the sentiments of
every man in his company. "I can see now why that Conscription Act was
passed. It was to make room for a lot of government pets, who are too
fine to go into the ranks, but who are allowed to come here and shove
out veterans when they cannot tell the difference between 'countermarch
by file right' and 'right by twos.' Our new colonel doesn't know who we
are or what we have done, and cares less; and when we go to him for our
discharges, he will throw so much red-tape in our way that we can't get
out. That's what I am afraid of."

As to the other question--how Dick Graham was to get over the
river--that was something that could be settled when they had their
discharges in their pockets. First and foremost Dick would go home with
Rodney; and after he had taken a good long rest, and learned all about
the means of communication between the two shores (they were positive
there must be some regular means of communication, because Dick had
received two letters from home since he had joined the Army of the
Center), Rodney would take his chances of seeing him safely across the
river. But their discharges must be their first care, and they came much
easier than they dared hope for. One day Rodney was detailed to act as
guard at brigade headquarters, and the first officer to whom he
presented arms was one whose face was strangely familiar to him. It was
his new brigade commander, and a wild hope sprung up in Rodney's breast.
The energetic, soldier-like manner in which he handled his piece
attracted the notice of the general, who seemed to be in good humor, and
who unbent from his dignity long enough to remark:

"You have been well drilled, sentry."

"Yes, sir; at Barrington Military Academy," replied Rodney, with a good
deal of emphasis on the last words.

This had just the effect the boy meant it should have. The general
stopped and looked curiously at him, and Rodney, instead of keeping his
eyes "straight to the front and striking the ground at the distance of
fifteen paces," returned his superior's gaze with interest.

"Haven't I seen you before?" the latter asked at length.

"Yes, sir; aboard the steamer _Mollie Able_, going up the river a year
ago," answered Rodney. "You were Captain Howard then."

The boy had no business to say all this, and no one in the army knew it
better than he did. It was his place to wait and be questioned; but he
couldn't do it. There was too much at stake--his discharge and Di