ersisted.

"Can't you trust to a soldier's honor, Tom, without pinning him down?"

"Do you promise?"

"Won't you trust a friend? Won't you trust a soldier's honor, Tom?"

"Yes," said Tom. "I will."

For a few moments Roscoe sat breathing audibly and staring at Tom as if
hardly knowing what to do or say next.

"Do you know where I'm going now?" he asked, feeling the necessity of
speaking.

"Maybe I could guess," said Tom: "you're going up River Road. I bet she
said you looked fine in your uniform."

"Yes, I'm going there. I'm going to take her to a racket in Bridgeboro."

"It's funny how I met you here," said Tom.

"You walked all the way out on the turnpike road, I suppose. Tom," he
broke off suddenly, "there isn't any time to sit here and talk now;
listen. It seems as if all these weeks had been wiped out and we were
back up on that mountain again."

"I knew you'd like it up there; I----"

"Never mind that; listen. We're back just where we were that night. We
can make everything all right."

"Everything _is_ all right."

"No, it isn't; everything _isn't_ all right--old man. Tom, there's a
meeting to-night, a sort of jumble--Y. M. C. A., scouts, and I don't
know what all. Ellsworth nailed me for it. I've got to give the bunch a
little spiel.--Tom, I want you to come to it----"

"I----"

"Now, don't start that; listen. It's in the new Y. M. C. A. Hall. I know
you haven't got any clothes, if that's what you want to say, and I don't
care a hang about your clothes. I don't ask you to blow in with the rest
of them and sit in the audience," he went on hurriedly. "But just stroll
around after everything's started and the lights are down. They couldn't
see you--they won't notice you. Just stand in back."

"They got no use for me; they----"

"This is between you and me, old man; nobody else has got anything to do
with it. Go down to Mrs. What's-her-name's----"

"O'Connor's," said Tom.

"Go down there and wash up, if you want to--I don't care. Only promise
me you'll come around. I want you to see me make a show of myself.
You'll have a good laugh--you old grouch," he added, with sudden good
humor, "and after it's over we'll go up to my house and have a good
long talk."

"I've often passed your house," said Tom.

"I'm going down to camp on a milk train about two A. M. This may be the
last chance for us to see each other," Roscoe still spoke hurriedly;
"they're sending troops across every week, Tom."