ure, but with eyes anywhere but to the front; groups lying on the
ground, chewing blades of bluegrass, watching pretty girls pass, and
lounging lazily; groups to one side, but by no means out of sight,
throwing dice or playing "craps"--the game dear to the darkey's heart.
On the outskirts were guards to gently challenge the visitor, but not
very stern sentinels were they. As Crittenden drove in, he saw one
pacing a shady beat with a girl on his arm. And later, as he stood by
his buggy, looking around with an amused sense of the playful contrast
it all was to what he had seen at Chickamauga, he saw another sentinel
brought to a sudden halt by a surprised exclamation from a girl, who was
being shown through the camp by a strutting lieutenant. The sentinel was
Basil and Phyllis was the girl.

"Why, isn't that Basil?" she asked in an amazed tone--amazed because
Basil did not speak to her, but grinned silently.

"Why, it is Basil; why--why," and she turned helplessly from private to
officer and back again. "Can't you speak to me, Basil?"

Basil grinned again sheepishly.

"Yes," he said, answering her, but looking straight at his superior, "I
can if the Lieutenant there will let me." Phyllis was indignant.

"Let you!" she said, witheringly; and she turned on the hapless tyrant
at her side.

"Now, don't you go putting on airs, just because you happen to have been
in the Legion a little longer than _some_ people. Of course, I'm going
to speak to my friends. I don't care where they are or what they happen
to be at the time, or who happens to think himself over them."

And she walked up to the helpless sentinel with her hand outstretched,
while the equally helpless Lieutenant got very red indeed, and Basil
shifted his gun to a very unmilitary position and held out his hand.

"Let me see your gun, Basil," she added, and the boy obediently handed
it over to her, while the little Lieutenant turned redder still.

"You go to the guard-house for that, Crittenden," he said, quietly.
"Don't you know you oughtn't to give up your gun to anybody except your
commanding officer?"

"Does he, indeed?" said the girl, just as quietly. "Well, I'll see the
Colonel." And Basil saluted soberly, knowing there was no guard-house
for him that night.

"Anyhow," she added, "I'm the commanding officer here." And then the
gallant lieutenant saluted too.

"You are, indeed," he said; and Phyllis turned to give Basil a parting
smile.

Crittende