lonel's soul
condemning and pleading for this weakling Hercules. He now turned
anxiously to the editor, asking:

"You haven't found anyone, have you, Amos?"

"Eh? No, Roger, I haven't. Our boys, who are not already pledged to the
Colors, prefer taking their turn with the draft."

"Then wire Barrow quickly that Jeb takes Wade's place!"

Mr. Strong swung about in his chair.

"Jeb? Does Jeb want _that_ branch of service?"

"He's crazy for it, Amos! He wants anything that'll get him to France as
speedily as possible."

The Colonel tried manfully, for the love of old associations, to look
without flinching into the eyes of Amos Strong. He felt that Jeb should
have told this lie--not, perhaps, an out and out lie, for Jeb did truly
want any service wherein he would escape the draft and gun-fire; but it
was a lie, nevertheless, and the Colonel's cheeks burned hotly.

"Well, I'm----!" Mr. Strong did not say it--not that he wouldn't have!
He turned, wrote a hurried direction and rang for his stenographer;
then, as she retired, he wheeled back again with a cordial smile.

"You've greatly surprised me, Jeb--that is, I'm delighted with your
resolution. I've a blank somewhere," he now began fumbling over the
littered desk, "and we'll make it out at once; just a form, you
know--all units have 'em in one style or another! Now: Name? ----
Residence? ---- Age? ----"

It was soon done and passed over for Jeb's signature which was attached
with a firm, confident hand. Mr. Strong wrote awhile further, and looked
up, saying:

"It may be slightly irregular, but the time is so short we can't help
ourselves; so I've vouched for your physical condition. I've also waived
indemnity in case you're killed, since, of course, thus far in life
you've contributed nothing to the support of your aunts."

This mention of being killed, put down in regular form, drove the color
from Jeb's cheeks; but it seemed absurd to him and the next moment he
laughed, saying:

"I don't suppose there's one chance in a thousand of that, way back in a
hospital!"

The desk telephone rang and Mr. Strong took up the receiver, thus
checking his reply.

"Yes, Barrow, I called you. I've a man for Wade's place. Still room?
Good! Jeb Tumpson--known him all his life! J-E-B, yes, Jeb. Not time to
mail it?--wait!" He reached for the application and began to read it
slowly, sometimes repeating so the listener could take it correctly
down. "When shall he report, Barr