ght, though Mrs. Bertram
would have been horror-struck at the narrow escape the little invalid
had, of falling to the ground during the proceeding.

When they saw the trap in the distance, they set up a wild cheer, and
waved their handkerchiefs frantically, and when they were answered by a
cheer and a fluttering piece of white, they felt quite satisfied at
their farewell.

Before they got down from their high perch, Roy said, earnestly, "If God
sent us Rob as an opportunity, Dudley, I wonder if we did him good."

"Well, you see he was such a lot bigger than us, and Aunt Judy says she
never saw such a steady good boy; it's very difficult to do good to
good people, because you want to be so extra good yourself."

"At any rate, we've made him the Queen's soldier."

"Yes," argued Dudley, provokingly; "but he was the first one that
thought of it!"

"Oh, shut up," was Roy's impatient retort; "he told me himself it was
the song of Jake and Jim that did it, and--and my talking to him."

"And I expect the sergeant thinks it's all his doing."

"But he wouldn't have gone unless I had told him he might."

And as usual Roy had the last word.

XII

LETTERS

Very disappointed were the boys at Rob's first letter, which arrived
about a fortnight after he had gone to the regimental depot at a
neighboring town.

"DEAR MASTER ROY:

"I hope you and Master Dudley are
quite well as it leaves me at present. I like it
first-rate, but it is hard work, and I have a
good many masters, but I means to do my
best. God bless you.

"From your faithful
"ROB."

"That's not a letter at all!" said Roy, scornfully; "why he tells us
nothing at all! Why he might have gone to school and told us more! That
from a soldier. It's the stupidest rot I've ever heard!"

"I think you forget what a poor scholar Rob is," said Miss Bertram,
reprovingly. "Now I think that is a remarkably good letter when I think
what a short time he has been learning to write. You boys had better
each write a proper letter to him yourselves, and ask him what you want
to know. He will like to hear from you."

And so that afternoon, sitting up in state at the library table, the
boys spread out their writing materials and began to write.

"I feel," said Roy, biting the end of his pen and looking up at the
ceiling for an inspiration, "that I don't know quite how to begin. I
should like to tell him not to write like an ass, when he know