efused the job. Never had a kid of my own, but
I'd like to have a soldier boy like you."

He helped Roscoe on with his big army ulster, and stood with a hand on
either of Roscoe's shoulders.

"You tell your father when you get home that I congratulate him.
Providence did him a good turn, as we scouts say."

"I dare say somebody or other did him a good turn," said Roscoe, almost
in a tone of disgust.

"Tell him I said he ought to be proud to furnish Uncle Sam with such a
soldier."

"Humph," said Roscoe, in the same mood; "it's a question who furnished
Uncle Sam with the soldier."

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Ellsworth, slightly puzzled.

"Oh, nothing in particular--I guess. I'm kind of tired--I'll be--glad
when I get in bed...."

CHAPTER XXIV

A SOLDIER'S HONOR

As the two walked along the dark street together, Roscoe, in his long
military coat, seemed taller than he really was and the boy at his side
seemed small and young to him.

He knew Roy only as everybody in a small city knows everybody else, but
Roy knew Roscoe as every boy in Bridgeboro knew the soldiers whom the
town had given to the Colors. He was proud to have been at that little
supper party, and he was proud now to be walking along at Roscoe's side.

"Gee, I'd like to come down to Camp Dix!" he said.

"Pretty hard for outsiders to get in the place now," said Roscoe,
"unless you're a wife, a mother, or a sweetheart."

"I'm only a boy sprout," said Roy, his wonted buoyancy persisting. "I
wouldn't go where I'm not welcome.... They might think I was a German
spy, hey?"

Roscoe looked down at him and laughed. Roy amused him, and he felt a
little twinge of sympathy for him, too.

"Ellsworth's pretty strict, isn't he?" he said. "I mean sort of--he's
got pretty strict ideas," he added, anxious not to say too much in
criticism.

Roy was silent for a moment. Then he said: "Gee, I hate to see that
vacant place in the Elk Patrol filled up! I know a lot of fellows who'd
be glad to come in, but I just can't ask them. That's what he meant when
he said I wouldn't take the job. Maybe you don't understand what I mean,
but as long as that place isn't filled, it seems like a--kind of as if
it was in memory of Tom--as you might say. It's a crazy idea, I
suppose."

Roscoe looked at him marching along with his scout hat set jauntily on
the back of his curly head in a way that was characteristic of him.

"I don't see anything crazy about it," he