o," said Bud stoutly, as he braced his shoulders, "I'm a-goin'."

But no persuasion could make him wear his uniform.

The boys were a little cold to him, and some were brutal. But most of
them recognised the fact that what had happened to Tom Harris might have
happened to any one of them. Besides, since the percentage had been
shown, it was found that "B" had outpointed them in many ways, and so
their loss was not due to the one grave error. Bud's heart sank when he
dropped into his seat in the Assembly Hall to find seated on the
platform one of the blue-coated officers who had acted as judge the day
before. After the opening exercises were over he was called upon to
address the school. He spoke readily and pleasantly, laying especial
stress upon the value of discipline; toward the end of his address he
said: "I suppose Company 'A' is heaping accusations upon the head of the
young man who dropped his bayonet yesterday." Tom could have died. "It
was most regrettable," the officer continued, "but to me the most
significant thing at the drill was the conduct of that cadet afterward.
I saw the whole proceeding; I saw that he did not pause for an instant,
that he did not even turn his head, and it appeared to me as one of the
finest bits of self-control I had ever seen in any youth; had he
forgotten himself for a moment and stopped, however quickly, to secure
the weapon, the next line would have been interfered with and your whole
movement thrown into confusion." There were a half hundred eyes glancing
furtively at Bud, and the light began to dawn in his face. "This boy has
shown what discipline means, and I for one want to shake hands with him,
if he is here."

When he had concluded the Principal called Bud forward, and the boys,
even his detractors, cheered as the officer took his hand.

"Why are you not in uniform, sir?" he asked.

"I was ashamed to wear it after yesterday," was the reply.

"Don't be ashamed to wear your uniform," the officer said to him, and
Bud could have fallen on his knees and thanked him.

There were no more jeers from his comrades now, and when he related it
all at home that evening there were two more happy hearts in that South
Washington cottage.

"I told you we was more prouder dan if you'd won," said "Little Sister."

"An' what did I tell you 'bout backin' out?" asked his mother.

Bud was too happy and too busy to answer; he was brushing his uniform.

End of Project Gutenberg'