don't smoke as much as I did," said Roscoe; "but
sometimes--er--a cigarette sort of pulls you together. What--what were
you going to say?"

He returned and sat down again at the table.

"Why, nothing in particular," said Mr. Ellsworth, "except this: I want
you to drive home to these boys of mine this lesson of obedience, this
necessity for respecting a promise above all things, and of obeying an
order from one whom they've promised to obey. You get me?"

"I--I think I do."

"This meeting which we're holding in conjunction with the Y. M. C. A.
to-morrow night is the last one before I go away myself. When I heard
you were going to be home from camp over the week-end, it just popped
into my head that I'd ask you to come around and give the boys a spiel.
They've all got a great admiration for you, Roscoe. I suppose it's
because your uniform becomes you so well. You make a pretty fine-looking
soldier. Anybody tell you that?"

"Miss--Margaret Ellison, in the Temple Camp office, was kind enough to
hint as much," admitted Roscoe humorously.

He did look pretty handsome in his new khaki. He had a figure as
straight as an arrow and a way of holding his head and carrying himself
with the true soldier air. Besides, his blond, wavy hair, always
attractive, seemed to harmonize with his brown uniform, and his blue
eyes had a kind of dancing recklessness in them.

"All the boys have promised to be there--the Methodist Troop, the East
Bridgeboro Troop, and mine----"

"Which is the best of all," put in Roy.

Roscoe laughed merrily.

"We'll have the Y. M. C. A. boys and three full troops as well."

"Except for Tom," said Roy.

"We won't talk of Tom any more," said Mr. Ellsworth. "That's a tale that
is told. It's a closed book."

"It isn't with me," said Roy bravely.

"I want you to tell the boys--there'll be some girls there, too, if they
want to come----"

"Oh, joy!" Roy commented.

"I'm glad to see you bucking up," said the scoutmaster. "I want you to
tell the boys," he went on to Roscoe, "a little about life down in Camp
Dix. Tell them how you enlisted."

"I didn't enlist--I was drafted."

"Well, it's much the same--you were glad to be drafted. There were a
whole lot of you fellows who didn't get around to enlisting who were
glad enough when the call came. You didn't need any urging, I'll bet."

"N-no," said Roscoe.

"And so I want you to tell these scouts, just in your own way, what it
means to be a soldier.