mpse of Jeb.

There had been neither time nor thought of luncheon, and during a lull,
about the middle of the afternoon, she arose wearily, saying:

"I think I'll go home now, and pack."

Both of the old gentlemen turned and looked at her mutely, their eyes
expressive of pain; for in the excitement of recruiting they had
temporarily forgotten the nearness of her leaving.

"Don't be sad," she smiled, bending over her father. "You'll have me for
several more days!" The Colonel, who for once forgot his gallantry and
remained seated, she kissed upon the forehead, murmuring: "I won't say
goodbye to you now, Uncle Roger, because I know you'll be down at the
train to-night. But you'll promise me to take care of daddy, won't you?
And Daddy," she turned, making a brave effort to laugh, "you promise to
take care of Uncle Roger, too!"

She realized that were either of them to attempt a word they would make
a sorry showing, and this would throw her into a torrential storm of
tears. Of all three in the editor's office, her shoulders carried the
heaviest burden. Each of the men was losing but one whom he loved; she
was losing two--and, besides these two, there was Jeb! Jeb, who had
thought more of his targets than of her return!--Jeb, who had not signed
the company roster, although over four hundred of Hillsdale's men had
come in gladly! She patted the Colonel's head and threw a hurried kiss
to her father, then was gone.

"I've never been more proud of her," the Colonel said, beginning to
cough; and there was a huskiness in the editor's throat as he replied:

"I wish her dear mother could have lived to share our pride, Roger."

When at sundown the Colonel, closing his ledger with a bang, announced
the time was up, Mr. Strong took his arm and drew him gently from the
chair.

"I don't make a practice of this, Roger," he said, "but I think we're
entitled to stop by the hotel for a small--er----"

About this time a man, deep in a distant wood, turned wearily over on
the ground. His hair was disordered, and there were signs of suffering
in his face. A close observer would have noticed that his finger nails
were dirty, not from personal untidyness but because, while in some
mental anguish, they had been dug into the earth.

As wearily as he had turned, he now arose, swaying slightly from his
long prostrate position. Then he started cityward, at the same moment
that Colonel Hampton and Mr. Strong were touching glasses, with an