ifference.

By eight o'clock next morning Jeb was on his way downtown. Although his
face was white and somewhat drawn, the illness had disappeared; he had
eaten a man's size breakfast and declared himself to be fit. The shivers
that earlier made a playground of his frame were quiet; their elements
were present, but scattered by a resolution that was now driving him
onward--and well nigh driving him mad!

Turning into the _Eagle_ building he walked stolidly to the editor's
room and entered. As he had hoped, Mr. Strong was not there, and only
the Colonel arose, crying with outstretched hands:

"A soldier's recovery, on my word, sir! Jeb, you rebound like a rubber
ball--I'm proud of you!"

"You mustn't be proud of me," he replied slowly, not looking into the
honest face that smiled at him. "I am not fit to be proud of."

The words might have been taken for extreme modesty, but the tone fell
unpleasantly on the Colonel's ears. He recognized, or thought he
recognized, something that had its root in this young man before him;
not merely an expression of the moment. For an instant his keen eyes
bored into the averted face, causing Jeb to look up rather defiantly.

"Colonel," he said jerkily, "tomorrow is draft day. I'm afraid of it;
I'm a--a----" then it burst in a tone of desperation, "--a coward, sir!"

The office was perfectly still for nearly a minute, during which the
Colonel's scrutinizing gaze never faltered. He would have been vacuous
indeed to ask if this thing were a joke, for Jeb's whole attitude
condemned him. But the old gentleman was not the type who easily
surrendered the honor of his friends, and when he spoke his words came
haltingly, as though he were weighing this damning statement against all
that had formerly been good; he was unwilling to pronounce a verdict on
the bare face value of such an accusation without throwing into the
balance, not only Jeb's character since boyhood, but the affectionate
memory of his father.

"It takes a brave man to say that, Jeb, and you've certainly shown no
cowardice thus far. I prefer to think that you are mistaking a new
situation, a strange sensation, for this more unworthy thing--I won't
name it, sir!"

Whatever the hope to which Colonel Hampton clung, he could no longer
doubt Jeb's earnestness nor his sanity. He saw that this son of his dead
friend was speaking a horrible truth which he, himself, could not
possibly understand. And then he seemed suddenly to ha