ock
of the accident; and another that he had struck his head against a
rock and had gone temporarily insane, and that he ought to be followed
to see that he did no harm to himself. But no one offered to go on
such a mission, and, after watching the runner out of sight, they
turned their attention again to the wrecked bobs.

Aleck Sands went straight from school to his home in the valley. There
were afternoon chores to be done, and he was anxious to finish them as
soon as possible in order that he might start out with his
subscription paper.

He did not hope to equal Pen in the amount of contributions, for he
had no wealthy grandfather on whom to depend, but he did intend to
excel him in the number of subscribers. And it was desirable that he
should be early in the field.

It was almost dusk when he started from home to go to the grist-mill
of which his father was the proprietor. He wanted to get his father's
signature first, both as a matter of policy and as a matter of filial
courtesy.

As he approached the railroad station, which it was necessary for him
to pass on his way to the mill, he saw Colonel Butler pacing up and
down the platform which faced the town, and, at every turn, looking
anxiously up the street.

It was evident that the colonel was waiting for the train, and it was
just as evident that he was expecting some one, probably Pen, to come
to the station to see him off. And Pen was nowhere in sight.

A brilliant and daring thought entered Aleck's mind. While,
ordinarily, he was neither brilliant nor daring, yet he was
intelligent, quick and resourceful. He was always ready to meet an
emergency. The idea that had taken such sudden possession of him was
nothing more nor less than an impulse to solicit Colonel Butler for a
subscription to the flag fund and thus forestall Pen. And why not? He
knew of nothing to prevent. Pen had no exclusive right to
subscriptions from the Hill, any more than he, Aleck, had to
subscriptions from the Valley. And if he could be first to obtain a
contribution from Colonel Butler, the most important citizen of
Chestnut Hill, if not of the whole county, what plaudits would he not
receive from his comrades of the Riverbeds?

Having made up his mind he was not slow to act. He was already within
fifty feet of the platform on which the gray-mustached and stern-faced
veteran of the civil war was impatiently marching up and down. An
empty sleeve was pinned to the breast of the ol