the names but had seen in the movies. She gloried in his
enthusiasm, and squeezed his hands again, whispering:

"I'm proud of you!"

"There must be books and manuals and the like in Washington," the
Colonel was saying, "which teach the duties of a captain; so we'll wire
for them, also. Then I'll coach you, Jeb; I'll make an officer out of
you, you young cub!"

More and more each of them had caught the spirit. Jeb's eyes danced; his
pulse was bounding; his dreams of military splendor were coming true.
Marian had clasped her hands and rather worshipfully stared at him. Mr.
Strong stood with legs apart, looking him over with unfeigned
admiration; while the Colonel, also gazing, unconsciously drummed a
marching tattoo with his fingers on the table.

It all seemed so easy! With the simple faith of men who implicitly
believed the War Department would suspend business to fulfil their
wishes, they decided to order uniforms and wire the Hillsdale
representative to dash out in search of books. Jeb would absorb the
books and become a captain; the Colonel, ensconced in Mr. Strong's room,
would recruit the company, which, in turn, would don the uniforms and
make Hillsdale gasp at its brilliant efficiency. Flags would wave,
citizens would applaud, and the President would send a message of
fervent congratulations. That was the way it seemed to Jeb. He did not
dream of the nearness of the war, which had been viewed by him, as by
millions of others, as a mirage far off beyond the seas. Now he spoke in
a voice that trembled with pride:

"I'll make it a company of sharpshooters in no time; for, if there's one
thing I can do, it's shoot! Look at my last targets!" he cried, drawing
them from his pocket.

Meanwhile, the key out in the telegraph room began an agitated ticking.
It was too early for "A.P. stuff," but the reporter recognized, by long
association, sounds resembling the _Eagle's_ call. Now he heard the
operator give a low whistle, and that, also, from long association, he
knew meant "flash!" so he sauntered back and sat on the table, waiting.
In another moment he burst into Mr. Strong's room, thrusting a message
across the targets which Jeb had just unfolded.

The editor read it and caught his breath, then passed it over to his
friend, with the brief remark to all:

"War's declared!"

The Colonel sprang up as if electrified. Standing at full height he
clasped both hands above his face and fervently cried:

"Thank God