llar of it goes to
her."

"Well, that aint here or there. Are you going with your father or not?"

"He must prove that he is my father first."

"You won't take his word?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I do not like the man," and our hero's face filled with sudden
bitterness. What if Dr. Mackey should prove to be his parent, after all?
How St. John would rejoice in his discomfiture!

"I suppose this Dr. Mackey is a very common sort of man," continued the
spendthrift, in an endeavor to add to our hero's misery.

"What do you know about him?"

"Nothing but what I heard at the village."

"Is he down there now?"

"Of course not. He went with our troops."

Jack drew a sigh of relief. It was likely that the doctor would not show
himself in the neighborhood for some time to come, probably not until
the Federal troops had departed.

"I am going to talk to my aunt of this," said St. John suddenly, and,
without another word to Jack, turned his steps toward the plantation
home.

CHAPTER XIX.

A SUMMONS FROM THE FRONT.

St. John found his aunt too busy to spend much time talking about Jack's
past and Dr. Mackey's claim, and it was not long before he took his
departure, feeling that he had gained nothing by this new attack upon
our hero's welfare.

"I wish I could get him out of the way," he muttered, as he walked
homeward, by a side road, so as to steer clear of the Federal troops.
"If only he would join the army, and get shot down."

He entered his home filled with thoughts of Jack and Marion, but all
these thoughts were driven to the winds after he had read a
communication which had been left for him during his absence.

The communication was one from a well-known Southern leader of the
neighborhood, and ran, in part, as follows:

"Many of us think it time to call upon you to take up arms as we
have done. With our noble country suffering from the invasion of the
enemy, every loyal Southerner is needed at the front. Join our ranks
ere it be too late. The muster roll can be signed at Wingate's
Hotel, any time to-day or to-night. Do not delay."

As St. John read this communication his face grew ashen. "Called upon to
join at last!" he muttered. "What shall I do now? What excuse can I
offer for hanging back?"

"What is in your letter, St. John?" asked his mother.

"They want me to join the army--they say every man is needed," he
answered, with half a groan.

"To join? When?"