of you boys, then, are planning to give up your lives to
the Flag?" exclaimed Laura.

"Yes," nodded Dick; "do you think it's foolish?"

"I think it's glorious!" breathed Laura.

"So do I," agreed Belle heartily; "though, like Dave, I should
think the Navy would be the more attractive."

"Oh, the Navy is all right," gibed Dick. "It would never suit
me, though. You see, a fellow in the Navy has nothing to do but
ride into a fight on board a first-class ship. It's too much
like being a Cook's tourist war time. Now, any Army officer,
or a private soldier, for that matter, has to depend upon his
own physical exertions to get him into the fight."

"And an Army fellow," twitted Dave, "if he finds the fight too
hard for him, can always dig a hole and hide in it. But where
can a naval officer hide?"

"Oh, he has it easy enough, anyway, hiding behind armor plate,"
scoffed Dick.

"Of one thing I feel certain, anyway," said Laura thoughtfully.
"You are both of you cut out for the military life. Under the
most fearful conditions I don't believe either one of you would
ever show the white feather."

"I don't know," replied Dick gravely. "Neither one of us has
ever been tested sufficiently. But I hope you're right, Laura.
I'd sooner be dead, at this instant, than to feel that my cowardice
would ever throw the slightest stain on the grand old Flag. I
try to be generous in my opinions of others. I think I can stand
almost any man except---the coward!"

"I'm not a bit afraid of either one of you, on that score," broke
in Belle warmly.

"That's very kind of you," nodded Dave. "But of course you don't
know any more about our bravery than we do ourselves. It has
never been proven."

"How many young men have been killed in football this year?" asked
Laura quietly.

"I think the paper stated, the other day, that it was something
more than forty," replied Dick.

"Well, don't you two play football," demanded Laura. "Don't you
both jump into the crush as fearlessly as anyone, Doesn't it take
about as much nerve to play fast and furious football as it does
to fight on the battlefields Isn't football, in its hardest form,
a great training for the soldiers"

"Oh, perhaps," laughed Dick. "For that matter, Laura, I believe
you could soon talk me into believing that I'm braver than good
old Phil Sheridan!"

"Hullo," muttered Dave suddenly. "What-----"

"Where's the crowd rushing!" demanded Belle, in the same brea