+about the price, but git it an' pay fer it? Told ye that, didn't he?"
+
+"Well, if it wasn't just that it was first cousin to it."
+
+"Jes' so. Well, you go back to Chestnut Hill, an' you go to Colonel
+Richard Butler, an' you tell Colonel Richard Butler that ef he wants
+to buy a spruce tree from Enos Walker of Cobb's Corners, to come here
+an' bargain fer it himself. He'll find me to hum most any day. How's
+the sleighin'?"
+
+"Pretty fair. But, Mr. Walker--"
+
+"No buts, ner ifs, ner ands. Ye heard what I said, an' I stan' by it
+till the crack o' jedgment."
+
+The old man rose, knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put the pipe
+in his vest pocket, stretched himself, and reached for his cap. It was
+plain that he considered the interview at an end. The persuasive Mr.
+Morrissey tried to get a wedge in somewhere to reopen it, but he tried
+in vain. Enos Walker was adamant. So, disappointed and discomfited,
+the emissaries of Colonel Richard Butler bade "good-day," to the
+oracle of Cobb's Corners, and drove back to Chestnut Hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+On the morning after the interview with Enos Walker, Mr. Morrissey and
+Mr. Campbell went up to Bannerhall to report to Colonel Richard
+Butler. But they went hesitatingly. Indeed, it had been a question in
+their minds whether it would not be wiser to say nothing to Colonel
+Butler concerning their experience at Cobb's Corners, and simply to go
+elsewhere and hunt up another tree. But Mr. Walker's tree was such a
+model of perfection for their purpose, the possibility of finding
+another one that would even approach it in suitability was so
+extremely remote, that the two gentlemen, after serious discussion of
+the question, being well aware of Colonel Butler's idiosyncrasies,
+decided, finally, to put the whole case up to him, and to accept
+cheerfully whatever he might have in store for them. There was one
+chance in a hundred that the colonel, instead of scornfully resenting
+Enos Walker's proposal, might take the matter philosophically and
+accept the old man's terms. They thought it better to take that
+chance.
+
+They found Colonel Butler in his office adjoining the library. He was
+in an ordinarily cheerful mood, although the deep shadows under his
+eyes, noticeable only within the last few weeks, indicated that he had
+been suffering either in mind or in body, perhaps in both.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," he said when his visitors were seated; "what about
+the arboreal errand? Did you find a tree?"
+
+Mr. Hubert Morrissey, as he had been the day before, was again,
+to-day, the spokesman for his committee of two.
+
+"We found a tree," he replied.
+
+"One in all respects satisfactory I hope?" the colonel inquired.
+
+"Eminently satisfactory," was the answer. "In fact a perfect beauty. I
+doubt if it has its equal in this section of the state. Wouldn't you
+say so, Mr. Campbell?"
+
+"I fully agree with you," replied Mr. Campbell. "It's without a peer."
+
+"How will it measure?" inquired the colonel.
+
+"I should say," responded Mr. Morrissey, "that it will dress up to
+about twelve inches at the base, and will stand about fifty feet to
+the ball on the summit. Shouldn't you say so, Mr. Campbell?"
+
+"Just about," was the reply. "Not an inch under those figures, in my
+judgment."
+
+"Good!" exclaimed the colonel. "Permit me to congratulate you,
+gentlemen. You have performed a distinct public service. You deserve
+the thanks of the entire community."
+
+"But, colonel," said Mr. Morrissey with some hesitation, "we were not
+quite able to close a satisfactory bargain with the owner of the
+tree."
+
+"That is unfortunate, gentlemen. You should not have permitted a few
+dollars to stand in the way of securing your prize. I thought I gave
+you a perfectly free hand to do as you thought best."
+
+"So you did, colonel. But the hitch was not so much over a matter of
+price as over a matter of principle."
+
+"Over a matter of principle? I don't understand you, sir. How could
+any citizen of this free country object, as a matter of principle, to
+having his tree converted into a staff from the summit of which the
+emblem of liberty might be flung to the breeze? Especially when he was
+free to name his own price for the tree."
+
+"But he wouldn't name any price."
+
+"Did he refuse to sell?"
+
+"Not exactly; but he wouldn't bargain except on a condition that we
+were unable to meet."
+
+"What condition? Who is the man? Where does he live?"
+
+Colonel Butler was growing plainly impatient over the obstructive
+tactics in which the owner of the tree had indulged.
+
+"He lives," replied Mr. Morrissey, "at Cobb's Corners. His name is
+Enos Walker. His condition is that you go to him in person to bargain
+for the tree. There's the situation, colonel. Now you have it all."
+
+The veteran of the Civil War straightened up in his chair, threw back
+his shoulders, and gazed at his visitors in silence. Surprise, anger,
+contempt; these were the emotions the shadows of which successively
+overspread his face.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, at last, "are you aware what a preposterous
+proposition you have brought to me?"
+
+"It is not our proposition, colonel."
+
+"I know it is not, sir. You are simply the bearers of it. Permit me to
+ask you, however, if it is your recommendation that I yield to the
+demand of this crude highwayman of Cobb's Corners?"
+
+"Why, Mr. Campbell and I have talked the matter over, and, in view of
+the fact that this appears to be the only available tree within easy
+reach, and is so splendidly adapted to our purposes, we have thought
+that possibly you might suggest some method whereby--"
+
+"Gentlemen--" Colonel Butler had risen from his chair and was pacing
+angrily up and down the room. His face was flushed and his fingers
+were working nervously. "Gentlemen--" he interrupted--"my fortune is
+at your disposal. Purchase the tree where you will; on the hills of
+Maine, in the swamps of Georgia, on the plains of California. But do
+not suggest to me, gentlemen; do not dare to suggest to me that I
+yield to the outrageous demand of this person who has made you the
+bearers of his impertinent ultimatum."
+
+Mr. Morrissey rose in his turn, followed by Mr. Campbell.
+
+"Very well, colonel," said the spokesman. "We will try to procure the
+tree elsewhere. We thought it no more than right to report to you
+first what we had done. That is the situation is it not, Mr.
+Campbell?"
+
+"That is the situation, exactly," assented Mr. Campbell.
+
+The colonel had reached the window in his round of the room, and had
+stopped there.
+
+"That was quite the thing to do, gentlemen," he replied.
+"A--quite--the thing--to do."
+
+He stood gazing intently out through the window at the banks of snow
+settling and wasting under the bright March sunshine. Not that his
+eyes had been attracted to anything in particular on his lawn, but
+that a thought had entered his mind which demanded, for the moment,
+his undivided attention.
+
+His two visitors stood waiting, somewhat awkwardly, for him to turn
+again toward them, but he did not do so. At last Mr. Morrissey plucked
+up courage to break in on his host's reverie.
+
+"I--I think we understand you now, colonel," he said. "We'll go
+elsewhere and do the best we can."
+
+Colonel Butler faced away from the window and came back into the room.
+
+"Pardon me, gentlemen," he said. "My mind was temporarily occupied by
+a thought that has come to me in this matter. Upon further
+consideration it occurs to me that it may be expedient for me to yield
+on this occasion to Mr. Walker's request, and visit him in person. In
+the meantime you may suspend operations. I will advise you later of
+the outcome of my plans."
+
+"You are undoubtedly wise, colonel," replied Mr. Morrissey, "to make a
+further effort to secure this particular tree. Wouldn't you say so,
+Mr. Campbell?"
+
+"Undoubtedly!" replied Mr. Campbell with some warmth.
+
+So the matter was left in that way. Colonel Butler was to inform his
+agents what, if anything, he had been able to accomplish by means of a
+personal interview with Mr. Walker, always assuming that he should
+finally and definitely decide to seek such an interview. And Mr.
+Hubert Morrissey and Mr. Frank Campbell bowed themselves out of
+Colonel Butler's presence.
+
+While the cause of this sudden change of attitude on Colonel Butler's
+part remained a mystery to his two visitors, it was, in reality, not
+far to seek. For, as he looked out at his window that March morning,
+he saw, not the bare trees on the lawn, not the brown hedge or the
+beaten roadway; he saw, out somewhere among the snow-covered fields,
+laboring as a farmer's boy, enduring the privations of a humble home,
+and the limitations of a narrow environment, the lad who for a dozen
+years had been his solace and his pride, the light and the life of
+Bannerhall. How sadly he missed the boy, no one, save perhaps his
+faithful daughter, had any conception. And she knew it, not because of
+any word of complaint that had escaped his lips, but because every
+look and mood and motion told her the story. He would not send for
+his grandson; he would not ask him to come back; he would not force
+him to come. It was a piece of childish folly on the boy's part no
+doubt, this going away; due to his impetuous nature and his immature
+years; but, he had made his bed, now let him lie in it till he should
+come to a realization of what he had done, and, like the prodigal son
+of old, should come back of his own accord, and ask to be forgiven.
+Yet the days went by, and the weeks grew long, and no prodigal
+returned. There was no abatement of determination on the grandfather's
+part, but the idea grew slowly in his mind that if by some chance, far
+removed from even the suspicion of design, they should encounter each
+other, he and the boy, face to face, in the village street, on the
+open road, in field or farm-house, something might be said or done
+that would lead to the longed-for reconciliation. It was the practical
+application of this thought that led to his change of attitude that
+morning in the presence of his visitors. He would have a legitimate
+errand to the home of Enos Walker. The incidental opportunities that
+might lie in the path of such an errand properly fulfilled, were not
+to be lightly ignored nor peremptorily dismissed. At any rate the
+matter was worth careful consideration. He considered it, and made his
+decision.
+
+That afternoon, after his daughter Millicent had gone down into the
+village in entire ignorance of any purpose that he might have had to
+leave the house, he ordered his horse and cutter for a drive. Later he
+changed the order, and directed that his team and two-seated sleigh be
+brought to the door. It had occurred to him that there was a bare
+possibility that he might have a passenger on his return trip. Then he
+arrayed himself in knee-high rubber boots, a heavy overcoat, and a fur
+cap. At three o'clock he entered his sleigh and directed his driver to
+proceed with all reasonable haste to Cobb's Corners.
+
+Out in the country where the winds of winter had piled the snow into
+long heaps, the beaten track was getting soft, and it was necessary to
+exercise some care in order to prevent the horses from slumping
+through the drifts to the road-bed. And on the westerly slope of
+Baldwin's Hill the ground in the middle of the road was bare for at
+least forty rods. But, from that point on, whether his progress was
+fast or slow, Colonel Butler scrutinized the way ahead of him, and the
+farm-houses that he passed, with painstaking care. He was not looking
+for any spruce tree here, no matter how straight and tall. But if
+haply some farmer's boy should be out on an errand for the master of
+the farm, it would be inexcusable to pass him negligently by; that was
+all. And yet his vigilance met with no reward. He had not caught the
+remotest glimpse of such a boy when his sleigh drew up at Enos
+Walker's gate.
+
+The unusual jingling of bells brought Sarah Butler and her sister to
+the window of the sitting-room to see who it was that was bringing
+such a flood of tinkling music up the road.
+
+"For the land sakes!" exclaimed the sister; "it's Richard Butler, and
+he's stopping here. I bet a cookie he's come after Pen."
+
+But Pen's mother did not respond. Her heart was beating too fast, she
+could not speak.
+
+"You've got to go to the door, Sarah," continued the sister; "I'm not
+dressed."
+
+Colonel Butler was already on his way up the path, and, a moment
+later, his knock was heard at the door. It was opened by Sarah Butler
+who stood there facing him with outward calmness. Evidently the
+colonel had not anticipated seeing her, and, for the moment, he was
+apparently disconcerted. But he recovered himself at once and inquired
+courteously if Mr. Walker was at home. It was the third time in his
+life that he had spoken to his daughter-in-law. The first time was
+when she returned from her bridal trip, and the interview on that
+occasion had been brief and decisive. The second time was when her
+husband was lying dead in the modest home to which he had taken her.
+Now he had spoken to her again, and this time there was no bitterness
+in his tone nor iciness in his manner.
+
+"Yes," she replied; "father is somewhere about. If you will please
+come in and be seated I will try to find him."
+
+He followed her into the sitting-room, and took the chair that she
+placed for him.
+
+"I beg that you will not put yourself to too much trouble," he said,
+"in trying to find him; although I desire to see him on a somewhat
+important errand."
+
+"It will not be the slightest trouble," she assured him.
+
+But, as she turned to go, he added as though a new thought had come to
+him:
+
+"Perhaps you have some young person about the premises whom you could
+send out in search of Mr. Walker, and thus save yourself the effort of
+finding him."
+
+"No," she replied. "There is no young person here. I will go myself.
+It will take but a minute or two."
+
+It was a feeble attempt on his part, and it had been quickly foiled.
+So there was nothing for him to do but to sit quietly in the chair
+that had been placed for him, and await the coming of Enos Walker.
+
+Yet he could not help but wonder as he sat there, what had become of
+Pen. She had said that there was no young person there. Was the boy's
+absence only temporary, or had he left the home of his maternal
+grandfather and gone to some place still more remote and
+inaccessible? He was consumed with a desire to know; but he would not
+have made the inquiry, save as a matter of life and death.
+
+It was fully five minutes later that the guest in the sitting-room
+heard some one stamping the snow off his boots in the kitchen
+adjoining, then the door of the room was opened, and Enos Walker stood
+on the threshold. His trousers were tucked into the tops of his boots,
+his heavy reefer jacket was tightly buttoned, and his cloth cap was
+still on his head.
+
+"Good afternoon, Mr. Butler," he said. "I'm pleased to see ye. I
+didn't know as ye'd think it wuth while to come."
+
+"It is always worth while," replied the colonel, "to meet a business
+proposition frankly and fairly. I am here, at your suggestion, to
+discuss with you the matter of the purchase of a certain tree."
+
+Grandpa Walker advanced into the room, closing the door behind him,
+went over to the window, laid aside his cap, and dropped into his
+accustomed chair.
+
+"Jes' so," he said. "Set down, an' we'll talk it over." When the
+colonel was seated he continued: "They tell me ye want to buy a
+spruce tree. Is that right?"
+
+"That is correct."
+
+"Want it fer a flag-pole, eh?"
+
+"Yes. It is proposed to erect a staff on the school grounds at
+Chestnut Hill."
+
+"Jes' so. In that case ye want a perty good one. Tall, straight,
+slender, small-limbed; proper in every way."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"Well, I've got it."
+
+"So I have heard. I have come to bargain for it."
+
+"All right! Want to look at it fust, I s'pose."
+
+"I have come prepared to inspect it."
+
+"That's business. I'll go down to the swamp with ye an' we'll look her
+over."
+
+Grandpa Walker rose from his chair and replaced his cap on his head.
+
+"Is the tree located at some distance from the house?" inquired the
+colonel.
+
+"Oh, mebbe a quarter of a mile; mebbe not so fer."
+
+"A--have you some young person about, whom you could send with me to
+inspect it, and thus save yourself the trouble of tramping through the
+snow?"
+
+Grandpa Walker looked at his visitor curiously before replying.
+
+"No," he said, after a moment, "I ain't. I've got a young feller
+stoppin' with me; but he started up to Henry Cobb's about two o'clock.
+How fer beyond Henry's he's got by this time I can't say. I ain't so
+soople as I was once, that's a fact. But when it comes to trampin'
+through the woods, snow er no snow, I reckon I can hold up my end with
+anybody that wears boots. Ef ye're ready, come along!"
+
+A look of disappointment came into the colonel's face. He did not
+move. After a moment he said:
+
+"On second thought, I believe I will not take the time nor the trouble
+to inspect the tree."
+
+"Don't want it, eh?"
+
+"Yes, I want it. I'll take it on your recommendation and that of my
+agents, Messrs. Morrissey and Campbell. If you'll name your price I'll
+pay you for it."
+
+Grandpa Walker went back and sat down in his cushioned chair by the
+window. He laid his cap aside, picked up his pipe from the
+window-sill, lighted it, and began to smoke.
+
+"Well," he said, at last, "that's a prime tree. That tree's wuth
+money."
+
+"Undoubtedly, sir; undoubtedly; but how much money?"
+
+The old man puffed for a moment in silence. Then he asked:
+
+"Want it fer a liberty-pole, do ye?"
+
+"I want it for a liberty-pole."
+
+"To put the school flag on?"
+
+"To put the school flag on."
+
+There was another moment of silence.
+
+"They say," remarked the old man, inquiringly, "that you gave the
+flag?"
+
+"I gave the flag."
+
+"Then, by cracky! I'll give the pole."
+
+Enos Walker rose vigorously to his feet in order properly to emphasize
+his offer. Colonel Butler did not respond. This sudden turn of affairs
+had almost taken away his breath. Then a grim smile stole slowly into
+his face. The humor of the situation began to appeal to him.
+
+"Permit me to commend you," he said, "for your liberality and
+patriotism."
+
+"I didn't fight in no Civil War," added the old man, emphatically;
+"but I ain't goin' to hev it said by nobody that Enos Walker ever
+profited a penny on a pole fer his country's flag."
+
+The old soldier's smile broadened.
+
+"Good!" he exclaimed. "That's very good. We'll stand together as joint
+donors of the emblem of freedom."
+
+"And I ain't ashamed of it nuther," cried the new partner, "an' here's
+my hand on it."
+
+The two men shook hands, and this time Colonel Richard Butler laughed
+outright.
+
+"This is fine," he said. "I'll send men to-morrow to cut the tree
+down, trim it, and haul it to town. There's no time to lose. The roads
+are getting soft. Why, half of Baldwin's Hill is already bare."
+
+He started toward the door, but his host called him back.
+
+"Don't be in a hurry," said Grandpa Walker. "Set down a while, can't
+ye? Have a piece o' pie or suthin. Or a glass o' cider."
+
+"Thank you! Nothing at all. I'm in some haste. It's getting late.
+And--I desire to make a brief call on Henry Cobb before returning
+home."
+
+The old man made no further effort to detain his visitor; but he gave
+him a cordial invitation to come again, shook hands with him at the
+door, and watched him half way down to the gate. When he turned and
+re-entered his house he found his two daughters already in the
+sitting-room.
+
+"Did he come for Pen?" asked Sarah Butler, breathlessly.
+
+"Ef he did," replied her father, "he didn't say so. He wanted my
+spruce tree, and I give it to him. And I want to tell ye one thing
+fu'ther. I've got a sort o' sneakin' notion that Colonel Richard
+Butler of Chestnut Hill ain't more'n about one-quarter's bad as he's
+be'n painted."
+
+Henry Cobb's residence was scarcely a half mile beyond the home of
+Enos Walker. It was the most imposing farm-house in that
+neighborhood, splendidly situated on high ground, with a rare outlook
+to the south and east. Mr. Cobb himself was just emerging from the
+open door of a great barn that fronted the road as Colonel Butler
+drove up. He came out to the sleigh and greeted the occupant of it
+cordially. The two men were old friends.
+
+"It's a magnificent view you have here," said the colonel;
+"magnificent!"
+
+"Yes," was the reply, "we rather enjoy it. I've lived in this
+neighborhood all my life, and the longer I live here the better I like
+it."
+
+"That's the proper spirit, sir, the proper spirit."
+
+For a moment both men looked off across the snow-mantled valleys and
+the wooded slopes, to the summit of the hill-range far to the east,
+touched with the soft light of the sinking sun.
+
+"You're quite a stranger in these parts," said Henry Cobb, breaking
+the silence.
+
+"Yes," was the reply. "I don't often get up here. I came up to-day to
+make an arrangement with your neighbor, Mr. Walker, for the purchase
+of a very fine spruce tree on his property."
+
+"So? Did you succeed in closing a bargain with him?"
+
+"Yes. He has consented to let it go."
+
+"You don't say so! I would hardly have believed it. Now, I don't want
+to be curious nor anything; but would you mind telling me what you had
+to pay for it?"
+
+"Nothing. He gave it to us."
+
+"He--what?"
+
+"He gave it to us to be used as a flag-staff on the grounds of the
+public school at Chestnut Hill."
+
+"You don't mean that he gave you that wonderful spruce that stands
+down in the corner of his swamp; the one Morrissey and Campbell were
+up looking at yesterday?"
+
+"I believe that is the one."
+
+"Why, colonel, that spruce was the apple of his eye. If I've heard him
+brag that tree up once, I've heard him brag it up fifty times. He
+never gave away anything in his life before. What's come over the old
+man, anyway?"
+
+"Well, when he learned that I had donated the flag, he declared that
+he would donate the staff. I suppose he didn't want to be outdone in
+the matter of patriotism."
+
+"Good for him!" exclaimed Henry Cobb. "He'll be a credit to his
+country yet;" and he laughed merrily. Then, sobering down, he added:
+"But, say; look here! can't you let me in on this thing too? I don't
+want to be outdone by either of you. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll
+cut the tree, and trim it, and haul it to town to-morrow, free gratis
+for nothing. What do you say?"
+
+Then the colonel laughed in his turn, and he reached out his one hand
+and shook hands warmly with Henry Cobb.
+
+"Splendid!" he cried. "This efflorescence of patriotism in the rural
+districts is enough to delight an old soldier's heart!"
+
+"All right! I'll have the pole there by four o'clock to-morrow
+afternoon, and you can depend on it."
+
+"I will. And I thank you, sir; not only on my own account, but also in
+the name of the public of Chestnut Hill, and on behalf of our beloved
+country. Now I must go. I have decided, in returning, to drive across
+by Darbytown, strike the creek road, and go down home by that route
+in order to avoid drifts and bare places. Oh, by the way, there's a
+little matter I neglected to speak to Mr. Walker about. It's of no
+great moment, but I understand his grandson came up here this
+afternoon, and, if he is still here, I will take the opportunity to
+send back word by him."
+
+He made the inquiry with as great an air of indifference as he could
+assume, but his breath came quick as he waited for an answer.
+
+"Why," replied Henry Cobb, "Pen was here along about three o'clock. He
+was looking for a two-year old heifer that strayed away yesterday. He
+went over toward Darbytown. You might run across him if you're going
+that way. But I'll send your message down to Enos Walker if you wish."
+
+"Thank you! It doesn't matter. I may possibly see the young man along
+the road. Good night!"
+
+"Good night, colonel!"
+
+The impatient horses were given rein once more, and dashed away to the
+music of the two score bells that hung from their shining harness.
+
+But, although Colonel Richard Butler scanned every inch of the way
+from Henry Cobb's to Darbytown, with anxious and longing eyes, he did
+not once catch sight of any farmer's boy searching for a two-year old
+heifer that had strayed from its home.
+
+At dusk he stepped wearily from his sleigh and mounted the steps that
+led to the porch of Bannerhall. His daughter met him at the door.
+
+"For goodness' sake, father!" she exclaimed; "where on earth have you
+been?"
+
+"I have been to Cobb's Corners," was the quiet reply.
+
+"Did you get Pen?" she asked, excitedly.
+
+"I did not."
+
+"Wouldn't Mr. Walker let him come?"
+
+"I made no request of any one for my grandson's return. I went to
+obtain a spruce tree from Mr. Walker, out of which to make a
+flag-staff for the school grounds. I obtained it."
+
+"That's a wonder."
+
+"It is not a wonder, Millicent. Permit me to say, as one speaking from
+experience, that when accused of selfishness, Enos Walker has been
+grossly maligned. I have found him to be a public-spirited citizen,
+and a much better man, in all respects, than he has been painted."
+
+His daughter made no further inquiries, for she saw that he was not in
+a mood to be questioned. But, from that day forth, the shadow of
+sorrow and of longing grew deeper on his care-furrowed face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+It was well along in April, that year, before the last of the winter's
+snow disappeared, and the robins and blue-birds darted in and out
+among the naked trees. But, as the sun grew high, and the days long,
+and the spring languor filled the air, Pen felt an ever-increasing
+dissatisfaction with his position in his grandfather Walker's
+household, and an ever-increasing desire to relinquish it. Not that he
+was afraid or ashamed to work; he had sufficiently demonstrated that
+he was not. Not that he ever expected to return to Bannerhall, for he
+had no such thought. To beg to be taken back was unthinkable; that he
+should be invited back was most improbable. He had not seen his
+grandfather Butler since he came away, nor had he heard from him,
+except for the vivid and oft-repeated recital by Grandpa Walker of the
+spruce tree episode, and save through his Aunt Millicent who made
+occasional visits to the family at Cobb's Corners. That he deplored
+Pen's departure there could be no doubt, but that he would either
+invite or compel him to return was beyond belief. So Pen's tasks had
+come to be very irksome to him, and his mode of life very
+dissatisfying. If he worked he wanted to work for himself, at a task
+in which he could take interest and pride. At Cobb's Corners he could
+see no future for himself worthy of the name. Many times he discussed
+the situation with his mother, and, painful as it would be to her to
+lose him, she agreed with him that he must go. He waited only the
+opportunity.
+
+One day, late in April, Robert Starbird dropped in while the members
+of the Walker family were at dinner. He was a wool-buyer for the
+Starbird Woolen Company of Lowbridge, and a nephew of its president.
+Having completed a bargain with Grandpa Walker for his scanty spring
+clipping of fleece, he turned to Pen.
+
+"Haven't I seen you at Colonel Butler's, down at Chestnut Hill?" he
+inquired.
+
+"Yes," replied Pen, "I'm his grandson. I used to live there."
+
+"I thought so. Staying here now, are you?"
+
+"Until I can get regular work; yes, sir."
+
+"Want a job, do you?"
+
+"I'd like one, very much."
+
+"Well, we'll need a bobbin-boy at the mills pretty soon. I suppose--"
+
+And then Grandpa Walker interrupted.
+
+"I guess," he said, "'t we can keep the young man busy here for a
+while yet."
+
+Robert Starbird looked curiously for a moment, from man to boy, and
+then, saying that he must go on up to Henry Cobb's to make a deal with
+him for his fleece, he went out to his buggy, got in and drove away.
+
+Pen went back to his work in the field with a sinking heart. It had
+not before occurred to him that Grandpa Walker would object to his
+leaving him whenever he should find satisfactory and profitable
+employment elsewhere. But it was now evident that, if he went, he must
+go against his grandfather's will. His first opportunity had already
+been blocked. What opposition he would meet with in the future he
+could only conjecture.
+
+With Old Charlie hitched to a stone-boat, he was drawing stones from
+a neighbor's field to the roadside, where men were engaged in laying
+up a stone wall. He had not been long at work since the dinner hour,
+when, chancing to look up, he saw Robert Starbird driving down the
+hill from Henry Cobb's on his way back to Chestnut Hill. A sudden
+impulse seized him. He threw the reins across Old Charlie's back, left
+him standing willingly in his tracks, and started on a run across the
+lot to head off Robert Starbird at the roadside. The man saw him
+coming and stopped his horse.
+
+Panting a little, both from exertion and excitement, Pen leaped the
+fence and came up to the side of the buggy.
+
+"Mr. Starbird," he said, "if that job is still open, I--I think I'll
+take it--if you'll give it to me."
+
+The man, looking at him closely, saw determination stamped on his
+countenance.
+
+"Why, that's all right," he said. "You could have the job; but what
+about your grandfather Walker? He doesn't seem to want you to leave."
+
+"I know. But my mother's willing. And I'll make it up to Grandpa
+Walker some way. I can't stay here, Mr. Starbird; and--I'm not going
+to. They're good enough to me here. I've no complaint to make. But--I
+want a real job and a fair chance."
+
+He paused, out of breath. The intensity of his desire, and the
+fixedness of his purpose were so sharply manifest that the man in the
+wagon did not, for the moment, reply. He placed his whip slowly in its
+socket, and seemed lost in thought. At last he said:
+
+"Henry Cobb has been telling me about you. He gives you a very good
+name."
+
+He paused a moment and then added:
+
+"I'll tell you what I'll do. If you'll give the old gentleman fair
+notice--and not sneak away from him like a vagabond--I won't harbor
+any runaways--why, I'll see that you get the job."
+
+Pen drew a long breath, and his face lighted up with pleasure.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Starbird!" he exclaimed. "Thank you very much. When
+may I come?"
+
+"Well, let's see. To-day's Wednesday. Suppose you report for duty next
+Monday."
+
+"All right! I'll be there. I'll leave here Monday morning. I'll speak
+to Grandpa Walker to-night."
+
+"Very well. See you Monday. Good-by!"
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+Robert Starbird chirruped to his horse, started on, and was soon lost
+to sight around a bend in the road.
+
+And Pen strode back across the field, prouder and happier than he had
+ever been before in all his life.
+
+But he still had Grandpa Walker to settle with.
+
+At supper time, on the evening after his talk with Robert Starbird,
+Pen had no opportunity to inform his grandfather of the success of his
+application for employment. For, almost as soon as he left the table,
+Grandpa Walker got his hat and started down to the store to discuss
+politics and statecraft with his loquacious neighbors. But Pen felt
+that his grandfather should know, that night, of the arrangement he
+had made for employment, and so, after his evening chores were done,
+he went down to the gate at the roadside to wait for the old man to
+come home.
+
+The air was as balmy as though it had been an evening in June.
+Somewhere in the trees by the fence a pair of wakeful birds was
+chirping. From the swamp below the hill came the hoarse croaking of
+bull-frogs. Above the summit of the wooded slope that lay toward
+Chestnut Hill the full moon was climbing, and, aslant the road, the
+maples cast long shadows toward the west.
+
+To Pen, as he stood there waiting, came his mother. A wrap was around
+her shoulders, and a light scarf partly covered her head. She had
+finished her evening work and had come out to find him.
+
+"Are you waiting for grandpa?" she asked; though she knew without
+asking, that he was.
+
+"Yes," was the reply. "I want to see him about leaving. I had a talk
+with Mr. Starbird this afternoon, in the road, and he's given me the
+job he spoke about. I wasn't going to tell you until after I'd seen
+grandpa, and the trouble was all over."
+
+"You dear boy! And if grandpa objects to your going?"
+
+"Well, I--I think I'll go anyway. Look here, mother," he continued,
+hastily; "I don't want to be mean nor anything like that; and
+grandpa's been kind to me; but, mother--I can't stay here. Don't you
+see I can't stay here?"
+
+He held his arms out to her appealingly, and she took them and put
+them about her neck.
+
+"I know, dear," she said; "I know. And grandfather must let you go. I
+shall die of loneliness, but--you must have a chance."
+
+"Thank you, mother! And as soon as I can earn enough you shall come to
+live with me."
+
+"I shall come anyway before very long, dearie. I worked for other
+people before I was married. I can do it again."
+
+She laughed a little, but on her cheeks tears glistened in the
+moonlight.
+
+Then, suddenly, they were aware that Grandpa Walker was approaching
+them. He was coming up the road, talking to himself as was his custom
+when alone, especially if his mind was ill at ease. And his mind was
+not wholly at ease to-night. The readiness with which Pen had, that
+day, accepted a suggestion of employment elsewhere, had given him
+something of a turn. He could not contemplate, with serenity, the
+prospect of resuming the burdens of which his grandson had, for the
+last two months, relieved him. To become again a "hewer of wood and
+drawer of water" for his family was a prospect not wholly to his
+liking. He became suddenly aware that two people were standing at his
+gate in the moonlight. He stopped in the middle of the road, to look
+at them inquiringly.
+
+"It's I, father!" his daughter called out to him. "Pen and I. We've
+been waiting for you."
+
+"Eh? Waitin' for me?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, Pen has something he wants to say to you."
+
+The old man crossed over to the roadside fence and leaned on it. The
+announcement was ominous. He looked sharply at Pen.
+
+"Well," he said. "I'm listenin'."
+
+"Grandpa," began Pen, "I want you to be willing that I should take
+that job that Mr. Starbird spoke about to-day."
+
+"So, that's it, is it? Ye've got the rovin' bee a buzzin' in your
+head, have ye? Don't ye know 't 'a rollin' stone gethers no moss'?"
+
+"Well, grandpa, I'm not contented here. Not but what you're good
+enough to me, and all that, but I'm unhappy here. And I saw Mr.
+Starbird again this afternoon, and he said I could have that job."
+
+"Think a job in a mill's better'n a job on a farm?"
+
+"I think it is for me, grandpa."
+
+"Work too hard for ye here?"
+
+"Why, I'm not complaining about the work being hard. It's just because
+farm work does not suit me."
+
+"Don't suit most folks 'at ain't inclined to dig into it."
+
+Then Pen's mother spoke up.
+
+"Now, father," she said, "you know Pen's done a man's work since he's
+been here, and he's never whimpered about it. And it isn't quite fair
+for you to insinuate that he's been lazy."
+
+"I ain't insinuatin' nothin'," replied the old man, doggedly. "I ain't
+findin' no fault with what he's done sence he's been here; I'm just
+gittin' at what he thinks he's goin' to do." He turned again to Pen.
+"Made up yer mind to go, hev ye?"
+
+"Yes, grandpa."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Next Monday morning."
+
+"Wuther I'm willin' or no?"
+
+"I want you to be willing."
+
+"I say, wuther I'm willin' or no?"
+
+In the moonlight the old man's face bore a look of severity that
+augured ill for any happy completion to Pen's plan. A direct question
+had been asked, and it called for a direct answer. And with the answer
+would come the clash of wills. Pen felt it coming, and, although he
+was apprehensive to the verge of alarm, he braced himself to meet it
+calmly. His answer was frank, and direct.
+
+"Yes, grandpa."
+
+"Well, I'm willin'."
+
+"Why, grandpa!"
+
+"Father! you old dear!" from Pen's mother.
+
+"I say I'm willin'," repeated the old man. "I hed hoped 't Pen'd stay
+here to hum an' help me out with the farm work. I ain't so soople as I
+use to be. An' Mirandy's man's got a stiddy job a-teamin'. An' the boy
+seemed to take to the work natural, and I thought he liked it, and I
+rested easy and took my comfort till Robert Starbird put that notion
+in his head to-day. Sence then I ain't had no hope."
+
+"I'm sorry to leave you, grandpa, and it's awfully good of you to let
+me go, and you know I wouldn't go if I thought I could possibly stay
+and be contented."
+
+"I understand. It's the same with most young fellers. They see suthin'
+better away from hum. And I ain't willin' to stand in the way o' no
+young feller that thinks he can better himself some'eres else. When I
+was fifteen I wanted to go down to Chestnut Hill and work in Sampson's
+planin' factory; but my father wouldn't let me. Consekence is I never
+got spunk enough agin to leave the farm. So I ain't goin' to stand in
+nobody else's way, you can go Monday mornin' or any other mornin', and
+I'll just say God bless ye, an' good luck to ye, an' start in agin on
+the chores."
+
+Then Pen's mother, like a girl still in her sympathies and impulses,
+flung her arms around her father's neck, and hugged him till he was
+positively obliged to use force to release himself. And they all
+walked up the path together in the moonlight, and entered the house
+and told Grandma Walker and Aunt Miranda of Pen's contemplated
+departure, to which Grandpa Walker, with martyrlike countenance, added
+the story of his own unhappy prospect.
+
+When Monday morning came Pen was up long before his usual hour for
+rising. He did all the chores, picked up a dozen odds and ends, and
+left everything ship-shape for his grandfather who was now to succeed
+him in doing the morning work. Then he changed his clothes, packed his
+suit-case and came down to breakfast. Grandpa Walker had offered to
+take him into town with Old Charlie, but Pen had learned, the night
+before, that Henry Cobb was going down to Chestnut Hill in the
+morning, and when Mr. Cobb heard that Pen also was going, he gave him
+an invitation to ride with him. He and the boy had become fast
+friends during Pen's sojourn at Cobb's Corners, and both of them
+anticipated, with pleasure, the ride into town.
+
+After breakfast Grandpa Walker lighted his pipe and put on his hat but
+he did not go to the store, as had been his custom; he stayed to say
+good-by to Pen, and to bid him Godspeed, as he had said he would, and
+to tell him that when he lacked for work, or wanted a home, there was
+a latch-string at Cobb's Corners that was always hanging out for him.
+He did more than that. He shoved into Pen's hands enough money to pay
+for a few weeks' board at Lowbridge, and told him that if he needed
+more, to write and ask for it.
+
+"It's comin' to ye," he said, when Pen protested. "Ye ain't had
+nothin' sence ye been here, and I kind o' calculate ye've earned it."
+
+Pen's mother went with him to the gate to wait for Henry Cobb to come
+along; and when they saw Mr. Cobb driving down the hill toward them,
+she kissed Pen good-by, adjured him to be watchful of his health, and
+to write frequently to her, and then went back up the path toward the
+house she could not see for the tears that filled her eyes.
+
+Henry Cobb drove a smart horse, and a buggy that was spick and span,
+and it was a pleasure to ride with him. He pulled up at the gate with
+a flourish, and told Pen to put his suit-case under the seat, and to
+jump in.
+
+It was not until after they had left the Corners some distance behind
+them that the object of Pen's journey was mentioned. Then Henry Cobb
+asked:
+
+"How does the old gentleman like your leaving?"
+
+"I don't think he likes it very well," was the reply. "But he's been
+lovely about it. He gave me some money and his blessing."
+
+"You don't say so!"
+
+Henry Cobb stared at the boy in astonishment. It was not an unheard of
+thing for Grandpa Walker to give his blessing; but that he should give
+money besides, was, to say the least, unusual.
+
+"Yes," replied Pen, "he couldn't have treated me better if I'd lived
+with him always."
+
+Mr. Cobb cast a contemplative eye on the landscape, and, for a full
+minute, he was silent. Then he turned again to Pen.
+
+"I don't want to be curious or anything," he said; "but would you mind
+telling me how much money the old gentleman gave you?"
+
+"Not at all," was the prompt reply. "He gave me eighteen dollars."
+
+"Good for him!" exclaimed the man. "He's got more good stuff in him
+than I gave him credit for. I was afraid he might have given you only
+a dollar or two, and I was going to lend you a little to help you out.
+I will yet if you need it. I will any time you need it."
+
+Henry Cobb was not prodigal with his money, but he was kind-hearted,
+and he had seen enough of Pen to feel that he was taking no risk.
+
+"You're very kind," replied the boy, "but grandpa's money will last me
+a good while, and I shall get wages enough to keep me comfortably, and
+I shall not need any more."
+
+After a while Mr. Cobb's thoughts turned again to Grandpa Walker.
+
+"He'll miss you terribly," he said to Pen. "He hasn't had so easy a
+time in all his life before as he's had this spring, with you to do
+all the farm chores and help around the house. It'll be like pulling
+teeth for him to get into harness again."
+
+Henry Cobb gave a little chuckle. He knew how fond Grandpa Walker was
+of comfortable ease.
+
+"Well," replied Pen, "I'm sorry to go, and leave him with all the work
+to do; but you know how it is, Mr. Cobb."
+
+"Yes, I know; I know. And you're going with splendid people. I've
+known the Starbirds all my life. None better in the country."
+
+They had reached the summit of the elevation overlooking the valley
+that holds Chestnut Hill. Spring lay all about them in a riot of fresh
+green. The world, to boyish eyes, had never before looked so fair, nor
+had the present ever before been filled with brighter promises for the
+future. But the morning ride, delightful as it had been, was drawing
+to an end.
+
+Coming from Cobb's Corners into Chestnut Hill you go down the Main
+street past Bannerhall. Pen looked as he went by, but he saw no one
+there. The lawn was rich with a carpet of fresh, young grass, the
+crocus beds and the tulip plot were ablaze with color, and the
+swelling buds that crowned the maples with a haze and halo of elusive
+pink foretold the luxury of summer foliage. But no human being was in
+sight. The street looked strange to Pen as they drove along; as
+strange as though he had been away two years instead of two months.
+They stopped in front of the post-office, and he remained in the wagon
+and minded the horse while Henry Cobb went into a hardware store near
+by. People passed back and forth, and some of them looked at him and
+said "good-morning," in a distant way, as though it were an effort for
+them to speak to him. He knew the cause of their indifference and he
+did not resent it, though it cut him deeply. Last winter it would have
+been different. But last winter he was the grandson of Colonel Richard
+Butler, and lived with that old patriot amid the memories and luxuries
+of Bannerhall. To-day he was the grandson of Enos Walker, of Cobb's
+Corners, leaving the farm to seek a petty job in a mill, discredited
+in the eyes of the community because of his disloyalty to his
+country's flag. He was musing on these things when some one called to
+him from the sidewalk. It was Aunt Millicent.
+
+"Pen Butler!" she cried, "get right down here and kiss me."
+
+Pen did her bidding.
+
+"What in the world are you doing here?" she continued.
+
+"I'm on my way to Lowbridge," he said. "I have a job up there in the
+Starbird woolen mills, as bobbin-boy."
+
+"Well, for goodness sake! Who would have thought it? Pen Butler going
+to work as a bobbin-boy! And Lowbridge is fourteen miles away, and we
+shall never see you again."
+
+Pen comforted her as best he could, and explained his reasons for
+going, and then he asked after the health of his grandfather Butler.
+
+"Don't ask me," she said disconsolately. "He's grieving himself into
+his grave about you. But he doesn't say a word, and he won't let me
+say a word. Oh, dear!"
+
+Then Henry Cobb came out and greeted Aunt Millicent, and, after a few
+more inquiries and admonitions, she kissed Pen good-by and went on her
+way.
+
+Mr. Cobb was going on down to Chestnut Valley, but, as the train to
+Lowbridge did not leave until afternoon, Pen said he would go down
+later. So he was left on the sidewalk there alone. He did not quite
+know what to do with himself. The boys were, doubtless, all in school.
+He walked up the street a little way, and then he walked back again.
+He had no reason for entering any of the stores, and no desire to do
+so. There was really no place for him to go. Finally he decided that
+he would go down to the Valley and wait there for the train. So he
+started on down the hill. People whom he met, acquaintances of the old
+days, looked at him askance, spoke to him indifferently, or ignored
+him altogether. It seemed to him that he was like a stranger in an
+alien land.
+
+As he passed by the school-house a boy whom he did not know was
+lingering about the steps. Otherwise there was no one in sight.
+
+Then, suddenly, there burst upon his view a sight for which he was
+not prepared. In the yard on the lower side of the school-house, the
+yard through which he and his victorious troops had driven the
+retreating enemy at the battle of Chestnut Hill, a flag-staff was
+standing; tall, straight, symmetrical, and from its summit floated the
+Star-Spangled Banner; the very banner that he had trodden under his
+feet that February day. It was as though some one had struck him on
+the breast with an ice-cold hand. He gasped and stood still, his eyes
+fixed immovably on the flag. Then something stirred within him, a
+strange impulse that ran the quick gamut of his nerves; and when he
+came to himself he was standing in the street, with head bared and
+bowed, and his eyes filled with tears. Like Saul of Tarsus he had been
+stricken in the way, and ever afterward, whenever and wherever he saw
+his country's flag, his soul responded to the sight, and thrilled with
+memories of that April day when first he discovered that rare quality
+of patriotism that had hitherto lain dormant in his breast.
+
+So he walked on down to the railroad station in Chestnut Valley, and
+went into the waiting-room and sat down.
+
+It was very lonely there and it was very tiresome waiting for the
+train.
+
+At noon he went out to a bakery and bought for himself a light
+luncheon. As he was returning to the depot he came suddenly upon Aleck
+Sands, who had had his dinner and was starting back to school. There
+was no time for either boy to consider what kind of greeting he should
+give to the other. They were face to face before either of them
+realized it. As for Pen, he bore no resentment now, toward any one.
+His heart had been wrung dry from that feeling through two months of
+labor and of contemplation. So, when the first shock of surprise was
+over, he held out his hand.
+
+"Let's be friends, Aleck," he said, "and forget what's gone by."
+
+"I'm not willing," was the reply, "to be friends with any one who's
+done what you've done." And he made a wide detour around the
+astonished boy, and marched off up the hill.
+
+From that moment until the train came and he boarded it, Pen could
+never afterward remember what happened. His mind was in a tumult.
+Would the cruel echo of one minute of inconsiderate folly on a
+February day, keep sounding in his ears and hammering at his heart so
+long as he should live?
+
+It was mid-afternoon when Pen reached Lowbridge, and he went at once
+to the Starbird mill on the outskirts of the town. He caught sight of
+Robert Starbird in the mill-yard, and went over to him. The man did
+not at first recognize him.
+
+"I'm Penfield Butler," said the boy, "with whom you were talking last
+week."
+
+"Oh, yes. Now I know you. You look a little different, some way. I've
+been watching out for you. How did you make out with your Grandpa
+Walker?"
+
+"Well, Grandpa Walker found it a little hard to take up the work I'd
+been doing, but he was quite willing I should come, and helped me very
+much."
+
+"I see." An amused twinkle came into the man's eyes; just such a
+twinkle as had come into the eyes of Henry Cobb that morning on the
+way to Chestnut Hill.
+
+"Well," he added, "I guess it's all right. Come over to the office.
+We'll see what we can do for you."
+
+They crossed the mill-yard and entered the office. An elderly,
+benevolent looking man with white side-whiskers, wearing a Grand Army
+button on the lapel of his coat, was seated at a table, writing. Three
+or four clerks were busy at their desks, and a girl was working at a
+type-writer in a remote corner of the room.
+
+"Major Starbird," said the man who had brought Pen in, "this is the
+boy whom I told you last week I had hired as a bobbin-boy. He's a
+grandson of Enos Walker out at Cobb's Corners."
+
+The man with white side-whiskers laid down his pen, removed his
+glasses, and looked up scrutinizingly at Pen.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I know Mr. Walker."
+
+"He is also," added Robert Starbird, "a grandson of Colonel Richard
+Butler at Chestnut Hill."
+
+"Indeed! Colonel Butler is a warm friend of mine. I was not aware
+that--is your name Penfield Butler?"
+
+"Yes, sir," replied Pen. Something in the man's changed tone of voice
+sent a sudden fear to his heart.
+
+"Are you the boy who is said to have mistreated the American flag on
+the school grounds at Chestnut Hill?"
+
+"I--suppose I am. Yes, sir."
+
+Pen's heart was now in his shoes. The man with white side-whiskers
+raked him from head to foot with a look that boded no good. He turned
+to his nephew.
+
+"I've heard of that incident," he said. "I do not think we want this
+young man in our employ."
+
+Robert Starbird looked first at his uncle and then at Pen. It was
+plain that he was puzzled. It was equally plain that he was
+disappointed.
+
+"I didn't know about this," he said. "I'm sorry if it's anything that
+necessitates our depriving him of the job. Penfield, suppose you
+retire to the waiting-room for a few minutes. I'll talk this matter
+over with Major Starbird."
+
+So Pen, with the ghosts of his misdeeds haunting and harassing him,
+and a burden of disappointment, too heavy for any boy to bear,
+weighing him down, retired to the waiting-room. For the first time
+since his act of disloyalty he felt that his punishment was greater
+than he deserved. Not that he bore resentment now against any person,
+but he believed the retribution that was following him was unjustly
+proportioned to the gravity of his offense. And if Major Starbird
+refused to receive him, what could he do then?
+
+In the midst of these cruel forebodings he heard his name called, and
+he went back into the office.
+
+Major Starbird's look was still keen, and his voice was still
+forbidding.
+
+"I do not want," he said, "to be too hasty in my judgments. My nephew
+tells me that Henry Cobb has given you an excellent recommendation,
+and we place great reliance on Mr. Cobb's opinion. It may be that your
+offense has been exaggerated, or that you have some explanation which
+will mitigate it. If you have any excuse to offer I shall be glad to
+hear it."
+
+"I don't think," replied Pen frankly, "that there was any excuse for
+doing what I did. Only--it seems to me--I've suffered enough for it.
+And I never--never had anything against the flag."
+
+He was so earnest, and his voice was so tremulous with emotion, that
+the heart of the old soldier could not help but be stirred with pity.
+
+"I have fought for my country," he said, "and I reverence her flag.
+And I cannot have, in my employ, any one who is disloyal to it."
+
+"I am not disloyal to it, sir. I--I love it."
+
+"Would you be willing to die for it, as I have been?"
+
+"I would welcome the chance, sir."
+
+Major Starbird turned to his nephew.
+
+"I think we may trust him," he said. "He has good blood in his veins,
+and he ought to develop into a loyal citizen."
+
+Pen said: "Thank you!" But he said it with a gulp in his throat. The
+reaction had quite unnerved him.
+
+"I am sure," replied Robert Starbird, "that we shall make no mistake.
+Penfield, suppose you come with me. I will introduce you to the
+foreman of the weaving-room. He may be able to take you on at once."
+
+So Pen, with tears of gratitude in his eyes, followed his guide and
+friend. They went through the store-room between great piles of
+blankets, through the wool-room filled with big bales of fleece, and
+up-stairs into the weaving-room amid the click and clatter and roar of
+three score busy and intricate looms. Pen was introduced to the
+foreman, and his duties as bobbin-boy were explained to him.
+
+"It's easy enough," said the foreman, "if you only pay attention to
+your work. You simply have to take the bobbins in these little
+running-boxes to the looms as the weavers call for them and give you
+their numbers. Perhaps you had better stay here this afternoon and let
+Dan Larew show you how. I'll give him a loom to-morrow morning, and
+you can take his place."
+
+So Pen stayed. And when the mills were shut down for the day, when the
+big wheels stopped, and the cylinders were still, and the clatter of
+a thousand working metal fingers ceased, and the voices of the mill
+girls were no longer drowned by the rattle and roar of moving
+machinery, he went with Dan to his home, a half mile away, where he
+found a good boarding-place.
+
+At seven o'clock the next morning he was at the mill, and, at the end
+of his first day's real work for real wages, he went to his new home,
+tired indeed, but happier than he had ever been before in all his
+life.
+
+So the days went by; and spring blossomed into summer, and summer
+melted into autumn, and winter came again and dropped her covering of
+snow upon the landscape, whiter and softer than any fleece that was
+ever scoured or picked or carded at the Starbird mills. And then Pen
+had a great joy. His mother came to Lowbridge to live with him. Death
+had kindly released Grandma Walker from her long suffering, and there
+was no longer any need for his mother to stay on the little farm at
+Cobb's Corners. She was an expert seamstress and she found more work
+in the town than she could do. And the very day on which she
+came--Major Starbird knew that she was coming--Pen was promoted to a
+loom. One thing only remained to cloud his happiness. He was still
+estranged from the dear, tenderhearted, but stubborn old patriot at
+Chestnut Hill.
+
+With only his daughter to comfort him, the old man lived his lonely
+life, grieving silently, ever more and more, at the fate which
+separated him from this brave scion of his race, aging as only the
+sorrowing can age, yet, with a stubborn pride, and an unyielding
+purpose, refusing to make the first advance toward a reconciliation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Pen made good use of his leisure time at Lowbridge. There was no night
+school there, but the courses of a correspondence school were
+available, and through that medium he learned much, not only of that
+which pertained to his calling as a textile worker, but of that also
+which pertained to general science and broad culture. History had a
+special fascination for him; the theory of government, the struggles
+of the peoples of the old world toward light and liberty. The working
+out of the idea of democracy in a country like England which still
+retained its monarchical form and much of its aristocratic flavor, was
+a theme on which he dwelt with particular pleasure. Back somewhere in
+the line of descent his paternal ancestors had been of English blood,
+and he was proud of the heroism, the spirit and the energy which had
+made Great Britain one of the mighty nations of the earth.
+
+To France also, fighting and forging her way, often through great
+tribulation, into the family of democracies, he gave almost unstinted
+praise. Always splendid and chivalric, whether as monarchy, empire or
+republic, he felt that if he were to-day a soldier he would, next to
+his own beautiful Star Spangled Banner, rather fight and die under the
+tri-color of France than under the flag of any other nation.
+
+But of course it was to the study and contemplation of his own beloved
+country that he gave most of the time he had for reading and research.
+He delved deeply into her history, he examined her constitution and
+her laws, he put himself in touch with the spirit of her organized
+institutions, and with the fundamental ideas, carefully worked out,
+that had made her free and prosperous and great. And by and by he came
+to realize, in a way that he had never done before, what it meant to
+all her citizens, and especially what it meant to him, Penfield
+Butler, to have a country such as this. He thought of her in those
+days not only as a thing of vast territorial limit and of splendid
+resources of power and wealth and intellect, not only as a mighty
+machine for humane and just government, but he thought of her also as
+a beloved and beautiful personality, claiming and deserving affection
+and fealty from all her children. And he never saw the flag, he never
+thought of it, he never dreamed of it, that it did not arouse in him
+the same tender and reverent feeling, the same lofty inspiration he
+had felt that day when he first saw it floating from its staff against
+a back-ground of clear blue sky on the school-house lawn at Chestnut
+Hill.
+
+He held himself closely to his tasks. Only twice since he came away
+had he gone back with his mother for a holiday visit at Cobb's
+Corners. Grandpa Walker had a hearty handshake for him, and an
+affectionate greeting. The boy was forging ahead in his calling, was
+developing into a fine specimen of physical young manhood, and the old
+man was proud of him. But he did not hesitate to remind him that if a
+day of adversity should come the latch-string of the old house was
+still out, and he would always be as welcome there as he was on that
+winter day when he had come to them as an exile from Bannerhall.
+
+One Memorial Day, as Pen stood at the entrance to the cemetery bridge
+watching the procession of those going in to do honor to the patriotic
+dead, he was especially impressed with the fine appearance of the
+local company of the National Guard which was acting as an escort to
+the veterans of the Grand Army post. The young men composing the
+company were dressed in khaki, handled their rifles with ease and
+accuracy, and marched with a soldierly bearing and precision that were
+admirable. It occurred to Pen that it might be advisable for him to
+join this body of citizen soldiery provided he had the necessary
+qualifications and could be admitted to membership. It was not so much
+the show and glamour of the military life that appealed to him as it
+was the opportunity that such a membership might afford to be of
+service to his country. Even then Europe was being devastated by a war
+which had no equal in history. The German armies, trained to a point
+of unexampled efficiency, with the aid of their Allies, had
+overwhelmed Belgium and had almost succeeded in entering Paris and in
+laying the whole of France under tribute. Beaten back at a crucial
+moment they had dug themselves into the soil of the invaded country
+and were holding at bay the combined forces of their Allied enemies.
+Half of Europe was in arms. The tragedies of the seas were appalling.
+International complications were grave and unending. More than one
+statesman of prophetic foresight had predicted that a continuance of
+the war must of necessity draw into the maelstrom the government of
+the United States. In such an event the country would need soldiers
+and many of them, and the sooner they could be put into training to
+meet such a possible emergency the better.
+
+Moreover it was not necessary to look across the ocean to foresee the
+necessity for military readiness. Our neighbor to the south was in the
+grip of armed lawlessness and terrorism. Northern Mexico was infested
+with banditti which were a constant menace to the safety of our
+border. Such government as the stricken country had was either unable
+or unwilling to hold them in check. It appeared to be inevitable that
+the United States, by armed intervention, must sooner or later come to
+the protection of its citizens. In that event the little handful of
+troops of the regular army must of necessity be reinforced by units of
+the state militia. It might be that soldiers of the National Guard
+would be used only for patrolling the border, and it might well be
+that they would be sent, as was one of Penfield Butler's ancestors,
+into the heart of Mexico to enforce permanent peace and tranquility at
+the point of the bayonet.
+
+So this was the situation, and this was the appeal to Pen's patriotic
+ardor. And the appeal was a strong one. But he did not at once respond
+to it. His work and his study absorbed his time and thought. It was
+not until late in the fall of that year, the year 1915, when the
+crises, both at home and abroad, seemed rapidly approaching, that Pen
+took up for earnest consideration the question of his enlistment in
+the National Guard. Given by nature to acting impulsively, he
+nevertheless, in these days, weighed carefully any proposed line of
+conduct on his part which might have an important bearing on his
+future. But he resolved, after due consideration, to join the militia
+if he could.
+
+He went to a young fellow, a wool-sorter in the mills, who was a
+corporal in the militia, to obtain the necessary information to make
+his application. The corporal promised to take the matter up for him
+with the captain of the local company, and in due time brought him an
+application blank to be filled out stating his qualifications for
+membership. It was necessary that the paper should be signed by his
+mother as evidence of her consent to his enlistment since he was not
+yet twenty-one years of age. She signed it readily enough, for she
+quite approved of his ambition, and she took a motherly pride in the
+evidences of patriotism that he was constantly manifesting.
+
+Armed with this document he presented himself, on a drill-night, to
+Captain Perry in the officers' quarters at the armory. The captain
+glanced at the paper, then he laid it on the table and looked up at
+Pen. There was a troubled expression on his face.
+
+"I'm sorry, Butler," he said, "but I'm afraid we can't enlist you."
+
+The announcement came as a shock, but not utterly as a surprise. For
+days the boy had felt a kind of foreboding that something of this sort
+would happen. Yet he did not at once give way to his disappointment
+nor accept without question the captain's pronouncement.
+
+"May I inquire," he asked, "what your reason is for rejecting me?"
+
+Captain Perry sat back in his chair and thrust his legs under the
+table. It was apparent that he was embarrassed, but it was apparent
+also that he would remain firm in the matter of his decision. Nor was
+Pen at such a loss to understand the reason for his rejection as his
+question might imply. He knew, instinctively, that the old story of
+his disloyalty to the flag had come up again, after all these years,
+to plague and to thwart him. He was quite right.
+
+"I will tell you frankly, Butler," replied the captain, "what the
+trouble is. Since it became known that you wanted to enlist, some
+members of my company have come to me with a protest against
+accepting you. They say they represent the bulk of sentiment among the
+enlisted men. You see, under these circumstances, I can't very well
+take you. We are citizen soldiers, not under the iron discipline of
+the regular army, and in matters which are really not essential I must
+yield more or less to the wishes of my boys. They like, in a way, to
+choose their associates."
+
+He ended with an apologetic wave of the hand, and a smile intended to
+be conciliatory. Chagrined and wounded, but not abashed nor silenced,
+Pen stood his ground. He resolved to see the thing through, cost what
+pain and humiliation it might.
+
+"Would you mind telling me," he inquired, "what it is they have
+against me?"
+
+"Why, if you want to know, yes. They say you're not patriotic. To be
+more explicit they say that up at Chestnut Hill, where you used to
+live, you--"
+
+Pen interrupted him. His patience was exhausted, his calmness gone.
+"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, "I know. They say I mistreated the flag. They
+say I insulted it, threw it into the mud and trampled on it. That's
+what they say, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, substantially that. Now, I don't know whether it's true or
+not--"
+
+"Oh, it's true enough! I don't deny it. And they say also that on
+account of it all I had to leave Colonel Butler's house and go and
+live with my grandfather Walker at Cobb's Corners. They say that,
+don't they?"
+
+"Something of that kind, I believe."
+
+"Well, that's true too. But they don't say that it all happened half a
+dozen years ago, when I was a mere boy, that I did it in a fit of
+anger at another boy, and had nothing whatever against the flag, and
+that I was sorry for it the next minute and have suffered and repented
+ever since. They don't say that that flag is just as dear to me as it
+is to any man in America, that I love the sight of it; that I'd follow
+it anywhere, and die for it on any battlefield,--they don't say that,
+do they?"
+
+His cheeks were blazing, his eyes were flashing, every muscle of his
+body was tense under the storm of passionate indignation that swept
+over him. Captain Perry, amazed and thrilled by the boy's
+earnestness, straightened up in his chair and looked him squarely in
+the face.
+
+"No," he replied, "they don't say that. But I believe it's true. And
+so far as I'm concerned--"
+
+Pen again interrupted him.
+
+"Oh, I'm not blaming you, Captain Perry; you couldn't do anything else
+but turn me down. But some day, some way--I don't know how
+to-night--but some way I'm going to prove to these people that have
+been hounding me that I'm as good a patriot and can be as good a
+soldier as the best man in your company!"
+
+"Good! That's splendid!" Captain Perry rose to his feet and grasped
+the boy's hand. "And I'll tell you what I'll do, Butler; if you're
+willing to face the ordeal I'll enlist you. I believe in you."
+
+But Pen would not listen to it.
+
+"No," he said, "I can't do that. It wouldn't be fair to you, nor to
+your men, nor to me. I'll meet the thing some other way. I'm grateful
+to you all the same though."
+
+"Very well; just as you choose. But when you need me in your fight
+I'm at your service. Remember that!"
+
+On his way home from the armory it was necessary that Pen should pass
+through the main street of the town. Many of the shops were still open
+and were brilliantly lighted, and people were strolling carelessly
+along the walk, laughing and chatting as though the agony and horror
+and brutality of the mighty conflict just across the sea were all in
+some other planet, billions of miles away; as though the war cloud
+itself were not pushing its ominous black rim farther and farther
+above the horizon of our own beloved land. Now and then Pen met,
+singly or in pairs, khaki clad young men on their way to the armory
+for the weekly drill. Two or three of them nodded to him as they
+passed by, others looked at him askance and hurried on. The resentment
+that had been roused in his breast at Captain Perry's announcement
+flamed up anew; but as he turned into the quieter streets on his
+homeward route this feeling gave way to one of envy, and then to one
+of self-pity and grief. Hard as his lot had been in comparison with
+the luxury he might have had had he remained at Bannerhall, he had
+never repined over it, nor had he been envious of those whose lines
+had been cast in pleasanter places. But to-night, after looking at
+these sturdy young fellows in military garb preparing to serve their
+state and their country in the not improbable event of war, an intense
+and passionate longing filled his breast to be, like them, ready to
+fight, to kill or to be killed in defense of that flag which day by
+day claimed his ever-increasing love and devotion. That he was not
+permitted to do so was heart-rending. That it was by his own fault
+that he was not permitted to do so was agony indeed. And yet it was
+all so bitterly unjust. Had he not paid, a thousand times over, the
+full penalty for his offense, trivial or terrible whichever it might
+have been? Why should the accusing ghost of it come back after all
+these years, to hound and harass him and make his whole life wretched?
+
+It was in no cheerful or contented mood that he entered his home and
+responded to the affectionate greeting of his mother.
+
+"You're home early, dear," she said.
+
+"Didn't they keep you for drill? How does it seem to be a soldier?"
+
+"I didn't enlist, mother."
+
+"Didn't enlist? Why not? I thought that was the big thing you were
+going to do."
+
+"They wouldn't take me."
+
+"Why, Pen! what was the matter? I thought it was all as good as
+settled."
+
+"Well, you know that old trouble about the flag at Chestnut Hill?"
+
+"I know. I've never forgotten it. But every one else has, surely."
+
+"No, mother, they haven't. That's the reason they wouldn't take me."
+
+"But, Pen, that was years and years ago. You were just a baby. You've
+paid dearly enough for that. It's not fair! It's not human!"
+
+She, too, was aroused to the point of indignant but unavailing
+protest; for she too knew how the boy, long years ago, had expiated to
+the limit of repentance and suffering the one sensational if venial
+fault of his boyhood.
+
+"I know, mother. That's all true. I know it's horribly unjust; but
+what can you do? It's a thing you can't explain because it's partly
+true. It will keep cropping up always, and how I am ever going to live
+it down I don't know. Oh, I don't know!"
+
+He flung himself into a chair, thrust his hands deep into his
+trousers' pockets and stared despairingly into some forbidding
+distance. She grew sympathetic then, and consoling, and went to him
+and put her arm around his neck and laid her face against his head and
+tried to comfort him.
+
+"Never mind, dearie! So long as you, yourself, know that you love the
+flag, and so long as I know it, we can afford to wait for other people
+to find it out."
+
+"No, mother, we can't. They've got to be shown. I can't live this way.
+Some way or other I've got to prove that I'm no coward and I'm no
+traitor."
+
+"You're too severe with yourself, Pen. There are other ways, perhaps
+better ways, for men to prove that they love their country besides
+fighting for her. To be a good citizen may be far more patriotic than
+to be a good soldier."
+
+"I know. That's one of the things I've learned, and I believe it. And
+that'll do for most fellows, but it won't do for me. My case is
+different. I mistreated the flag once with my hands and arms and feet
+and my whole body, and I've got to give my hands and arms and feet and
+my whole body now to make up for it. There's no other way. I couldn't
+make the thing right in a thousand years simply by being a good
+citizen. Don't you see, mother? Don't you understand?"
+
+He looked up into her face with tear filled eyes. The thought that had
+long been with him that he must prove his patriotism by personal
+sacrifice, had grown during these last few days into a settled
+conviction and a great desire. He wanted her to see the situation as
+he saw it, and to feel with him the bitterness of his disappointment.
+And she did. She twined her arm more closely about his neck and
+pressed her lips against his hair.
+
+But her heart-felt sympathy made too great a draft on his emotional
+nature. It silenced his voice and flooded his eyes. So she drew her
+chair up beside him, and he laid his head in her lap as he had used
+to do when he was a very little boy, and wept out his disappointment
+and grief.
+
+And as he lay there a new thought came to him. Swiftly as a whirlwind
+forms and sweeps across the land, it took on form and motion and swept
+through the channels of his mind. He sprang to his feet, dashed the
+tears from his face, and looked down on his mother with a countenance
+transformed.
+
+"Mother!" he exclaimed, "I have an idea!"
+
+"Why, Pen; how you startled me! What is it?"
+
+"I have an idea, mother. I'm going to--"
+
+He paused and looked away from her.
+
+"Going to what, Pen?"
+
+He did not reply at once, but after a moment he said:
+
+"I'll tell you later, mother, after it's all worked out and I'm sure
+of it. I'm not going to bring home to you any more disappointments."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+It was three days later that Pen came home one evening, alert of step,
+bright-eyed, his countenance beaming with satisfaction and delight.
+
+"Well, mother," he cried as he entered the house; "it's settled. I'm
+going!"
+
+She looked up in surprise and alarm.
+
+"What's settled, Pen? Where are you going?"
+
+"I'm going to war."
+
+She dropped the work at which she had been busy and sat down weakly in
+a chair by her dining-room table. He went to her and laid an
+affectionate hand on her shoulder.
+
+"Pardon me, mother!" he continued, "I didn't mean to frighten you, but
+I'm so happy over it."
+
+She looked up into his face.
+
+"To war, Pen? What war?"
+
+"The big war, mother. The war in France. Do you remember the other
+night when I told you I had an idea?"
+
+"Yes, I remember."
+
+"Well, that was it. It occurred to me, then, that if I couldn't fight
+for my own country, under my own flag, I would fight for those other
+countries, under their flags. They are making a desperate and a
+splendid war to uphold the rights of civilized nations."
+
+He stood there, erect, manly, resolute, his face lighted with the glow
+of his enthusiasm. She could but admire him, even though her heart
+sank under the weight of his announced purpose. Many times, of an
+evening, they had talked together of the mighty conflict in Europe.
+From the very first Pen's sympathies had been with France and her
+Allies. He could not get over denouncing the swiftness and savagery of
+the raid into Belgium, the wanton destruction of her cities and her
+monuments of art, the hardships and brutalities imposed upon her
+people. The Bryce report, with its details of outrage and crime,
+stirred his nature to its depths. The tragedy of the _Lusitania_
+filled him with indignation and horror. Now, suddenly, had come the
+desire and the opportunity to fight with those peoples who were
+struggling to save their ideals from destruction.
+
+"I'm going to Canada," he continued, "to enlist in the American
+Legion. They say hundreds and thousands of young men from the United
+States who are willing to fight under the Union Jack, have gone up
+into Canada for training and are this very minute facing the gray
+coats of the German enemy in northern France."
+
+"But, Pen," she protested, "this is such a horrible war. The soldiers
+live in the muddiest, foulest kinds of trenches. They kill each other
+with gases and blazing oil. They slaughter each other by thousands
+with guns that go by machinery. It's simply terrible!"
+
+"I know, mother. It's modern warfare. It's up to date. It's no pink
+tea as some one has said. But the more awful it is the sooner it'll be
+over, and the more credit there'll be to us who fight in it."
+
+"And you'll be so far away."
+
+She looked up at him, pale-faced, with appealing eyes. He knew how
+uncontrollably she shrank from the thought of losing him in this wild
+vortex of savagery. He patted her cheek tenderly.
+
+"But you'll be a good patriot," he said, "and let me go. It's my duty
+to fight, and it's your duty to let me fight. There isn't any doubt
+about that. Besides, this isn't really France's war nor England's war
+any more than it is our war, or any more than it is the war of any
+country that wants to maintain the ideals of modern civilization. I
+shall be serving my country almost the same as though I were fighting
+under the Stars and Stripes. And I'll be answering in the only way
+it's possible for me to answer, those people who have been charging me
+with disloyalty to the flag. Oh, I must show you what Grandfather
+Butler says. He made a speech yesterday at the flag-raising at
+Chestnut Valley, and it's all in the Lowbridge _Citizen_ this morning.
+Listen! Here's the way he winds up."
+
+He drew a newspaper from his pocket and read:
+
+"'So, fellow citizens, let me predict that before this great war
+shall come to an end the Stars and Stripes will wave over every
+battlefield in Europe. Sooner or later we must enter the conflict; and
+the sooner the better. For it's our war. It's the war of every country
+that loves liberty and justice. Up to this moment the Allies have been
+fighting for the freedom of the world, your freedom and mine, my
+friends, as well as their own. It is high time the Government at
+Washington, impelled by the patriotic ardor of our thinking citizens,
+declared the enemies of England and France to be our enemies, and
+joined hands with those heroic countries to stamp out forever the
+teutonic menace to liberty and civilization. In the meantime I say to
+the red-blooded youth of America: Glory awaits you on the war-scarred
+fields of France. Go forth! There is no barrier in the way. Remember
+that when the ragged troops of Washington were locked in a death-grip
+with the red-coated soldiers of King George, Lafayette, Rochambeau and
+de Grasse came to our aid with six and twenty thousand of the bravest
+sons of France. It is your turn now to spring to the aid of this
+stricken land and prove that you are worthy descendants of the
+grateful patriots of old.'"
+
+Pen finished his reading and laid down the paper. There had been a
+tremor in his voice at the end, and his eyes were wet.
+
+"That's grandfather," he said, "all over. I knew he'd feel that way
+about it. I had decided to go before I read that speech. Now I
+couldn't stay at home if I tried. I'm his grandson yet, mother, and I
+shall answer his call to arms."
+
+After that he sat down quietly and unfolded to his mother all of his
+plans. He told her that he had gone to Major Starbird and had confided
+to him his desire to serve with the Allied armies. The old soldier,
+veteran of many battles, had sympathized with his ambition and had
+procured for him the necessary information concerning enlistment and
+training in Canada. He was to go to New York and report to a certain
+confidential agent there at an address which had been given him, where
+he would receive the necessary credentials for enlistment in the new
+American Legion then in process of formation. And Major Starbird had
+said to him that when he returned, if at all, his place at the mill
+would still be open to him and he would be welcomed back. He told it
+all with a quiet enthusiasm that evidenced not only his fixed purpose,
+but also the fact that his whole heart was in the adventure, and that
+there would be no turning back.
+
+And his mother gave her consent that he should go. What else was there
+for her to do? Mothers have sent their sons to war from time
+immemorial. It is thus that they suffer and bleed for their country.
+And who shall say that their sacrifice is not as great in its way as
+is the sacrifice of those who offer up their lives in battle? But that
+night, through sleepless hours, when she thought of the loneliness
+that would be hers, and the hazards and horrors that would be his, and
+of how, after all, he was such a mere boy, to be petted and spoiled
+and kept at home rather than to be sent out to meet the trials and
+terrors of the most cruel war in history, her heart failed her, and
+she wept in unspeakable dread. It is the women, in the long run, who
+are the greater sufferers from the armed clash of nations!
+
+    The mother who conceals her grief
+      While to her breast her son she presses,
+    Then breathes a few brave words and brief,
+      Kissing the patriot brow she blesses,
+    With no one but her secret God
+      To know the pain that weighs upon her,
+    Sheds holy blood as e'er the sod
+      Received on Freedom's field of honor!
+
+It was three days later that Pen went away. There were many little
+matters to which he must attend before going. His mother must be
+safeguarded and her comfort looked after during his absence. His own
+private affairs must be left in such shape that in the event of his
+not returning they could easily be closed up. He permitted nothing to
+remain at loose ends. But to no one save to his employer and his
+mother did he confide his plans. He did not care to publish a purpose
+that lay so near to his heart. He went on the early morning train.
+Major Starbird was at the station to wring his hand and bid him
+Godspeed and wish him a safe return. But his mother was not there. She
+was in her room at home, her white face against the window, gazing
+with tear-wet eyes toward the south. She heard the distant rumble of
+the cars as they came, and the blasts from the far away whistle fell
+softly on her ears. And, by and by, the ever lengthening and fading
+line of smoke against the far horizon told her that the train bearing
+her only child to unknown and possibly dreadful destiny was on its
+way.
+
+Pen had been in New York before. On several memorable occasions, as a
+boy, he had accompanied his grandfather Butler to the city and had
+enjoyed the sights and sounds of the great metropolis, and had learned
+something of its ways and byways. He had no difficulty, therefore, in
+finding the address that had been given him by Major Starbird, and,
+having found it, he was made welcome there. He learned, what indeed he
+already knew, that Canada was not averse to filling out her quota of
+loyal troops for the great war by enlisting and training young men of
+good character and robust physique from the States. Armed with
+confidential letters of introduction and commendation, and certain
+other requisite documents, he left the quiet office on the busy street
+feeling that at last the desire of his heart was to be fully
+gratified. It was now late afternoon. He was to take a night train
+from the Grand Central station which would carry him by way of Albany
+to Toronto. Borne along by the crowd of home-going people he found
+himself on Broadway facing Trinity Church. The dusk of evening was
+already falling, and here and there the glow of electric lamps began
+to pierce the gloom. On one occasion he had wandered, with his
+grandfather, through Trinity Churchyard, and had read and been
+thrilled by inscriptions on ancient tomb-stones marking the graves of
+those who had served their country well in her early and struggling
+years. Had it been still day he would not have been able to resist the
+impulse to repeat that experience of his boyhood. As it was, he stood,
+for many minutes, peering through the iron railing that separated the
+living, hurrying throngs on the pavement from the narrow homes of
+those who, more than a century before, had served their generation by
+the will of God and had fallen on sleep.
+
+As he turned his eyes away from the deepening shadows of the graveyard
+it occurred to him that he would go to a hotel formerly frequented by
+Colonel Butler, and get his dinner there before going to the train. It
+would seem like old times, for it was there that they had stayed when
+he had accompanied his grandfather on those trips of his boyhood. To
+be sure the colonel would not be there, but delightful memories would
+be stirred by revisiting the place, and he felt that those memories
+would be most welcome this night.
+
+Ever more and more, in these latter days, his thoughts had turned
+toward his boyhood home. After six years of absence and estrangement
+there was still no tenderer spot in his heart, save the one occupied
+by his mother, than the spot in which reposed his memories of his
+childhood's hero, the master of Bannerhall. He wished that there might
+have been a reconciliation between them before he went to war. He
+would have given much if only he could have seen the stern face with
+its gray moustache and its piercing eyes, if he could have felt the
+warm grasp of the hand, if he could have heard the firm and kindly
+voice speak to him one word of farewell and Godspeed. He sighed as he
+turned in at the subway kiosk and descended the steps to the platform
+to join the pushing and the jostling crowd on its homeward way. At the
+Grand Central Station he procured his railway tickets and checked his
+baggage and then came out into Forty-second street. After a few
+minutes of bewildered turning he located himself and made his way
+without further trouble to his hotel. But the place seemed strange to
+him now; not as spacious as when he was a boy, not as ornate, not as
+wonderful. It was only after he had eaten his dinner and come out
+again into the lobby that it took on any kind of a familiar air, and
+not until he was ready to depart that he could have imagined the erect
+form of Colonel Butler, with its imposing and attractive personality,
+approaching him through the crowd as he had so often seen it in other
+years.
+
+Then, as he turned toward the street door, a strange thing happened. A
+familiar figure emerged from a side corridor and came out into the
+main lobby in full view of the departing boy. It needed no second
+glance to convince Pen that this was indeed his grandfather. The
+stern face, the white, drooping moustache, the still soldierly
+bearing, could belong to no one else. The colonel stopped for a minute
+to make inquiry and obtain information from a hotel attendant, then,
+having apparently learned what he wished to know, he stood looking
+searchingly about him.
+
+Pen stood still in his tracks and wondered what he should do. The
+vision had come upon him so suddenly that it had quite taken away his
+breath. But it did not take long for him to decide. He would do the
+obvious and manly thing and let the consequences take care of
+themselves. He stepped forward and held out his hand.
+
+"How do you do, grandfather," he said.
+
+Colonel Butler turned an unrecognizing glance on the boy.
+
+"You have the advantage of me, sir," he replied. "I--"
+
+He stopped speaking suddenly, his face flushed, and a look of glad
+surprise came into his eyes.
+
+"Why, Penfield!" he exclaimed, "is this you?"
+
+But, before Pen had time to respond, either by word or movement, to
+the greeting, the old man's gloved hand which had been thrust partly
+forward, fell back to his side, the light of recognition left his
+eyes, and he stood, as stern-faced and determined as he had stood on
+that February night, years ago, asking about a boy and a flag.
+
+"Yes, grandfather," said Pen, "it is I."
+
+The colonel did not turn away, nor did any harsh word come to his
+lips. He spoke with cold courtesy, as he might have spoken to any
+casual acquaintance.
+
+"This is a surprise, sir. I had not expected to see you here."
+
+He made a brave effort to control his voice, but it trembled in spite
+of him.
+
+Pen's heart was stirred with sudden pity. He saw as he looked on his
+grandfather's face, that age and sorrow had made sad inroads during
+these few years. The hair and moustache, iron-gray before, were now
+completely white, the countenance was deep-lined and sallow, the eyes
+had lost their piercing brightness. But Pen did not permit his
+surprise, or his sorrow, or his grief at the manner of his reception,
+to show itself by any word or look.
+
+"Nor did I expect to see you," he said. "Have you been long in the
+city?"
+
+"I arrived less than an hour ago. I expect to meet here my friend
+Colonel Marshall with whom I shall discuss the state of the country."
+
+"Did--did you come alone?"
+
+It was the wrong thing to say, and Pen knew it the moment he had said
+it. But the old man's appearance of feebleness had aroused in him the
+sudden thought that he ought not to be traveling alone, and,
+impulsively, he had given expression to the thought. Colonel Butler
+straightened his shoulders and turned upon his grandson a look of fine
+scorn.
+
+"I came alone, sir," he replied. "How else did you expect me to come?"
+
+"Why, I thought possibly Aunt Milly might have come along."
+
+"In troublous times like these the woman's place is at the fire-side.
+The man's duty should lead him wherever his country calls, or wherever
+he can be of service to a people defending themselves against the
+onslaught of armed autocracy."
+
+"Yes, grandfather."
+
+"I am therefore here to take counsel with certain men of judgment
+concerning the participation of this country in the bloody struggle
+that is going on abroad. After that I shall proceed to Washington to
+urge upon the heads of our government my belief that the time is ripe
+to throw the weight of our influence, and the weight of our wealth,
+and the weight of our armies, into the scale with France and Great
+Britain for the subjugation of those central powers that are waging
+upon these gallant countries a most unjust and unrighteous war."
+
+"Yes, grandfather; I agree with you."
+
+"Of course you do, sir. No right-minded man could fail to agree with
+me. And I shall tender my sword and my services, to be at the disposal
+of my country, in whatever branch of the service the Secretary of War
+may see fit to assign me as soon as war is declared. As a matter of
+fact, sir, we are already at war with Germany. Both by land and sea
+she has, for the last year, been making open war upon our commerce,
+on our citizens, on the integrity of our government. It is
+exasperating, sir, exasperating beyond measure, to see the authorities
+at Washington drifting aimlessly and unpreparedly into an armed
+conflict which is bound to come. Our president should demand from
+congress at once a declaration that a state of war exists with
+Germany, and with that declaration should go a system of organized
+preparedness, and then, sir, we should go to Europe and fight, and,
+thus fighting, help our Allies and save our native land. It shall be
+my errand to Washington to urge such an aggressive course."
+
+Of his belief in his theory there could be no doubt. Of his
+earnestness in advocating it there was not the slightest question. His
+profound sympathy with the Allies did credit to his heart as well as
+his judgment. And the devotion of this one-armed and enfeebled veteran
+to the cause of his own country, his eagerness to serve her in the
+field and his confidence in his ability still to do so, were pathetic
+as well as inspiring. It was all so big, and patriotic, and splendid,
+even in its childish egotism and simplicity, that the pure absurdity
+of it found no place in the mind of this affectionate and
+manly-hearted boy.
+
+"I believe you are right, grandfather," he said, "and it's noble of
+you to offer your services that way."
+
+"Thank you, sir!"
+
+The colonel turned as if to move toward the information desk at the
+office, and then turned back.
+
+"Pardon me!" he said, "but I forgot to inquire concerning your own
+errand in the city."
+
+"I am on my way to Canada, grandfather."
+
+A look of surprise came into the old man's eyes, followed at once by
+an expression of infinite scorn. He remembered that, in the days of
+the civil war, slackers and rebel sympathizers who wished to evade the
+draft made their way across the national border into Canada. They had
+received the contempt of their own generation and had drawn a
+figurative bar-sinister across the shield of their descendants. Could
+it be possible that this grandchild of his was about to add disgrace
+to disloyalty? That, in addition to heaping insults on the flag of his
+country as a boy, he was now, as a man, taking time by the forelock
+and escaping to the old harbor of safety to avoid some possible future
+conscription? The absurdity and impracticability of such a proposition
+did not occur to him at the moment, only the humiliation and the
+horror of it.
+
+"To Canada, sir?" he demanded; "the refuge of cowards and copperheads!
+Why to Canada, sir, in the face of this impending crisis in your
+country's affairs?"
+
+His voice rose at the end in angry protest. The look of scorn that
+blazed from under his gray eye-brows was withering in its intensity.
+Pen, who was sufficiently familiar with the history of the civil war
+to know what lay in his grandfather's mind, answered quickly but
+quietly:
+
+"I am going to Canada to enlist."
+
+"To--to what? Enlist?"
+
+"Yes; in the American Legion; to fight under the Union Jack in
+France."
+
+A pillar stood near by, and the colonel backed up against it for
+support. The shock of the surprise, the sudden revulsion of feeling,
+left him nerveless.
+
+"And you--you are going to war?"
+
+He could not quite believe it yet. He wanted confirmation.
+
+"Yes, grandfather; I'm going to war. I couldn't stay out of it. Until
+my own country takes up arms I'll fight under another flag. When she
+does get into it I hope to fight under the Stars and Stripes."
+
+A wonderful look came into the old man's face, a look of pride, of
+satisfaction, of unadulterated joy. His mouth twitched as though he
+desired to speak and could not. Then, suddenly, he thrust out his one
+arm and seized Pen's hand in a mighty and affectionate grip. In that
+moment the sorrow, the bitterness, the estrangement of years vanished,
+never to return.
+
+"I am proud of you, sir!" he said. "You are worthy of your illustrious
+ancestors. You are maintaining the best traditions of Bannerhall."
+
+"I'm glad you're pleased, grandfather."
+
+"Pleased is too mild an expression. I am rejoiced. It is the proudest
+moment of my life." He stepped away from the pillar, straightened his
+shoulders, and gazed benignantly on his grandson. "Not that I
+especially desire," he added after a moment, "that you should be
+subjected to the hazards and the hardships of a soldier's life. That
+goes without saying. But it is the hazards and the hardships he faces
+that make the soldier a hero. Death itself has no terrors for the
+patriotic brave. '_Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori._'"
+
+His eyes wandered away into some alluring distance and his thought
+into the fields of memory, and for a moment he was silent. Nor did Pen
+speak. He felt that the occasion was too momentous, the event too
+sacred to be spoiled by unnecessary words from him.
+
+It was the colonel who at last broke the silence.
+
+"It is not an opportune time," he said, "to speak of the past. But, as
+to the future, you may rest in confidence. While you are absent your
+mother shall be looked after. Her every want shall be supplied. It
+will be my delight to attend to the matter personally."
+
+Swift tears sprang to Pen's eyes. Surely the beautiful, the tender
+side of life was again turning toward him. It was with difficulty that
+he was able sufficiently to control his voice to reply:
+
+"Thank you, grandfather! You are very good to us."
+
+"Do not mention it! How about your own wants? Have you money
+sufficient to carry you to your destination?"
+
+"Thank you! I have all the money I need."
+
+"Very well. I shall communicate with you later, and see that you lack
+nothing for your comfort. Will you kindly send me your address when
+you are permanently located in your training camp?"
+
+"Yes, I will."
+
+Pen glanced at his watch and saw that he had but a few minutes left in
+which to catch his train.
+
+"I'm sorry, grandfather," he said, "but when I met you I was just
+starting for the station to take my train north; and now, if I don't
+hurry, I'll get left."
+
+He held out his hand and the old man grasped it anew.
+
+"Penfield, my boy;" his voice was firm and brave as he spoke.
+"Penfield, my boy, quit yourself like the man that you are! Remember
+whose blood courses in your veins! Remember that you are an American
+citizen and be proud of it. Farewell!"
+
+He parted his white moustache, bent over, pressed a kiss upon his
+grandson's forehead, swung him about to face the door, and watched his
+form as he retreated. When he turned again he found his friend,
+Colonel Marshall, standing at his side.
+
+"I have just bidden farewell," he said proudly, "to my grandson,
+Master Penfield Butler, who is leaving on the next train for Canada
+where he will go into training with the American Legion, and
+eventually fight under the Union Jack, on the war-scarred fields of
+France."
+
+"He is a brave and patriotic boy," replied Colonel Marshall.
+
+"It is in his blood and breeding, sir. No Butler of my line was ever
+yet a coward, or ever failed to respond to a patriotic call."
+
+And as for Pen, midnight found him speeding northward with a heart
+more full and grateful, and a purpose more splendidly fixed, than his
+life had ever before known.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+It was late in the day following his departure from New York that Pen
+reached his destination in Canada. In a certain suburban town not far
+from Toronto he found a great training camp. It was here that selected
+units of the new Dominion armies received their military instruction
+prior to being sent abroad. It was here also that many of the young
+men from the States, desirous of fighting under the Union Jack, came
+to enlist with the Canadian troops and to receive their first lessons
+in the science of warfare. Canada was stirred as she had never been
+stirred before in all her history. Her troops already at the front had
+received their first great baptism of fire at Langemarck. They had
+fought desperately, they had won splendidly, but their losses had been
+appalling. So the young men of Canada, eager to avenge the slaughter
+of their countrymen, were hastening to fill the depleted ranks, and
+the young men from the States were proud to bear them company.
+
+But life in the training camps was no holiday. It was hard, steady,
+strenuous business, carried on under the most rigid form of
+discipline. Yet the men were well clothed, well fed, had comfortable
+quarters, enjoyed regular periods of recreation, and were content with
+their lot, save that their eagerness to complete their training and
+get to the firing line inevitably manifested itself in expressions of
+impatience.
+
+To get up at 5:30 in the morning and drill for an hour before
+breakfast was no great task, nor two successive hours of fighting with
+tipped bayonets, nor throwing of real bombs and hand-grenades, nor was
+the back-breaking digging of trenches, nor the exhaustion from long
+marches, if only by such experiences they could fit themselves
+eventually to fight their enemy not only with courage but also with
+that skill and efficiency which counts for so much in modern warfare.
+
+It was ten days after Pen's enlistment that, being off duty, he
+crossed the parade ground one evening and went into the large reading
+and recreation room of the Young Men's Christian Association,
+established and maintained there for the benefit of the troops in
+training. He had no errand except that he wished to write a letter to
+his mother, and the conveniences offered made it a favorite place for
+letter writing.
+
+There were few people in the room, for it was still early, and the
+writing tables were comparatively unoccupied. But at one of them, with
+his back to the entrance, sat a young man in uniform busy with his
+correspondence. Pen glanced at him casually as he sat down to write;
+his quarter face only was visible. But the glance had left an
+impression on his mind that the face and figure were those of some one
+he had at some time known. He selected his writing paper and took up a
+pen, but the feeling within him that he must look again and see if he
+could possibly recognize his comrade in arms was too strong to be
+resisted. Apparently the feeling was mutual, for when Pen did turn his
+eyes in the direction of the other visitor, he found that the young
+man had ceased writing, and was sitting erect in his chair and
+looking squarely at him. It needed no second glance to convince him
+that his companion was none other than Aleck Sands. For a moment there
+was an awkward pause. It was apparent that the recognition was mutual,
+but it was apparent also that in the shock of surprise neither boy
+knew quite what to do. It was Aleck who made the first move. He rose,
+crossed the room to where Pen was sitting, and held out his hand.
+
+"Pen," he said, "are you willing to shake hands with me now? You know
+I was dog enough once to refuse a like offer from you."
+
+"I'm not only willing but glad to, if you want to let bygones be
+bygones."
+
+"I'll agree to that if you will agree to forgive me for what I've done
+against you and against the flag."
+
+"What you've done against the flag?"
+
+Pen was staring at him in surprise. When had the burden of that guilt
+been shifted?
+
+"Yes, I," answered Aleck. "I did far more against the flag that day at
+Chestnut Hill than you ever thought of doing. I haven't realized it
+until lately, but now that I do know it, I'm trying in every way I
+possibly can to make it right."
+
+"Why, you didn't trample on it, nor speak of it disrespectfully, nor
+refuse to apologize to it; it was I who did all that."
+
+"I know, but I dogged you into it. If I myself had paid proper respect
+to the flag you would never have got into that trouble. Pen, I never
+did a more unpatriotic, contemptible thing in my life than I did when
+I wrapped that flag around me and dared you to molest me. It was a
+cowardly use to make of the Stars and Stripes. Moreover, I did it
+deliberately, and you--you acted on the impulse of the moment. It was
+I who committed the real fault, and it has been you who have suffered
+for it."
+
+"Well, I gave you a pretty good punching, didn't I?"
+
+"Yes, but the punching you gave me was not a thousandth part of what I
+deserved; and, if you think it would even matters up any, I'd be
+perfectly willing to stand up to-night and let you knock me down a
+dozen times. Since this war came on I've despised myself more than I
+can tell you for my treatment of the flag that day, and for my
+treatment of you ever since."
+
+That he was in dead earnest there could be no doubt. Phlegmatic and
+conservative by nature, when he was once roused he was not easily
+suppressed. Pen began to feel sorry for him.
+
+"You're too hard on yourself," he said. "I think you did make a
+mistake that day, so did I. But we were both kids, and in a way we
+were irresponsible."
+
+"Yes, I know. There's something in that, to be sure. But that doesn't
+excuse me for letting the thing go as I got older and knew better, and
+letting you bear all the blame and all the punishment, and never
+lifting a finger to try to help you out. That was mean and
+contemptible."
+
+"Well, it's all over now, so forget it."
+
+"But I haven't been able to forget it. I've thought of it night and
+day for a year. A dozen times I've started to hunt you up and tell
+you what I'm telling you to-night, and every time I've backed out. I
+couldn't bear to face the music. And when I heard that they turned you
+down when you tried to enlist in the Guard at Lowbridge, on account of
+the old trouble, that capped the climax. I couldn't stand it any
+longer; I felt that I had to shoulder my part of that burden somehow,
+and that the very best way for me to do it was to go and fight; and if
+I couldn't fight under my own flag, then to go and fight under the
+next best flag, the Union Jack. I felt that after I'd had my baptism
+of fire I'd have the face and courage to go to you and tell you what
+I've been telling you now. But I'm glad it's over. My soul! I'm glad
+it's over!"
+
+He dropped into a chair by the table and rested his head on his open
+hand as though the recital of his story had exhausted him. Pen stood
+over him and laid a comforting arm about his shoulder.
+
+"It's all right, old man!" he said. "You've done the fair thing, and a
+great lot more. Now let's call quits and talk about something else.
+When did you come up here?"
+
+"Five days ago. I'm just getting into the swing."
+
+"Well, you're exactly the right sort. I'm mighty glad you're here.
+We'll fix it so we can be in the same company, and bunk together. What
+do you say?"
+
+"Splendid! if you're willing. Can it be done? I'm in company M of the
+--th Battalion."
+
+"I know of the same thing having been done since I've been here. We'll
+try it on, anyway."
+
+They did try it on, and three days later the transfer was made. After
+that they were comrades indeed, occupying the same quarters, marching
+shoulder to shoulder with each other in the ranks, sharing with each
+other all the comforts and privations of life in the barracks, moved
+by a common impulse of patriotism and chivalry, longing for the day to
+come when they could prove their mettle under fire.
+
+But it was not until February 1916 that they went abroad. After three
+months of intensive training they were hardened, supple, and skillful.
+But their military education was not yet complete. Commanders of
+armies know that raw or semi-raw troops are worse than useless in
+modern warfare. Soldiers in these days must know their business
+thoroughly if they are to meet an enemy on equal terms. They must be
+artisans as well as soldiers, laborers as well as riflemen, human
+machines compounded of blood and courage.
+
+So, in a great camp not far from London, there were three months more
+of drill and discipline and drastic preparation for the firing line.
+
+But at last, in late May, when the young grass was green on England's
+lawns, and the wings of birds were flashing everywhere in the
+sunshine, and nature was rioting in leaf and flower, a troop-ship,
+laden to the gunwales with the finest and the best of Canada's young
+patriots and many of the most stalwart youth of the States, landed on
+the welcoming shore of France. In England evidences of the great war
+had been marked, abundant and harrowing. But here, in the country
+whose soil had been invaded, the grim and stirring actualities of the
+mighty conflict were brought home to the onlooker with startling
+distinctness. At the railroad station, where the troops entrained for
+the front, every sight and sound was eloquent with the tenseness of
+preparation and the tragedy of the long fight. Soldiers were
+everywhere. Coats of blue, trousers of red, jackets of green, gave
+color and variety to the prevailing mass of sober khaki. Here too,
+dotting the hurrying throng, were the pathetic figures of the stricken
+and wounded, haggard, bandaged, limping, maimed, on canes and
+crutches, back from the front, released from the hospitals, seeking
+the rest and quiet that their sacrifices and heroism had so well
+earned. And here too, ministering to the needs of the suffering and
+the helpless, were many of the white-robed nurses of the Red Cross.
+
+It was evening when the train bearing the first section of the --th
+Battalion of Canadian Light Infantry to which Pen and Aleck belonged
+steamed slowly out of the station. All night, in the darkness, across
+the fields and through the fine old forests of northern France the
+slow rumble of the coaches, interrupted by many stops, kept up. But in
+the gray of the early morning, a short distance beyond Amiens, in the
+midst of a mist covered meadow, the train pulled up for the last time.
+This had been fighting ground. Here the invading hosts of Germany had
+been met and driven back. Ruined farm houses, shattered trees, lines
+of old trenches scarring the surface of the meadow, all told their
+eloquent tale of ruthless and devastating war. And yonder, in the
+valley, the slow-moving Somme wound its shadowy way between green
+banks and overhanging foliage as peacefully and beautifully as though
+its silent waters had never been flecked with the blood of dying men.
+Even now, as the troops detrained and marched to the sections of the
+field assigned them, the dull and continuous roar of cannon in the
+distance came to their ears with menacing distinctness.
+
+"It's the thunder of the guns!" exclaimed Pen. "I hope to-morrow finds
+us where they're firing them."
+
+"I'm with you," responded Aleck. "I shall be frightened to death when
+they first put me under fire, but the sooner I'm hardened to it the
+better."
+
+"Tut! You'll be as brave as a lion. It's your kind that wins battles."
+
+Pen turned his face toward a horizon lost in a haze of smoke, and the
+look in his eyes showed that he at least, would be no coward when the
+supreme moment came. Lieutenant Davis of their company strolled by;
+impatiently waiting for further orders. He was a strict disciplinarian
+indeed, but he was very human and his men all loved him. Pen pointed
+in the direction from which came the muffled sounds of warfare.
+
+"When shall we be there, Lieutenant?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know, Butler," was the response. "It may be to-morrow; it may
+be next month. Only those in high command know and they're not
+telling. We may camp right here for weeks."
+
+But they did not camp there. In the early evening there came marching
+orders, and, under cover of darkness, the entire battalion swung into
+a muddy and congested road and tramped along it for many hours. But
+they got no nearer to the fighting line. Weary, hungry and thirsty,
+they stopped at last on the face of a gently sloping hill protected
+from the north by a forest which had not yet suffered destruction
+either at the hands of sappers or from the violence of shells. It was
+apparent that this had been a camp for a large body of troops before
+the advancement of the lines. It was deserted now, but there were many
+caves in the hillside, and hundreds of little huts made of earth and
+wood under the sheltering trunks and branches of the trees. It was in
+one of these huts that Pen and Aleck, together with four of their
+comrades, were billeted. It was not long after their arrival before
+hastily built fires were burning, and coffee, hot and fragrant, was
+brewing, to refresh the tired bodies of the men, until the arrival of
+the provision trains should supply them with a more substantial
+breakfast. There was plenty of straw, however, and on that the weary
+troops threw themselves down and slept.
+
+At this camp the battalion remained until the middle of June. There
+were drills, marching and battalion maneuvers by day, such recreation
+in the evenings as camp life could afford, sound sleeping on beds of
+straw at night, and always, from the distance, sometimes loud and
+continuous, sometimes faint and occasional, the thunder of the guns.
+And always, too, along the muddy high-road at the foot of the slope, a
+never-ending procession of provision and munition trains laboring
+toward the front, and the human wreckage of the firing line, and
+troops released from the trenches, passing painfully to the rear. No
+wonder the men grew impatient and longed for the activities of the
+front even though their ears were ever filled with tales of horror
+from the lips of those who had survived the ordeal of battle.
+
+But, soon after the middle of June, their desires were realized.
+Orders came to break camp and prepare to march, to what point no one
+seemed to know, but every one hoped and expected it would be to the
+trenches. There was a day of bustle and hurry. The men stocked up
+their haversacks, filled their canteens and cartridge-boxes, put their
+guns in complete readiness, and at five o'clock in the afternoon were
+assembled and began their march. The road was ankle-deep with mud,
+for there had been much rain, and it was congested with endless
+convoys. There were many delays. A heavy mist fell and added to the
+uncertainty, the weariness and discomfort. But no complaint escaped
+from any man's lips, for they all felt that at last they were going
+into action. Four hours of marching brought them into the neighborhood
+of the British heavy artillery concealed under branches broken from
+trees or in mud huts, directing their fire on the enemy's lines by the
+aid of signals from lookouts far in advance or in the air. The noise
+of these big guns was terrific, but inspiring. At nine o'clock there
+was a halt of sufficient length to serve the men with coffee and
+bread, and then the march was resumed. By and by shells from the guns
+of the Allies began to shriek high over the heads of the marching men,
+and were replied to by the enemy shells humming and whining by,
+seeking out and endeavoring to silence the Allied artillery. Now and
+then one of these missiles would burst in the rear of the column,
+sending up a glare of flame and a cloud of dust and debris, but at
+what cost in life no one in the line knew.
+
+As the men advanced the mud grew deeper, the way narrower, the
+congestion greater. The passing of enemy shells was less frequent, but
+precautions for safety were increased. Advantage was taken of ravines,
+of fences, of fourth and fifth line trenches. The troops ere not
+beyond range of the German sharpshooters, and the swish of bullets was
+heard occasionally in the air above the heads of the marchers.
+
+It was toward morning that the destination of the column was reached,
+and, in single file, the men of Pen's section passed down an incline
+into their first communicating trench, and then past a maze of lateral
+trenches to the opening into the salients they were to supply. It was
+here that the soldiers whom they were to relieve filed out by them.
+Going forward, they took the places of the retiring section. At last
+they were in the first line trench, with the enemy trenches scarcely a
+hundred meters in front of them. Sentries were placed at the
+loop-holes made in the earth embankment, and the remainder of the
+section retired to their dug-outs. These under-ground rooms, built
+down and out from the trench, and bomb-proof, were capable of holding
+from eight to a dozen men. They were carpeted with straw, some of them
+had shelves, and in many of them discarded bayonets were driven into
+the walls to form hooks. It was in these places that the men who were
+off duty rested and ate and slept.
+
+In the gray light of the early June morning, Pen, who had been posted
+at one of the loop-holes as a listening sentry, looked out to see what
+lay in front of him. But the most that could be seen were the long and
+winding earth embankments that marked the lines of the German
+entrenchments, and between, on "no man's land," a maze of barbed wire
+entanglements. No living human being was in sight, but, at one place,
+crumpled up, partly sustained by meshes of wire, there was a ragged
+heap, the sight of which sent a chill to the boy's heart. It required
+no second glance to discover that this was the unrescued body of a
+soldier who had been too daring. Pen had seen his first war-slain
+corpse. Indeed, war was becoming to him now a reality. For, suddenly,
+a little of the soft earth at his side spattered into his face. An
+enemy bullet had struck there. In his eagerness to see he had exposed
+too much of his head and shoulders and had become the target for Boche
+sharpshooters. Other bullets pattered down around his loop-hole, and
+only by seeking the quick shelter of the trench did he escape injury
+or death. It was his first lesson in self-protection on the
+firing-line, but he profited by it. Two hours later he and Aleck, who
+had also been doing duty on a lookout platform, were relieved by their
+comrades, and threw themselves down on the straw of their dug-out and,
+wearied to the point of exhaustion, slept soundly. With the dawning of
+day the noise of cannonading increased, the whining of deadly missiles
+grew more incessant, the crash of exploding shells more frequent, but,
+until they were roused by their sergeant and bidden to eat their
+breakfast which had been brought by a ration-party, both boys slept.
+So soon had the menacing sounds of war become familiar to their ears.
+After breakfast those who were not on sentry duty were put to work
+repairing trenches, filling sand-bags, enlarging dug-outs, pumping
+water from low places, cleaning rifles, performing a hundred tasks
+which were necessary to make trench life endurable and reasonably
+safe. The food was good and was still abundant. There were fresh meat,
+bacon, canned soups and vegetables, bread, butter, jam and coffee. The
+two hours on sentry duty were by far the most strenuous in the daily
+routine. To remain in one position, with eyes glued to the narrow slit
+in the embankment, gas mask at hand, hand-grenades in readiness, rifle
+in position ready to be discharged on the second, the fate of the
+whole army perhaps resting on one man's vigilance, this was no easy
+task.
+
+But there were no complaints. The men were on the firing line, ready
+to obey orders, whatever they might be; they asked only one thing
+more, and that was to fight. But, in these days, there was a lull in
+the actual fighting. The "big drive" had not yet been launched. Aside
+from a skirmish now and then, a fierce bombardment for a few hours,
+an attempt, on one side or the other, to rush a trench, there was
+little aggressive warfare in this neighborhood, and few casualties;
+nor was there any material variance in the front lines of trenches on
+either side. There were six days of this kind of duty and then the men
+of Pen's company were relieved and sent to the rear for a week's rest,
+to act as reserves, and to be called during that time only in case of
+an emergency. But the following week saw them again at the front; not
+in the same trench where they had first served, but in an advanced
+position farther to the south. The trenches here were not so roomy nor
+so dry as had been those of the first assignment. There was much mud,
+slippery and deep, to be contended with, and the walls at the sides
+were continually caving in. The duties of the men, however, were not
+materially different from those with which they were already familiar.
+Clashes had been more frequent here, and the dead bodies of soldiers,
+crumpled up in the trench or lying, unrescued, on the scarred and
+fire-swept surface of "no man's land" were not an unusual sight. But
+the "rookies" were becoming hardened now to many of the horrors of
+war.
+
+It was while they were in this trench that Pen had his "baptism of
+fire." Late one afternoon the German artillery began shelling fiercely
+the first line of Allied trenches. Aleck and Pen were both on sentry
+duty. Just beyond them Lieutenant Davis stood at an advanced lookout
+post intent on studying the outside situation by means of his
+periscope. At irregular intervals machine guns, deftly hidden from the
+sight of the enemy, poked their menacing mouths toward the Boche
+lines. Now and then, finding its mark at some point in the course of
+the winding trench, an enemy shell would explode throwing clouds of
+dust and debris into the air, wrecking the earthworks where it fell,
+taking its toll of human lives and limbs. Twice Pen was thrown off his
+feet by the shock of near-by explosions, but he escaped injury, as did
+also Aleck. It was apparent that the Germans were either making a
+feint for the purpose of attacking at some unexpected point, or else
+that they were preparing for a charge on the trenches which they were
+bombarding. It developed that the latter theory was the correct one,
+for, after a while, they directed their fire to the rear of the first
+line trenches, and set up a still more furious bombardment. This, as
+every one knew, was for the purpose of preventing the British from
+bringing up reinforcements, and to give their own troops the
+opportunity to charge into the Allied front. The charge was not long
+delayed. A gray wave poured over the parapet of the German first line
+trench, rolled through the prepared openings in their own barbed-wire
+entanglements, and advanced, alternately running and creeping, toward
+the Allied line. But when the Germans were once in the open a terrible
+thing happened to them. The machine guns from all along the British
+trenches met them with a rain of bullets that mowed them down as grain
+falls to the blades of the farmer's reaper. The rifles of the men in
+khaki, resting on the benches of the parapet, spit constant and deadly
+fire at them. The artillery to the rear, in constant telephone touch
+with the first line, quickly found the range and dropped shells into
+the charging mass with terrible effect. A second body of gray-clad
+soldiers with fixed bayonets swarmed out of the German trenches and
+came to the help of their hard-beset comrades, and met a similar fate.
+Then a third platoon came on, and a fourth. The resources of the enemy
+in men seemed endless, their persistence remarkable, their
+recklessness in the face of sure death almost unbelievable. The noise
+was terrific; the constant rattle of the machine guns, the spitting of
+rifles, the booming of the artillery, the whining and crashing of
+shells, the yells of the charging troops, the shrieks of the wounded.
+In the British trenches the men were assembled, ready to pour out at
+the whistle and repel the assault on open ground; but it was not
+necessary for them to do so. The German ranks, unable to withstand the
+fire that devoured them as they met it, a fire that it was humanly
+impossible for any troops to withstand, turned back and sought the
+shelter of their trenches, leaving their dead and wounded piled and
+sprawled by the hundreds on the ground they had failed to cross.
+
+The casualties among the Canadian troops were not large, and they had
+occurred mostly before the charge had been launched, but it was in
+deep sorrow that the men from across the ocean gathered up from the
+shattered trenches the pierced and broken bodies of their comrades,
+and sent them to the rear, the living to be cared for in the
+hospitals, the dead to be buried on the soil of France where they had
+bravely fought and nobly died.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The great Somme drive began on July 1, 1916, after a week's
+devastating bombardment of the German lines. The enemy trenches had
+been torn and shattered, and when the Allied armies, in great numbers
+and with abundant ammunition, swept out and down upon them, the
+impetus and force of the advance were irresistible. Trenches were
+blotted out. Towns were taken. The German lines melted away over wide
+areas. Victory, decisive and permanent, rested on the Allied banners.
+On the third of the month the British took La Boiselle and four
+thousand three hundred prisoners. But on the fourth the enemy troops
+turned and fought like wild animals at bay. This was the day on which
+Aleck received his wounds. In the morning, as they lay sprawled in a
+ravine which had been captured the night before, waiting for orders to
+push still farther on, Aleck had said to Pen:
+
+"You know what day this is, comrade?"
+
+"Indeed I do!" was the reply, "it's Independence Day."
+
+"Right you are. I wish I could get sight of an American flag. It will
+be the first time in my life that I haven't seen 'Old Glory' somewhere
+on the Fourth of July."
+
+"True. Back yonder in the States they'll be having parades and
+speeches, and the flag will be flying from every masthead. If only
+they could be made to realize that it's really that flag that we're
+fighting for, you and I, and drop this cloak of neutrality, and come
+over here as a nation and help us, wouldn't that be glorious?"
+
+Pen's face was grimy, his uniform was torn and stained, his hair was
+tousled; somewhere he had lost his cap and the times were too
+strenuous to get another; but out from his eyes there shone a
+tenderness, a longing, a determination that marked him as a true
+soldier of the American Legion.
+
+The cannonading had again begun. Shells were whining and whistling
+above their heads and exploding in the enemy lines not far beyond.
+Off to the right, a village in flames sent up great clouds of smoke,
+and the roar of the conflagration was joined to the noise of
+artillery. Back of the lines the ground was strewn with wreckage,
+pitted with shell-holes, ghastly with its harvest of bodies of the
+slain. With rifles gripped, bayonets ready, hand grenades near by, the
+boys lay waiting for the word of command.
+
+"Aleck?"
+
+"Yes, comrade."
+
+"Over yonder at Chestnut Hill, on the school-grounds, the flag will be
+floating from the top of the staff to-day."
+
+"Yes, I know. It will be a pretty sight. I used to be ashamed to look
+at it. You know why. To-day I could stare at it and glory in it for
+hours."
+
+"That flag at the school-house is the most beautiful American flag in
+the world. I never saw it but once, but it thrilled me then
+unspeakably. I have loved it ever since. I can think of but one other
+sight that would be more beautiful and thrilling."
+
+"And what is that?"
+
+"To see 'Old Glory' waving from the top of a flag-staff here on the
+soil of France, signifying that our country has taken up the cause of
+the Allies and thrown herself, with all her heart and might into this
+war."
+
+"Wait; you will see it, comrade, you will see it. It can't be delayed
+for long now."
+
+Then the order came to advance. In a storm of shrapnel, bullets and
+flame, the British host swept down again upon the foe. The Germans
+gave desperate and deadly resistance. They fought hand to hand, with
+bayonets and clubbed muskets and grenades. It was a death grapple,
+with decisive victory on neither side. In the wild onrush and terrific
+clash, Pen lost touch with his comrade. Only once he saw him after the
+charge was launched. Aleck waved to him and smiled and plunged into
+the thick of the carnage. Two hours later, staggering with shock and
+heat and superficial wounds, and choking with thirst and the smoke and
+dust of conflict, Pen made his way with the survivors of his section
+back over the ground that had been traversed, to find rest and
+refreshment at the rear. They had been relieved by fresh troops sent
+in to hold the narrow strip of territory that had been gained.
+Stumbling along over the torn soil, through wreckage indescribable,
+among dead bodies lying singly and in heaps, stopping now and then to
+aid a dying man, or give such comfort as he could to a wounded and
+helpless comrade, Pen struggled slowly and painfully toward a resting
+spot.
+
+At one place, through eyes half blinded by sweat and smoke and
+trickling blood, he saw a man partially reclining against a post to
+which a tangled and broken mass of barbed wire was still clinging. The
+man was evidently making weak and ineffectual attempts to care for his
+own wounds. Pen stopped to assist him if he could. Looking down into
+his face he saw that it was Aleck. He was not shocked, nor did he
+manifest any surprise. He had seen too much of the actuality of war to
+be startled now by any sight or sound however terrible. He simply
+said:
+
+"Well, old man, I see they got you. Here, let me help."
+
+He knelt down by the side of his wounded comrade, and, with shaking
+hands, endeavored to staunch the flow of blood and to bind up two
+dreadful wounds, a gaping, jagged hole in the breast beneath the
+shoulder, made by the thrust and twist of a Boche bayonet, and a torn
+and shattered knee.
+
+Aleck did not at first recognize him, but a moment later, seeing who
+it was that had stopped to help him, he reached up a trembling hand
+and laid it on his friend's face. Something in his mouth or throat had
+gone wrong and he could not speak.
+
+After exhausting his comrade's emergency kit and his own in first aid
+treatment of the wounds, Pen called for assistance to a soldier who
+was staggering by, and between them, across the torn field with its
+crimson and ghastly fruitage, with fragments of shrapnel hurtling
+above them, and with bodies of soldiers, dead and living, tossed into
+the murky air by constantly exploding shells, they half carried, half
+dragged the wounded man across the ravine and up the hill to a
+captured German trench, and turned him over to the stretcher-bearers
+to be taken to the ambulances.
+
+It was after this day's fighting that Pen, "for conspicuous bravery in
+action," was promoted to the rank of sergeant. He wore his honor
+modestly. It gave him, perhaps, a better opportunity to do good work
+for Britain and for France, and to rehabilitate himself in the eyes of
+his own countrymen; otherwise it did not matter.
+
+So the fighting on the Somme went on day after day, week after week,
+persistent, desperate, bloody. It was early in August, after the
+terrific battle by which the whole of Delville Wood passed into
+British control, that Pen's battalion was relieved and sent far to the
+rear for a long rest. Even unwounded men cannot stand the strain of
+continuous battle for many weeks at a stretch. The nervous system,
+delicate and complicated, must have relief, or the physical
+organization will collapse, or the mind give way, or both.
+
+At the end of the first night's march from the front the battalion
+camped in the streets of a little, half-wrecked village on the banks
+of the Avre. Up on the hillside was a long, rambling building which
+had once been a convent but was now a hospital. Pen knew that
+somewhere in a hospital back of the Somme Aleck was still lying, too
+ill to be moved farther to the rear. It occurred to him that he might
+find him here. So, in the hazy moonlight of the August evening, having
+obtained the necessary leave, he set out to make inquiry. He passed up
+the winding walk, under a canopy of fine old trees, and reached the
+entrance to the building. From the porch, looking to the north, toward
+the valley of the Somme, he could see on the horizon the dull gleam of
+red that marked the battle line, and he could hear the faint
+reverberations of the big guns that told of the fighting still in
+progress. But here it was very quiet, very peaceful, very beautiful.
+For the first time since his entrance into the great struggle he
+longed for an end of the strife, and a return to the calm, sweet,
+lovely things of life. But he did not permit this mood to remain long
+with him. He knew that the war must go on until the spirit that
+launched it was subdued and crushed, and that he must go with it to
+whatever end God might will.
+
+He found Aleck there. He had felt that he would, and while he was
+delighted he was not greatly surprised. There was little emotion
+manifested at the meeting of the two boys. The horrors of war were too
+close and too vivid yet for that. But the fact that they were glad to
+look again into one another's eyes admitted of no doubt. Aleck had
+recovered the use of his voice, but he was still too weak to talk at
+any length. The bayonet wound in his shoulder had healed nicely, but
+his shattered knee had come terribly near to costing him his life.
+There had been infection. Amputation of the leg had been imminent. The
+surgeons and the nurses had struggled with the case for weeks and had
+finally conquered.
+
+"I shall still have two legs," said Aleck jocosely, "and I'll be glad
+of that; but I'm afraid this one will be a weak brother for a long
+time. I won't be kicking football this fall, anyway."
+
+"It's the fortune of war," replied Pen.
+
+"I know. I'm not complaining, and I'm not sorry. I've had my chance.
+I've seen war. I've fought for France. I'm satisfied."
+
+He lay back on the pillow, pale-faced, emaciated, weak; but in his
+eyes was a glow of patriotic pride in his own suffering, and pride in
+the knowledge that he had entered the fight and had fought bravely and
+well.
+
+"America ought to be proud of you," said Pen, "and of all the other
+boys from the States who have fought and suffered, and of those who
+have died in this war. I told you you'd be no coward when the time
+came to fight, and, my faith! you were not. I can see you now, with a
+smile and a wave of the hand plunging into that bloody chaos."
+
+"Thank you, comrade! I may never fight again, but I can go back home
+now and face the flag and not be ashamed."
+
+"Indeed, you can! And when will you go?"
+
+"I don't know. They'll take me across the channel as soon as I'm able
+to leave here, and then, when I can travel comfortably I suppose I'll
+be invalided home."
+
+"Well, old man, when you get there, you say to my mother and my aunt
+Milly, and my dear old grandfather Butler, that when you saw me last
+I was well, and contented, and glad to be doing my bit."
+
+"I will, Pen."
+
+"And, Aleck?"
+
+"Yes, comrade."
+
+"If you should chance to go by the school-house, and see the old flag
+waving there, give it one loving glance for me, will you?"
+
+"With all my heart!"
+
+"So, then, good-by!"
+
+"Good-by!"
+
+It was in the spacious grounds of an old French chateau not far from
+Beauvais on the river Andelle that Pen's battalion camped for their
+period of rest and recuperation. There were long, sunshiny days,
+nights of undisturbed and refreshing sleep, recreation and
+entertainment sufficient to divert tired brains, and a freedom from
+undue restraint that was most welcome. Moreover there were letters and
+parcels from home, with plenty of time to read them and to re-read
+them, to dwell upon them and to enjoy them. If the loved ones back in
+the quiet cities and villages and countryside could only realize how
+much letters and parcels from home mean to the tired bodies and
+strained nerves of the war-worn boys at the front, there would never
+be a lack of these comforts and enjoyments that go farther than
+anything else to brighten the lives and hearten the spirits of the
+soldier-heroes in the trenches and the camps.
+
+Pen had his full share of these pleasures. His mother, his Aunt
+Millicent, Colonel Butler, and even Grandpa Walker from Cobb's
+Corners, kept him supplied with news, admonition, encouragement and
+affection. And these little waves of love and commendation, rolling up
+to him at irregular intervals, were like sweet and fragrant draughts
+of life-giving air to one who for months had breathed only the smoke
+of battle and the foulness of the trenches.
+
+At the end of August, orders came for the battalion to return to the
+front. There were two days of bustling preparation, and then the
+troops entrained and were carried back to where the noise of the
+seventy-fives on the one side and the seventy-sevens on the other,
+came rumbling and thundering again to their ears, and the pall of
+smoke along the horizon marked the location of the firing line.
+
+But their destination this time was farther to the south, on the
+British right wing, where French and English soldiers touched elbows
+with each other, and Canadian and Australian fraternized in a common
+enterprise. Here again the old trench life was resumed; sentinel duty,
+daring adventures, wild charges, the shock and din of constant battle,
+brief periods of rest and recuperation. But the process of attrition
+was going on, the enemy was being pushed back, inch by inch it seemed,
+but always, eventually, back. As for Pen, he led a charmed life. Men
+fell to right of him and to left of him, and were torn into shreds at
+his back; but, save for superficial wounds, for temporary
+strangulation from gas, for momentary insensibility from shock, he was
+unharmed.
+
+It was in October, after Lieutenant Davis had been promoted to the
+captaincy, that Pen was made second lieutenant of his company. He well
+deserved the honor. There was a little celebration of the event among
+his men, for his comrades all loved him and honored him. They said it
+would not be long before he would be wearing the Victoria Cross on his
+breast. Yet few of them had been with him from the beginning. Of those
+who had landed with him upon French soil the preceding May only a
+pitifully small percentage remained. Killed, wounded, missing, one by
+one and in groups, they had dropped out, and the depleted ranks had
+been filled with new blood.
+
+In November they were sent up into the Arras sector, but in December
+they were back again in their old quarters on the Somme. And yet it
+was not their old quarters, for the British front had been advanced
+over a wide area, for many miles in length, and imperturbable Tommies
+were now smoking their pipes in many a reversed trench that had
+theretofore been occupied by gray-clad Boches. But they were not
+pleasant trenches to occupy. They were very narrow and very muddy, and
+parts of the bodies of dead men protruded here and there from their
+walls and parapets. Moreover, in December it is very cold in northern
+France, and, muffle as they would, even the boys from Canada suffered
+from the severity of the weather. They asked only to be permitted to
+keep their blood warm by aggressive action against their enemy. And,
+just before the Christmas holidays, the aggressive action they had
+longed for came.
+
+It was no great battle, no important historic event, just an incident
+in the policy of attrition which was constantly wearing away the
+German lines. An attempt was to be made to drive a wedge into the
+enemy's front at a certain vital point, and, in order to cover the
+real thrust, several feints were to be made at other places not far
+away. One of these latter expeditions had been intrusted to a part of
+Pen's battalion. At six o'clock in the afternoon the British artillery
+was to bombard the first line of enemy trenches for an hour and a
+half. Then the artillery fire was to lift to the second line, and the
+Canadian troops were to rush the first line with the bayonet, carry
+it, and when the artillery fire lifted to the third line they were to
+pass on to the second hostile trench and take and hold that for a
+sufficient length of time to divert the enemy from the point of real
+attack, and then they were to withdraw to their own lines. Permanent
+occupation of the captured trenches at the point seemed inadvisable at
+this time, if not wholly impossible.
+
+It was not a welcome task that had been assigned to these troops.
+Soldiers like to hold the ground they have won in any fight; and to
+retire after partial victory was not to their liking. But it was part
+of the game and they were content. So far as his section was concerned
+Pen assembled his men, explained the situation to them, and told them
+frankly what they were expected to do.
+
+"It's going to be a very pretty fight," he added, "probably the
+hardest tussle we've had yet. The Boches are well dug in over there,
+and they're well backed with artillery, and they're not going to give
+up those trenches without a protest. Some of us will not come back;
+and some of us who do come back will never fight again. You know that.
+But, whatever happens, Canada and the States will have no reason to
+blush for us. We're fighting in a splendid cause, and we'll do our
+part like the soldiers we are."
+
+"Aye! that we will!" "Right you are!" "Give us the chance!" "Wherever
+you lead, we follow!"
+
+It seemed as though every man in the section gave voice to his
+willingness and enthusiasm.
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Pen. "I knew you'd feel that way about it. I've
+never asked a man of you to go where I wouldn't go myself, and I never
+shall. I simply wanted to warn you that it's going to be a hot place
+over there to-night, and you must be prepared for it."
+
+"We're ready! All you've got to do is to say the word."
+
+No undue familiarity was intended; respect for their commander was in
+no degree lessened, but they loved him and would have followed him
+anywhere, and they wanted him to know it.
+
+The unusual activity in the Allied trenches, observed by enemy
+aircraft, combined with the terrific cannonading of their lines, had
+evidently convinced the enemy that some aggressive movement against
+them was in contemplation, for their artillery fire now, at seven
+o'clock, was directed squarely upon the outer lines of British
+trenches, bringing havoc and horror in the wake of the exploding
+shells.
+
+It was under this galling bombardment that the men of the second
+section adjusted their packs, buckled the last strap of their
+equipment, took firm bold of their rifles, and crouched against the
+front wall of their trench, ready for the final spring.
+
+[Illustration: Into the Face of Death He Led the Remnant of His Brave
+Platoon]
+
+At seven-thirty o'clock the order came. It was a sharp blast of a
+whistle, made by the commanding officer. The next moment, led by
+Lieutenant Butler, the men were up, sliding over the parapet, worming
+their way through gaps in their own wire entanglements, and forming in
+the semblance of a line outside. It all took but a minute, and then
+the rush toward the enemy trenches began. It seemed as though every
+gun of every calibre in the German army was let loose upon them. The
+artillery shortened its range and dropped exploding shells among them
+with dreadful effect. Machine guns mowed them down in swaths.
+Hand-grenades tore gaps in their ranks. Rifle bullets, hissing like
+hail, took terrible toll of them. Out of the blackness overhead, lit
+with the flame of explosions, fell a constant rain of metal, of clods
+of earth, of fragments of equipment, of parts of human bodies. The
+experience was wild and terrible beyond description.
+
+Pen took no note of the whining and crashing missiles about him, nor
+of the men falling on both sides of him, nor of the shrieking,
+gesticulating human beings behind him. Into the face of death, his
+eyes fixed on the curtain of fire before him, heroic and inspired, he
+led the remnant of his brave platoon. Through the gaps torn out of the
+enemy entanglements by the preliminary bombardment, and on into the
+first line of Boche entrenchments they pounded and pushed their way.
+Then came fighting indeed; hand to hand, with fixed bayonets and
+clubbed muskets and death grapples in the darkness, and everywhere,
+smearing and soaking the combatants, the blood of men. But the first
+trench, already battered into a shapeless and shallow ravine, was won.
+Canada was triumphant. The curtain of artillery fire lifted and fell
+on the enemy's third line. So, now, forward again, leaving the
+"trench cleaners" to hunt out those of the enemy who had taken
+refuge in holes and caves. Again the rain of hurtling and hissing and
+crashing steel. Human fortitude and endurance were indeed no match for
+this. Again the clubs and bayonets and wild men reaching with
+blood-smeared hands for each other's throats in the darkness.
+
+And then, to Penfield Butler, at last, came the soldier's destiny. It
+seemed as though some mighty force had struck him in the breast,
+whirled him round and round, toppled him to earth, and left him lying
+there, crushed, bleeding and unconscious. How long it was that he lay
+oblivious of the conflict he did not know. But when he awakened to
+sensibility the rush of battle had ceased. There was no fighting
+around him. He had a sense of great suffocation. He knew that he was
+spitting blood. He tried to raise his hand, and his revolver fell from
+the nerveless fingers that were still grasping it. A little later he
+raised his other hand to his breast and felt that his clothing was
+torn and soaked. He lifted his head, and in the light of an enemy
+flare he looked about him. He saw only the torn soil covered with
+crouched and sprawling bodies of the wounded and the dead, and with
+wreckage indescribable. Bullets were humming and whistling overhead,
+and spattering the ground around him. Men in the agony of their wounds
+were moaning and crying near by. He lay back and tried to think. By
+the light of the next flare he saw the rough edge of a great
+shell-hole a little way beyond him toward the British lines. In the
+darkness he tried to crawl toward it. It would be safer there than in
+this whistling cross-fire of bullets. He did not dare try to rise. He
+could not turn himself on his stomach, the pain and sense of
+suffocation were too great when he attempted it. So he pulled himself
+along in the darkness on his back to the cavity, and sought shelter
+within it. Bodies of others who had attempted to run or creep to it,
+and had been caught by Boche bullets on the way, were hanging over its
+edge. Under its protecting shoulder were many wounded, treating their
+own injuries, helping others as they could in the darkness and by the
+fitful light of the German flares. Some one, whose friendly voice was
+half familiar, yet sounded strange and far away, dragged the exhausted
+boy still farther into shelter, felt of his blood-soaked chest, and
+endeavored, awkwardly and crudely, for he himself was wounded, to give
+first aid. And then again came unconsciousness.
+
+So, in the black night, in the shell-made cavern with the pall of
+flame-streaked battle smoke hanging over it, and the whining,
+screaming missiles from guns of friend and foe weaving a curtain of
+tangled threads above it, this young soldier of the American Legion,
+his breast shot half in two, his rich blood reddening the soil of
+France, lay steeped in merciful oblivion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+When Colonel Butler declared his intention of going to New York and
+Washington to consult with his friends about the great war, to urge
+active participation in it by the United States, and to offer to the
+proper authorities, his services as a military expert and commander,
+his daughter protested vigorously. It was absurd, she declared, for
+him, at his age, to think of doing anything of the kind; utterly
+preposterous and absurd. But he would not listen to her. His mind was
+made up, and she was entirely unable to divert him from his purpose.
+
+"Then I shall go with you," she declared.
+
+"May I ask," he inquired, "what your object is in wishing to accompany
+me?"
+
+"Because you're not fit to go alone. You're too old and feeble, and
+something might happen to you."
+
+He turned on her a look of infinite scorn.
+
+"Age," he replied, "is no barrier to patriotism. A man's obligation to
+serve his country is not measured by his years. I have never been more
+capable of taking the field against an enemy of civilization than I am
+at this moment. To suggest that I am not fit to travel unless
+accompanied by a female member of my family falls little short of
+being gross disrespect. I shall go alone."
+
+Again she protested, but she was utterly unable to swerve him a hair's
+breadth from his determination and purpose. So she was obliged to see
+him start off by himself on his useless and Quixotic errand. She knew
+that he would return disappointed, saddened, doubly depressed, and ill
+both in body and mind.
+
+Since Pen's abrupt departure to seek a home with his Grandpa Walker,
+Colonel Butler had not been so obedient to his daughter's wishes. He
+had changed in many respects. He had grown old, white-haired, feeble
+and despondent. He was often ill at ease, and sometimes morose. That
+he grieved over the boy's absence there was not a shadow of doubt. Yet
+he would not permit the first suggestion of a reconciliation that did
+not involve the humble application of his grandson to be forgiven and
+taken back. But such an application was not made. The winter days went
+by, spring blossomed into summer, season followed season, and not yet
+had the master of Bannerhall seen coming down the long, gray road to
+the old home the figure of a sorrowful and suppliant boy.
+
+When the world war began, his mind was diverted to some extent from
+his sorrow. From the beginning his sympathies had been with the
+Allies. Old soldier that he was he could not denounce with sufficient
+bitterness the spirit of militarism that seemed to have run rampant
+among the Central Powers. At the invasion of Belgium and at the
+mistreatment of her people, especially of her women and children, at
+the bombardment of the cathedral of Rheims, at the sinking of the
+_Lusitania_, at the execution of Edith Cavell, at all the outrages of
+which German militarism was guilty, he grew more and more indignant
+and denunciatory. His sense of fairness, his spirit of chivalry, his
+ideas of honorable warfare and soldierly conduct were inexpressibly
+shocked. The murder of sleeping women and children in country villages
+by the dropping of bombs from airships, the suffocation of brave
+soldiers by the use of deadly gases, the hurling of liquid fire into
+the ranks of a civilized enemy; these things stirred him to the
+depths. He talked of the war by day, he dreamed of it at night. He
+chafed bitterly at the apparent attempt of the Government at
+Washington to preserve the neutrality of this country against the most
+provoking wrongs. It was our war, he declared, as much as it was the
+war of any nation in Europe, and it was our duty to get into it for
+the sake of humanity, at the earliest possible moment and at any cost.
+His intense feeling and profound conviction in the matter led finally
+to his determination to make the trip to New York and Washington in
+order to present his views and make his recommendations, and to offer
+his services in person, in quarters where he believed they would be
+welcomed and acted on. So he went on what appeared to his daughter to
+be the most preposterous errand he had ever undertaken.
+
+He returned even sooner than she had expected him to come. In response
+to his telegram she sent the carriage to the station to meet him on
+the arrival of the afternoon train. When she heard the rumbling of the
+wheels outside she went to the door, knowing that it would require her
+best effort to cheerfully welcome the disappointed, dejected and
+enfeebled old man. Then she had the surprise of her life. Colonel
+Butler alighted from the carriage and mounted the porch steps with the
+elasticity of youth. He was travel-stained and weary, indeed; but his
+face, from which half the wrinkles seemed to have disappeared, was
+beaming with happiness. He kissed his daughter, and, with
+old-fashioned courtesy, conducted her to a porch chair. In her mind
+there could be but one explanation for his extraordinary appearance
+and conduct; the purpose of his journey had been accomplished and his
+last absurd wish had been gratified.
+
+"I suppose," she said, with a sigh, "they have agreed to adopt your
+plans, and take you back into the army."
+
+"Into the what, my dear?"
+
+"Into the army. Didn't you go to Washington for the purpose of getting
+back into service?"
+
+"Why, yes. I believe I did. Pardon me, but, in view of matters of much
+greater importance, the result of this particular effort had slipped
+my mind."
+
+"Matters of greater importance?"
+
+"Yes. I was about to inform you that while I was in New York I
+unexpectedly ran across my grandson, Master Penfield Butler."
+
+She sat up with a look of surprise and apprehension in her eyes.
+
+"Ran across Pen? What was he doing there?"
+
+"He was on his way to Canada to join those forces of the Dominion
+Government which will eventually sail for France, and help to free
+that unhappy country from the heel of the barbarian."
+
+"You mean--?"
+
+"I mean that Penfield was to enlist, has doubtless now already
+enlisted, with the Canadian troops which, after a period of drilling
+at home, will enter the war on the firing line in northern France."
+
+"Well, for goodness sake!" It was all that Aunt Millicent could say,
+and when she had said that she practically collapsed.
+
+"Yes," he rejoined, "he felt as did I, that the time had come for
+American citizens, both old and young, with red blood in their veins,
+to spill that blood, if necessary, in fighting for the liberty of the
+world. Patriotism, duty, the spirit of his ancestors, called him, and
+he has gone."
+
+Colonel Butler was radiant. His eyes were aglow with enthusiasm. His
+own recommendations for national conduct had gone unheeded indeed, and
+his own offer of military service had been civilly declined; but these
+facts were of small moment compared with the proud knowledge that a
+young scion of his race was about to carry the family traditions and
+prestige into the battle front of the greatest war for liberty that
+the world had ever known.
+
+In Pen's second letter home from Canada he told of the arrival and
+enlistment of Aleck Sands, and of the complete blotting out of the old
+feud that had existed between them. Later on he wrote them, in many
+letters, all about his barrack life, and of how contented and happy he
+was, and how eagerly he was looking forward to the day when he and his
+comrades should cross the water to those countries where the great war
+was a reality. The letter that he wrote the day before he sailed was
+filled with the brightness of enthusiasm and the joy of anticipation.
+And while the long period of drill on English soil became somewhat
+irksome to him, as one reading between the lines could readily
+discover, he made no direct complaint. It was simply a part of the
+game. But it was when he had reached the front, and his letters
+breathed the sternness of the conflict and echoed the thunder of the
+guns, that he was at his best in writing. Mere salutations some of
+them were, written from the trenches by the light of a dug-out candle,
+but they pulsated with patriotism and heroism and a determination to
+live up to the best traditions of a soldier's career.
+
+Colonel Butler devoured every scrap of news that came from the front
+in the half dozen papers that he read daily. He kept in close touch
+with the international situation, he fumed constantly at the
+inactivity of his own government in view of her state of
+unpreparedness for a war into which she must sooner or later be
+inevitably plunged. He lost all patience with what he considered the
+timidity of the President, and what he called the stupidity of
+congress. Was not the youngest and the reddest and the best of the
+Butler blood at the fighting line, ready at any moment to be spilled
+to the death on the altar of the world's liberty? Why then should the
+government of the United States sit supinely by and see the finest
+young manhood of her own and other lands fighting and perishing in the
+cause of humanity when, by voicing the conscience of her people, and
+declaring and making war on the Central Powers, she could most
+effectually aid in bringing to a speedy and victorious end this
+monstrous example of modern barbarism? Why, indeed!
+
+One day Colonel Butler suggested to his daughter that she go up to
+Lowbridge and again inquire whether Pen's mother had any needs of any
+kind that he could possibly supply.
+
+"And," he added, "I wish you to invite her to Bannerhall for a visit
+of indefinite duration. In these trying and critical times my
+daughter-in-law's place is in the ancestral home of her deceased
+husband."
+
+Aunt Millicent, delighted with the purport of her mission, went up to
+Lowbridge and extended the invitation, and, with all the eloquence at
+her command, urged its acceptance. But Sarah Butler was unyielding and
+would not come. She had been wounded too deeply in years gone by.
+
+So spring came, and blade, leaf and flower sprang into beautiful and
+rejoicing existence. No one had ever before seen the orchard trees so
+superbly laden with blossoms. No one had ever before seen a brighter
+promise of a more bountiful season. And the country was still at
+peace, enriching herself with a mintage coined of blood and sorrow
+abroad, though drifting aimlessly and ever closer to the verge of
+war.
+
+There was a time early in July when, for two weeks, no letter came
+from Pen. The suspense was almost unbearable. For days Colonel Butler
+haunted the post-office. His self-assurance left him, his confident
+and convincing voice grew weak, a haunting fear of what news might
+come was with him night and day.
+
+At last he received a letter from abroad. It was from Pen, addressed
+in his own hand-writing. The colonel himself took it from his box at
+the post-office in the presence of a crowd of his neighbors and
+friends awaiting the distribution of their mail. It was scrawled in
+pencil on paper that had never been intended to be used for
+correspondence purposes.
+
+Pen had just learned, he wrote, that the messenger who carried a
+former letter from the trenches for him had been killed en route by an
+exploding shell, and the contents of his mail pouch scattered and
+destroyed. Moreover he had been very busy. Fighting had been brisk,
+there had been a good many casualties in his company, but he himself,
+save for some superficial wounds received on the Fourth of July, was
+unhurt and reasonably well.
+
+    "I am sorry to report, however," the letter continued, "that my
+    comrade, Aleck Sands, has been severely wounded. We were engaged
+    in a brisk assault on the enemy's lines on the Fourth of July, and
+    captured some of their trenches. During the engagement Aleck
+    received a bayonet wound in the shoulder, and a badly battered
+    knee. I was able to help him off the field and to an ambulance. I
+    believe he is somewhere now in a hospital not far to the rear of
+    us. I mean to see him soon if I can find out where he is and get
+    leave. Tell his folks that he fought like a hero. I never saw a
+    braver man in battle.
+
+    "You will be glad to learn that since the engagement on the fourth
+    I have been made a sergeant, 'for conspicuous bravery in action,'
+    the order read.
+
+    "I suppose the flag is flying on the school-house staff these
+    days. How I would like to see it. If I could only see the Stars
+    and Stripes over here, and our own troops under it, I should be
+    perfectly happy. The longer I fight here the more I'm convinced
+    that the cause we're fighting for is a just and glorious one, and
+    the more willing I am to die for it.
+
+    "Give my dear love to Aunt Milly. I have just written to mother.
+
+      "Your affectionate grandson,
+        "Penfield Butler."
+
+
+Colonel Butler looked up from the reading with moist eyes and glowing
+face, to find a dozen of his townsmen who knew that the letter had
+come, waiting to hear news from Pen.
+
+"On Independence Day," said the colonel, in answer to their inquiries,
+"he participated in a gallant and bloody assault on the enemy's lines,
+in which many trenches were taken. Save for superficial wounds, easily
+healed in the young and vigorous, he came out of the melee unscathed."
+
+"Good for him!" exclaimed one.
+
+"Bravo!" shouted another.
+
+"And, gentlemen," the colonel's voice rose and swelled moderately as
+he proceeded, "I am proud to say that, following that engagement, my
+grandson, for conspicuous bravery in action, was promoted to the rank
+of sergeant in the colonial troops of Great Britain."
+
+"Splendid!"
+
+"He's the boy!"
+
+"We're proud of him!"
+
+The colonel's eyes were flashing now; his head was erect, his one hand
+was thrust into the bosom of his waistcoat.
+
+"I thank you, gentlemen!" he said, "on behalf of my grandson. To pass
+inherited patriotism from father to son, from generation to
+generation, and to see it find its perfect fulfillment in the latest
+scion of the race, is to live in the golden age, gentlemen, and to
+partake of the fountain of youth."
+
+His voice quavered a little at the end, and he waited for a moment to
+recover it, and possibly to give his eloquence an opportunity to sink
+in more deeply, and then he continued:
+
+"I regret to say, gentlemen, that in the fierce engagement of the
+fourth instant, my grandson's gallant comrade, Master Alexander Sands,
+was severely wounded both in the shoulder and the knee, and is now
+somewhere in a hospital in northern France, well back of the lines,
+recuperating from his injuries. I shall communicate this information
+at once to his parents, together with such encouragement as is
+contained in my grandson's letter."
+
+Proud as a king, he turned from the sympathetic group, entered his
+carriage and was driven toward Chestnut Valley.
+
+It was late in September when Aleck Sands came home. The family at
+Bannerhall, augmented within the last year by the addition of Colonel
+Butler's favorite niece, was seated at the supper table one evening
+when Elmer Cuddeback, now grown into a fine, stalwart youth, hurried
+in to announce the arrival.
+
+"I happened to be at the station when Aleck came," he said. "He looked
+like a skeleton and a ghost rolled into one. He couldn't walk at all,
+and he was just able to talk. But he said he'd been having a fine time
+and was feeling bully. Isn't that nerve for you?"
+
+"Splendid!" exclaimed the colonel, holding his napkin high in the air
+in his excitement. "A marvelous young man! I shall do myself the honor
+to call on him in person to-morrow morning, and compliment him on his
+bravery, and congratulate him on his escape from mortal injury."
+
+He was as good as his word. He and his daughter both went down to
+Cherry Valley and called on Aleck Sands. He was lying propped up in
+bed, attended by a thankful and devoted mother, trying to give rest to
+a tired and irritated body, and to enjoy once more the sights and
+sounds of home. He was too weak to do much talking, but almost his
+first words were an anxious inquiry about Pen. They told him what they
+knew.
+
+"He came to see me at the hospital in August," said Aleck. "It was
+like a breeze from heaven. If he doesn't come back here alive and well
+at the end of this war, with the Victoria Cross on his breast, I shall
+be ashamed to go out on the street; he is so much the braver soldier
+and the better man of the two of us."
+
+"He has written to us," said the colonel, and his eyes were moist, and
+his voice choked a little as he spoke, "that you, yourself, in the
+matter of courage in battle, upheld the best traditions of American
+bravery, and I am proud of you, sir, as are all of your townsmen."
+
+The colonel would have remained to listen to further commendation of
+his grandson, and to discuss with one who had actually been on the
+fighting line, the conditions under which the war was being waged;
+but his daughter, seeing that the boy needed rest, brought the visit
+to a speedy close.
+
+"Give my love to Pen when you write to him," said Aleck, as he bade
+them good-by; "the bravest soldier--and the dearest comrade--that ever
+carried a gun."
+
+After the winter holidays a week went by with no letter from Pen. The
+colonel began to grow anxious, but it was not until the end of the
+second week that he really became alarmed. And when three weeks had
+gone by, and neither the mails nor the cable nor the wireless had
+brought any news of the absent soldier, Colonel Butler was on the
+verge of despair. He had haunted the post-office as before, he had
+made inquiry at the state department at Washington, he had telegraphed
+to Canada for information, but nothing came of it all. Aleck Sands had
+heard absolutely nothing. Pen's mother, almost beside herself,
+telephoned every day to Bannerhall for news, and received none. The
+strain of apprehensive waiting became almost unbearable for them all.
+
+One day, unable longer to withstand the heart-breaking tension, the
+old patriot sent an agent post-haste to Toronto, with instructions to
+spare no effort and no expense in finding out what had become of his
+grandson.
+
+Three days later, from his agent came a telegram reading as follows:
+
+    "Lieutenant Butler in hospital near Rouen. Wound severe. Suffering
+    now from pneumonia. Condition serious but still hopeful. Details
+    by letter."
+
+This telegram was received at Bannerhall in the morning. In the early
+afternoon of the same day Pen's mother received a letter written three
+weeks earlier by his nurse at the hospital. She was an American girl
+who had been long in France, and who, from the beginning of the war,
+had given herself whole-heartedly to the work at the hospitals.
+
+    "Do not be unduly alarmed," she wrote, "he is severely wounded;
+    evidently a hand-grenade exploded against his breast; but if we
+    are able to ward off pneumonia he will recover. He has given me
+    your name and address, and wished me to write. I think an early
+    and cheerful letter from you would be a great comfort to him, and
+    I hope he will be able to appreciate some gifts and dainties from
+    home by the time they could reach here. Let me add that he is a
+    model patient, quiet and uncomplaining, and I am told that he was
+    among the bravest of all the brave Americans fighting with the
+    Canadian forces on the Somme."
+
+Between Bannerhall and Sarah Butler's home at Lowbridge the telephone
+lines were busy that day. It was a relief to all of them to know that
+Pen was living and being cared for; it was a source of apprehension
+and grief to them that his condition, as intimated in the telegram,
+was still so critical.
+
+As for Colonel Butler he was in a fever of excitement and distress.
+Late in the afternoon he went to his room and, with his one hand,
+began, hastily and confusedly, to pack a small steamer trunk. His
+daughter found him so occupied.
+
+"What in the world are you doing?" she asked him.
+
+"I am preparing to go to Rouen," he replied, "to see that my grandson
+is cared for in his illness in a manner due to one who has placed his
+life in jeopardy for France."
+
+"Father, stand up! Look at me! Listen to me!" The very essence of
+determination was in her voice and manner, and he obeyed her. "You are
+not to stir one step from this town. Sarah Butler and I are going to
+France to be with Pen; we have talked it over and decided on it; and
+you are going to stay right here at Bannerhall, where you can be of
+supreme service to us, instead of burdening us with your company."
+
+He looked at her steadily for a moment, but he saw only rigid
+resolution and determination in her eyes; he was too unstrung and
+broken to protest, or to insist on his right as head of the house, and
+so--he yielded. Later in the day, however, a compromise was effected.
+It was agreed that he should accompany his daughter and his
+daughter-in-law to New York, aid them in securing passage, passports
+and credentials, and see them safely aboard ship for their perilous
+journey, after which he was to return home and spend the time quietly
+with his niece Eleanor, and make necessary preparations for the
+return of the invalid, later on, to Bannerhall.
+
+He carried out his part of the New York program in good faith, and had
+the satisfaction, three days later, of bidding the two women good-by
+on the deck of a French liner bound for Havre. He had no apprehension
+concerning the fitness of his daughter to go abroad unaccompanied save
+by her sister-in-law. She had been with him on three separate trips to
+the continent, and, in his judgment, for a woman, she had displayed
+marked traveling ability. His only fear was of German submarines.
+
+"A most cowardly, dastardly, uncivilized way," he declared, "of waging
+war upon an enemy's women and children."
+
+He was in good spirits as the vessel sailed. His parting words to his
+daughter were:
+
+"If you should have occasion to discuss with our friends in France the
+attitude of this nation toward the war, you may say that it is my
+opinion that the conscience of the country is now awake, and that
+before long we shall be shoulder to shoulder with them in the
+destruction of barbarism."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+For twenty-five years there has stood, in one of the faubourgs of
+Rouen, not far from the right bank of the Seine, a long two-story
+brick building, with a wing reaching back to the base of the hill. Up
+to the year 1915 it was used as a factory for the making of silk
+ribbons. Rouen had been a center of the cotton manufacturing industry
+from time immemorial. Why therefore should not the making of silk be
+added? It was added, and the enterprise grew and became prosperous.
+Then came the war, vast, terrible, bringing in its train suffering,
+poverty, a drastic curtailment of all the luxuries of life. Silk
+ribbons are a luxury; they go with soft living. So, then; _voila
+tout!_ Before the end of the first year of the conflict the factory
+was transformed into a hospital. The clatter of looms and the chatter
+of girls gave place to the moanings of sick and wounded men, and the
+gentle voices of white and blue clad nurses. It was no longer bales
+of raw silk that were carted up to the big doors of the factory, and
+boxes of rolled ribbon that were trundled down the drive to the
+street, to the warehouses, and thence to the admiring eyes of
+beauty-loving women. The human freight that was brought to the big
+doors in these days consisted of the pierced and mutilated bodies of
+men; soldiers for whom the final taps would soon sound. If they
+chanced to be of the British troops, and held fast to the spark of
+life within them, then they were close enough to the seaport to be
+taken across the channel for final convalescence under English skies.
+
+It was to this hospital that Lieutenant Penfield Butler was brought
+from the battlefield of the Somme. His battalion had done the work
+assigned to it in the fight, had done it well, and had withdrawn to
+its trenches, leaving a third of its men dead or wounded between the
+lines. Later on, under cover of a galling artillery fire, rescue
+parties had gone out to bring in the wounded. They had found Pen in
+the shelter of the shell-hole, still unconscious. They had brought him
+back across the fire-swept field, and down through the winding,
+narrow trenches, to the first-aid station, from which, after a hurried
+examination and superficial treatment of his wounds, he was taken in a
+guard-car to a field hospital in the rear of the lines. But space in
+these field hospitals is too precious to permit of wounded men who can
+be moved without fatal results, remaining in them for long periods.
+The stream of newcomers is too constant and too pressing. So, after
+five days, Pen was sent, by way of Amiens, to the hospital in the
+suburbs of Rouen. He, himself, knew little of where he was or of what
+was being done for him. A bullet had grazed his right arm, and a
+clubbed musket or revolver had laid his scalp open to the bone. But
+these were slight injuries in comparison with the awful wound in his
+breast. Torn flesh, shattered bones, pierced lungs, these things left
+life hanging by the slenderest thread. When the _medecin-chef_ of the
+hospital near Rouen took his first look at the boy after his arrival,
+he had him put under the influence of an anaesthetic in order that he
+could the more readily and effectively examine, probe and dress the
+wound, and remove any irritating splinters of bone that might be the
+cause of the continuous leakage from the lungs. But when he had
+finished his delicate and strenuous task he turned to the nurse at his
+side and gave a hopeless shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders.
+
+"_Fichu!_" he said; "_le laisser tranquille_."
+
+"But I am not going to let him die," she replied; "he is too young,
+too handsome, too brave, and _he is an American_."
+
+He smiled, shook his head again and passed on to the next case. The
+girl was an American too, and these American nurses were always so
+optimistic, so faithfully persistent, she might pull him through,
+but--the smile of incredulity still lay on the lips of the
+_medecin-chef_.
+
+The next day the young soldier was better. The leakage had not yet
+wholly ceased; but the wound was apparently beginning to heal. He was
+still dazed, and his pain was still too severe to be endured without
+opiates. It was five days later that he came fully to his senses, was
+able to articulate, and to frame intelligent sentences. He indicated
+to his nurse, Miss Byron, that he wished to have his mother written
+to.
+
+"No especial message," he whispered, "just that I am here--have been
+wounded--recovering."
+
+But the nurse had already learned from other men of Pen's company,
+less seriously wounded than he, who were at the same hospital,
+something about the boy's desperate bravery, and how his stern
+fighting qualities were combined with great tenderness of heart and a
+most loving disposition, and she could not avoid putting an echo of it
+in her letter to his mother.
+
+Later on Pen developed symptoms of pneumonia, a disease that follows
+so often on an injury to the structure of the lungs.
+
+When the _medecin-chef_ came and noted the increase in temperature and
+the decrease in vitality, he looked grave. Every day, with true French
+courtesy, he had congratulated Miss Byron on her remarkable success in
+nursing the young American back to life. But now, perhaps, after all,
+the efforts of both of them would be wasted. Pneumonia is a hard foe
+to fight when it attacks wounded lungs. So an English physician was
+called in and joined with the French surgeon and the American nurse to
+combat the dreaded enemy. It seemed, somehow, as if each of them felt
+that the honor of his or her country was at stake in this battle with
+disease and death across that hospital bed in the old factory near
+Rouen.
+
+It was late in February when Pen's mother and his Aunt Millicent
+reached Havre, and took the next available train up to Rouen. They had
+not heard from Pen since sailing, and they were almost beside
+themselves with anxiety and apprehension. But the telephone service
+between the city and its faubourgs is excellent, Aunt Millicent could
+speak French with comparative fluency, and it was not many minutes
+after their arrival before they had obtained connection with the
+hospital and were talking with Miss Byron.
+
+"He is very ill," she said, "but we feel that the crisis of his
+disease has passed, and we hope for his recovery."
+
+So, then, he was still living, and there was hope. In the early
+twilight of the winter evening the two women rode out to the suburban
+town and went up to the hospital to see him. He did not open his eyes,
+nor recognize them in any way, he did not even know that they were
+with him.
+
+"There have been many complications of the illness from his wound,"
+said the nurse; "double pneumonia, typhoid symptoms, and what not; we
+dared not hope for him for a while, but we feel now that perhaps the
+worst is over. He has made a splendid fight for his life," she added;
+"he deserves to win. And he is the favorite of the hospital. Every one
+loves him. The first question all my patients ask me when I make my
+first round for the day is 'How is the young American lieutenant this
+morning?' Oh, if good wishes and genuine affection can keep him with
+us, he will stay."
+
+So, with tear-wet faces, grateful yet still anxious, the two women
+left him for the night and sought hospitality at a modest _pension_ in
+the neighborhood of the hospital.
+
+But a precious life still hung in the balance. As he had lain for many
+days, so the young soldier continued to lie, for many days to come,
+apparently without thought or vitality, save that those who watched
+him could catch now and then a low murmur from his lips, and could see
+the faint rise and fall of his scarred and bandaged breast.
+
+Then, so slowly that it seemed to those who looked lovingly on that
+ages were going by, he began definitely to mend. He could open his
+eyes, and move his head and hands, and he seemed to grasp, by degrees,
+the fact that his mother and his Aunt Millicent were often sitting at
+his bedside. But when he tried to speak his tongue would not obey his
+will.
+
+One day, when he awakened from a refreshing sleep, he seemed brighter
+and stronger than he had been at any time before. The two women whom
+he most loved were sitting on opposite sides of his cot, and his
+devoted and delighted nurse stood near by, smiling down on him. He
+smiled back up at each of them in turn, but he made no attempt to
+speak. He seemed to know that he had not yet the power of
+articulation.
+
+His cot, in an alcove at the end of the main aisle, was so placed
+that, when the curtains were drawn aside, he could, at will, look
+down the long rows of beds where once the looms had clattered, and
+watch wan faces, and recumbent forms under the white spreads, and
+nurses, some garbed in white, and some in blue, and some in more sober
+colors, moving gently about among the sufferers in performance of
+their thrice-blest and most angelic tasks. It was there that he was
+looking now, and the two women at his bedside who were watching him,
+saw that his eyes were fixed, with strange intensity, on some object
+in the distance. They turned to see what it was. To their utter
+astonishment and dismay they discovered, marching up the aisle,
+accompanied by an _infirmiere_, Colonel Richard Butler. Whence, when,
+and how he had come, they knew not. He stopped at the entrance to the
+alcove, and held up his hand as though demanding silence. And there
+was silence. No one spoke or stirred. He looked down at Pen who lay,
+still speechless, staring up at him in surprise and delight.
+
+Into the colonel's glowing face there came a look of tenderness, of
+rapt sympathy, of exultant pride, that those who saw it will never
+forget.
+
+He stepped lightly forward and took Pen's limp hand in his and pressed
+it gently.
+
+"God bless you, my boy!" he said.
+
+No one had ever heard Richard Butler say "God bless you" before, and
+no one ever heard him say it again. But when he said it that day to
+the dark-haired, white faced, war-worn soldier on the cot in the
+hospital near Rouen, the words came straight from a big, and brave,
+and tender heart.
+
+He laid Pen's hand slowly back on the counterpane, and then he parted
+his white moustache, as he had done that night at the hotel in New
+York, and bent over and kissed the boy's forehead. It may have been
+the rapture of the kiss that did it; God knows; but at that moment
+Pen's tongue was loosened, his lips parted, and he cried out:
+
+"Grandfather!"
+
+With a judgment and a self-denial rare among men, the colonel answered
+the boy's greeting with another gentle hand-clasp, and a beneficent
+smile, and turned and marched proudly and gratefully back down the
+long aisle, stopping here and there to greet some sick soldier who had
+given him a friendly look or smile, until he stood in the open doorway
+and lifted up his eyes to gaze on the blue line of distant hills
+across the Seine.
+
+Later, when the two women came to him, and he went with them to the
+_pension_ where they were staying, he explained to them the cause of
+his sudden and unheralded appearance. He had received their cablegrams
+indeed; but these, instead of serving to allay his anxiety, had made
+it only the more acute. To wait now for letters was impossible. His
+patience was utterly exhausted. He could no more have remained quietly
+at home than he could have shut up his eyes and ears and mouth and
+lain quietly down to die. The call that came to him from the bed of
+his beloved grandson in France, that sounded in his ears day-time and
+night-time as he paced the floors of Bannerhall, was too insistent and
+imperious to be resisted. Against the vigorous protests of his niece,
+and the timid remonstrances of the few friends who were made aware of
+his purpose, he put himself in readiness to sail on the next
+out-going steamer that would carry him to his longed-for destination.
+And it was only after he had boarded the vessel, and had felt the slow
+movement of the ship as she was warped out into the stream, that he
+became contented, comfortable, thoroughly at ease in body and mind,
+and ready to await patiently whatever might come to him at the end of
+his journey.
+
+So it was in good health and spirits that he landed at Havre, came up
+to Rouen, and made his way to the hospital.
+
+And for once in her life his daughter did not chide him. Instinctively
+she felt the power of the great tenderness and yearning in his breast
+that had impelled him to come, and, so far as any word of disapproval
+was concerned, she was silent.
+
+He talked much about Pen. He asked what they had learned concerning
+his bravery in battle, the manner in which he had received his wounds,
+the nature of his long illness, and the probability of his continued
+convalescence.
+
+"I hope," said Pen's mother, "that I shall be able to take him back
+to Lowbridge next month."
+
+The old man looked up in surprise and alarm.
+
+"To Lowbridge?" he said, and added: "Not to Lowbridge, Sarah Butler.
+My grandson will return to Bannerhall, the home of his ancestors."
+
+"Colonel Butler, my son's home is with me."
+
+"And your home," replied the colonel, "is with me. My son's widow must
+no longer live under any other roof than mine. The day of estrangement
+has fully passed. You will find welcome and affection, and, I hope, an
+abundance of happiness at Bannerhall."
+
+She did not answer him; she could not. Nor did he demand an answer. He
+seemed to take it for granted that his wish in the matter would be
+complied with, and his will obeyed. But it was not until his daughter
+Millicent, by much argument and persuasion, through many days, had
+convinced her that her place was with them, that her son's welfare and
+his grandfather's length of days depended on both mother and son
+complying with Colonel Butler's wish and demand, that she consented
+to blot out the past and to go to live at Bannerhall.
+
+It was on the second day of April, 1917, that the President of the
+United States read his world famous message to Congress, asking that
+body to "declare the recent course of the Imperial German Government
+to be in fact nothing less than war against the Government and people
+of the United States" and to "employ all of its resources to bring the
+Government of Germany to terms and to end the war."
+
+And it was on the third day of April that Colonel Richard Butler,
+walking up the long aisle of the war hospital near Rouen in the late
+afternoon, smiled and nodded to right and left and said:
+
+"At last we are with you; we are with you. America has answered the
+call of her conscience, she will now come into her own."
+
+And they smiled back at him, did these worn and broken men, for the
+news of the President's declaration had already filtered through the
+wards; and they waved their hands to the brave American colonel with
+the white moustache, stern visage, and tender heart, and in sturdy
+English and voluble French and musical Italian, they congratulated him
+and his noble grandson, and the charming ladies of his family, on the
+splendid words of his President, to which words the patriotic Congress
+would surely respond.
+
+And Congress did respond. The Senate on April 4, and the House on
+April 6, by overwhelming majorities, passed a resolution in full
+accordance with the President's recommendation, declaring that a state
+of war had been thrust upon the United States by the German
+government, and authorizing and directing the President "to employ the
+entire naval and military forces of the United States, and the
+resources of the government, to carry on war against the Imperial
+German government."
+
+Colonel Richard Butler was at last content.
+
+"I am proud of my country," he declared, "and of my President and
+Congress. I have cabled the congressman from my district to tender my
+congratulations to Mr. Wilson, and to offer my services anew in
+whatever capacity my government can use them."
+
+If he had favored the Allied cause before going abroad he was now
+thrice the partisan that he had been. For he had seen France. He had
+seen her, bled white in her heroic endeavor to drive the invader from
+her soil. He had seen her ruined homes, and cities, and temples of
+art. He had seen her women and her aged fathers and her young children
+doing the work of her able-bodied men who were on the fighting line,
+replacing those hundreds of thousands who were lying in heroes'
+graves. He had been, by special favor, taken to the front, where he
+had seen the still grimmer visage of war, had caught a glimpse of life
+in the trenches, of death on the field, and had heard the sweep and
+the rattle and the roar of unceasing conflict. And in his eyes and
+voice as he walked up and down the aisles of the hospital near Rouen,
+or sat at the bedside of his grandson, was always a reflection of
+these things that he himself had seen and heard.
+
+And he was a favorite in the wards. Not alone because he so often came
+with his one arm laden with little material things to cheer and
+comfort them, but because these men with the pierced and broken and
+mutilated bodies admired and liked him. Whenever they saw the familiar
+figure, tall, soldierly, the sternly benevolent countenance with its
+white moustache and kindling eyes, enter at the hospital doors and
+walk up between the long rows of cots, their faces would light up with
+pleasure and admiration, and the friendliness of their greetings would
+be hearty and unalloyed.
+
+Somehow they seemed to look upon him as the symbol and representative
+of his country, the very embodiment of the spirit of his own United
+States. And now that his government had definitely entered into the
+war, he was in their eyes, thrice the hero and the benefactor that he
+had been before.
+
+When he entered the hospital the morning after news of America's war
+declaration had been received, and turned to march up the aisle toward
+his grandson's alcove, he was surprised and delighted to see from
+every cot in the ward, and from every nurse on the floor, a hand
+thrust up holding a tiny American flag. It was the hospital's greeting
+to the American colonel, in honor of his country. He stood, for a
+moment, thrilled and amazed. The demonstration struck so deeply into
+his big and patriotic heart that his voice choked and his eyes filled
+with tears as he passed up the long aisle.
+
+There were many greetings as he went by.
+
+"Hurrah for the President!"
+
+"Vive l'Amerique!"
+
+And one deep-throated Briton, in a voice that rolled from end to end
+of the ward shouted:
+
+"God bless the United States!"
+
+[Illustration: The French Hospital's Greeting To the American Colonel]
+
+But perhaps no one was more rejoiced over the fact of America's
+entrance into the war than was Penfield Butler. From the moment when
+he heard the news of the President's message he seemed to take on new
+life. And as each day's paper recorded the developing movements, and
+the almost universal sentiment of the American people in sustaining
+the government at Washington, his pulses thrilled, color came into his
+blanched face, and new light into eyes that not long before had looked
+for many weeks at material things and had seen them not.
+
+He was sitting up in his bed that morning, and had seen his
+grandfather come up the aisle amid the forest of little flags and the
+sound of cheering voices.
+
+Grouped around him were' his mother, his Aunt Millicent, the
+_medecin-chef_, and his devoted nurse, the American girl, Miss Byron.
+She was waving a small, silk American flag that had long been one of
+her cherished possessions.
+
+"We are so proud of America to-day, Colonel Butler," she exclaimed,
+"that we can't help cheering and waving flags."
+
+And the _medecin-chef_ shouted joyously:
+
+"_A la bonne heure, mon Colonel!_"
+
+Pen, looking on with glowing eyes and cheeks flushed with enthusiasm,
+called out:
+
+"Grandfather, isn't it glorious? If I could only fight it all over
+again, now, under my own American flag!"
+
+Colonel Butler's face had never before been so radiant, his eyes so
+tender, or his voice so vibrant with emotion as when standing on the
+raised edge of the alcove, he replied:
+
+"On behalf of my beloved country, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you.
+She has taken her rightful place on the side of humanity. Her flag,
+splendid and spotless, floats, to-day, side by side with the tri-color
+and the Union Jack, over the manhood of nations united to save the
+world from bondage and barbarism."
+
+He faced the _medecin-chef_ and continued: "Your cry to us to 'come
+over into Macedonia and help' you, shall no longer go unheeded. Our
+wealth, our brains, our brawn shall be poured into your country as
+freely as water, to aid you in bringing the German tyrant to his
+knees, and, as our great President has said: 'To make the world safe
+for democracy.'"
+
+He turned toward the rapt faces of the listening scores who lined the
+wards: "And men, my brothers, I say to you that you have not fought
+and suffered in vain. We shall win this war; and out of our great
+victory shall come that thousand years of peace foretold by holy men
+of old, in which your flag, and yours, and yours, and mine, floating
+over the heads of freemen in each beloved land, will be the most
+inspiring, the most beautiful, the most splendid thing on which the
+sun's rays shall ever fall."
+
+
+
+
+Short Historical Sketch of the United States Flag
+
+
+After the war of the Revolution, it became necessary for the newly
+formed United States of America to devise a symbol, representing their
+freedom. During the war the different colonies had displayed various
+flags, but no national emblem had been selected. The American
+Congress, consequently, on the 14th of June, 1777, passed the
+following Resolution:
+
+    "Resolved, That the flag of the thirteen united states shall be
+    thirteen stripes, alternate red and white, that the union be
+    thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new
+    constellation."
+
+Betsy Ross, an upholsterer, living at 239 Arch Street, Philadelphia,
+Pa., had the honor of making the first flag for the new republic. The
+little house where she lived is still standing, and preserved as a
+memorial. This flag contained the thirteen stripes as at present, but
+the stars were arranged in a circle. This arrangement was later
+changed to horizontal lines, and the flag continued to have thirteen
+stars and thirteen stripes until 1795. When Vermont and Kentucky were
+added to the Union, two more stripes, as well as two more stars, were
+added. In 1817, it was seen that it would not be practicable to add a
+new stripe for each new state admitted to the Union, so after
+deliberation, Congress, in 1818, passed the following Act:
+
+    "An Act to establish the flag of the United States.
+
+    "Sec. 1. That from and after the 4th of July next, the flag of the
+    United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternate red and
+    white--that the Union have twenty stars, white in a blue field.
+
+    "Sec. 2. Be it further enacted, that on the admission of every new
+    State into the Union, one star be added to the Union of the flag,
+    and that such addition shall take effect on the 4th of July next
+    succeeding such admission."
+
+Since the passing of this Act, star after star has been added to the
+blue field until it now contains forty-eight, each one representing a
+staunch and loyal adherent.
+
+
+
+
+Boy Scouts Pledge to the Flag
+
+
+"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the Republic for which it
+stands; one nation indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flag, by Homer Greene
+
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