True To His Colors. Castlemon Harry

free and independent States," wrote Thomas Jefferson, and all the Northern and Southern delegates agreed with him. If they had intended to form one State or one government, they would have said so in language too plain to be misunderstood. That was Dick's way of looking at it, and he was honest in his belief that the authorities at Washington had no right to order him from his own State to keep another State in the Union when she wanted to leave it. Dick went into the Southern army after a while, as we have said, and so did many others who thought as he did; but their hearts were not in the work, and they were glad when the war ended and the old flag once more waved over our entire country.

      "Now," continued Dick, "look out for yourselves. If you see anybody coming, make tracks for cover and leave me to take care of myself. There is no need that more than one of us should get into trouble over this nonsensical business."

      So saying, Dick ran up the ladder, pushed aside the curtains, and, finding the room deserted, clambered in and seized the flag, which he found on the bureau just where the tall student told him he would find it. He made his escape with it, the ladder was taken back to the tool-house, and no one was the wiser for what had been done. If the students who presently followed the colonel back from the parade-ground had looked closely at Dick, they might have seen that his coat stuck out a little more about the breast than it usually did, but perhaps they did not notice it. At all events they said nothing about it.

      "What was the row about this time?" inquired Dick, as Rodney came to the head of the stairs where he was standing.

      "Politics; nothing but politics," replied Rodney. "But we didn't have time to find out which side was in the right, for the kurn came down and put a stop to the fun. Did you get it?" he asked in a lower tone, first making sure that no one except those who were "in the plot" were near enough to overhear his words. "Bully for you. Now we will see what Marcy and the rest of the traitors will say when they find another and handsomer flag floating at the masthead in the morning. Where is it?"

      Dick tapped the breast of his coat.

      "All right, hand it over. There's nobody around except those we can trust."

      "What are you going to do with it?"

      "I mean to put it where no one will ever see it again, and that is in the kitchen stove," answered Rodney.

      "That's what I was afraid of. Well, I don't want it to go in the kitchen stove, and therefore I must decline to give it to you."

      "Why, what in the name of sense do you want to keep it for?"

      "To show as a proof of my loyalty and devotion to the Confederate States of America," replied Dick gravely. "I need some sort of an heirloom to hand down to my grandchildren, don't I?"

      Of course Rodney was angry, and he had half a mind to "mix up" with Dick then and there and take the flag away from him. But the latter was a strong, active fellow, and plucky as well, and Rodney wasn't quite sure that it would be safe to attempt it. While he was thinking about it Bob Cole spoke up.

      "Let me have the flag," said he, "and I will promise you, on the honor of a soldier, that you shall have it again as soon as it has served my purpose."

      "What do you want to do with it?"

      "Well, if you must know, I want it to set me right with my best girl. She as good as told me this afternoon that I need not call at her house again until I could tell her that the flag had been hauled down. I want to show it to her to prove that it has been done."

      "But it hasn't," objected Dick. "It has been hooked out of the commandant's room, and that's not hauling it down by force. You can tell her that she will never see it hoisted again, and that assurance will have to satisfy her. If she should get her hands on it you would never see it again, and neither would I. When it can float over an undivided country, as it has in the past, and you rebels have been whipped into subjection, then – "

      "I say – whipped!" exclaimed Billings.

      "Subjection!" Rodney almost howled. "That will never be. Southerners die, but they don't submit. Dick Graham, you are a traitor, sure enough. You think more of that rag to-day than you do of the rights of the State you claim as your home."

      "There's where you are wrong," replied Dick. "I don't quite believe in

      State Rights, but my father does, and that's enough for me; and whenever

      Missouri gets ready to – "

      "When she gets ready to join the Confederacy you won't have the pluck to go with her," exclaimed Rodney hotly. "But there's one thing about it. Our own flag goes up on that tower after roll-call in the morning, and I'll pitch the first fellow over the parapet who tries to pull it down."

      "Well, good-by, if you call that going," said Dick, good-naturedly.

      The boys all followed Rodney down the stairs and Dick was left alone. He felt of the flag to make sure it was safe, and after looking up and down the hall to see that no one was observing his movements, he went into Marcy Gray's room, where Marcy himself found him a few minutes later.

      CHAPTER V

THE PAID SPY

      It must not be supposed that the students who did not side with Rodney Gray were entirely deceived by the demonstration that had taken place in the corridor. Noisy political discussions were of too common occurrence to attract the attention of Marcy and his friends, the most of whom were sitting quietly in their rooms, and they gave no heed to what was going on below until the shuffling of feet announced that there was a fight in progress. Then they rushed out in a body, but a single glance at the boys who were struggling in the hall was enough to show them that their services were not needed. The combatants were all secessionists. There were a few "neutrals" among them – Dixon for one – who were trying to restore order, and who finally succeeded in getting them out of the building, but there was no Union boy there who was in want of assistance.

      "What's in the wind now, do you reckon?" said Tom Percival, whose father had cast his ballot against secession with one hand, while holding a cocked revolver in the other. "That's a put-up job, and there's something behind it."

      "I believe you're right, Tom," said Marcy. "Let's follow them and see what they are going to do."

      There was right where he and his friends made a mistake. They went to the parade ground and looked on while the colonel read Rodney and a few others a severe lecture, and Dick Graham was left free to carry out his part of the programme. Then they went back to their dormitories fully satisfied that if Rodney had hoped to gain anything by getting up that fight, he had failed to accomplish his object. When Marcy opened his door he was surprised to find Dick sitting at the table with a paper in his hand.

      "What are you doing here, you rebel?" he demanded.

      "Rebel yourself," replied Dick. "You stand ready to go back on your State and I don't. But what is the use of this nonsense? You and I understand each other. Look at that."

      "Dick, where did you get it?" exclaimed Marcy, when his visitor drew the flag from under his coat.

      "I found it on the colonel's bureau and took it and welcome," answered

      Dick.

      "When did you do it?"

      "Just now."

      "Where was the orderly?"

      "He was at his post; but he didn't have anything to do with it, and will be as surprised as anybody when he finds that the flag is gone. We got a ladder and went in at the window."

      "We? Who?"

      "I did. You don't expect me to tell you who held the ladder while I went up, do you?"

      "We knew that that fight was a put-up job, but of course we couldn't imagine what it was got up for. If we had seen or heard anything to set us on the right track, you never would have got your hands on that flag."

      "Don't you suppose we knew that?" demanded Dick. "Having no taste for a knockdown and drag-out, we were rather sly about it. But what's the difference? You know as well as I do that it was bound to come down sooner or later, and perhaps it would have been lowered by some one who would not have been as careful of it as I have been. Imagine, if you can, what would have been done