ly as it reads, and all the
other boys had finished and were making a clamor for envelopes and
stamps, a disturbance in which Glen did not join since his letter was
never to be mailed.

He would have tried to escape the afternoon talk, but Will Spencer
claimed him.

"Push my old billy-cart right up alongside that speaker," he demanded.
"If he's done half they say he has I want to hear him."

So Glen was not only present but in a prominent place where he was bound
to hear all that the speaker had to say. And a very interesting
narrative it was, though we have no space in this story for anything but
the few very last words.

"And so it came about," said the war correspondent, "that after seeing
all sorts of soldiers in all manner of warfare, it fell to my lot to see
this one brave man holding up his banner against great hordes of
invaders in a crowded inland city of China, and he was single-handed.
And I was obliged to admit that he was the bravest soldier I had seen;
and since the appeal came to me so directly I volunteered. And thus it
happened that one who had been a reporter of scenes of carnage turned to
write the message of the Cross. And now I am going about enlisting
recruits for the army of righteousness and right glad I am that so many
of you are in that army, and right glad I shall be to talk with any of
you who need help."

Many of the boys came to say a word to the speaker as they dispersed.
Glen stood there, next to Spencer's cart. He would not have said a word
had he been threatened with torture, but he was greatly concerned and
both his hand and heart throbbed with the hope that some one would
respond to the eloquent plea that had stirred him so deeply. When the
boys all had gone the response came from the least expected place. It
was from Jolly Bill who had lain in his cart in thrilled interest.

"I've half a mind to do it, Glen," he whispered.

"Oh, you must, Bill. It's just the one thing you need," urged Glen, as
earnestly as though he were himself an exhorter.

"How is it?" asked Spencer, turning to the speaker. "You would hardly
care to enlist half a man, would you?"

"No," said the war correspondent. "We don't care to do things by halves,
but we're mighty glad to enlist a whole man like you. Whatever accident
you have suffered hasn't cut you off from being a man after God's own
heart. Shake hands on that."

"I've been finding it pretty empty to 'Laugh and the world laughs with
you,'" adm