, one huge pin being apparently stuck
right through his chest, though a second glance revealed the fact that
it was only a cane with a gilt head passed, skewer fashion, in front of
his elbows and behind his back.

Then a few evolutions were gone through, and Richard Frayne thought the
men looked a melancholy set of dummies, more like plasterers than
soldiers, till at the loudly-shouted word "Dis--miss!" they trotted off
readily enough.

Just then a couple of sergeants marched a squad of twelve or fourteen
shabby-looking young fellows into the barrack yard, the whole party
wearing the ribbons of the recruit, and toward this group, as it they
were an attraction, the fat drill-sergeant and some half-dozen more from
different parts of the yard walked slowly up.

Richard's pulses beat fast as he stood looking on, conscious the while
that a tall, keen-looking non-commissioned officer who passed him was
watching him curiously.

Then followed a little loud talking and laughing, and the party of
recruits were marched across the yard and disappeared, leaving the group
of sergeants chatting together, till one of them seemed to have said
something to his companions, who, as if by one consent, turned to stare
at Richard Frayne.

"Now for it," muttered the lad, and, drawing a deep breath, he pulled
himself together, feeling as if he were going to execution, and walked
straight toward them, feeling the blood come and go from his cheeks.

The men stood fast, looking at him in a half-amused, good-tempered way,
as if he was not the first by many a one who had approached them in that
fashion, and the keen-faced man said in quick, decisive tones the words
which ended one of the boy's difficulties--

"Well, my lad, want to 'list?"

Only those few hours ago and people touched their hats to him and said,
"Sir Richard;" now it was, "Well, my lad, want to 'list?" But he
answered promptly--

"Yes; I want to enlist."

"Hah!" ejaculated the sergeant, looking him over keenly, and grasping
him by the arm as if he were a horse for sale. "How old are you?"

"Turned seventeen."

"Hah! Yes," said the sergeant, with a keen look; "old story, eh? Run
away from home?"

Richard's face turned scarlet.

"That'll do, my lad; don't tell any crackers about it. See these chaps
just brought in?"

"Yes."

"Well, there isn't one who doesn't stand two or three inches higher than
you, and is as many more round the chest. Men are plentiful no