ad better proceed no further with the
affair, for both of them might be arrested for disorderly conduct.

"I am satisfied, Ben; but if you ever call me a baby or a calf again, it
will all have to be settled over again," said Tom, as he laid aside his
musket, which he had been cleaning during the conversation.

"I don't want to quarrel with you, Tom," replied Ben, "but I wish you
would be a little more like the rest of the fellows."

"What do you mean by that? I am like the rest of the fellows."

"You wouldn't play cards."

"Yes, I will play cards, but I won't gamble; and there isn't many fellows
in the company that will."

"That's so," added Hapgood. "I know all about that business. When I went
to Mexico, I lost my money as fast as I got it, playing cards. Don't
gamble, boys."

"I won't, for one," said Tom, with emphasis.

"Are you going to set up for a soldier-saint, too?" sneered Ben, turning
to the old man.

"I'm no saint, but I've larned better than to gamble."

"I think you'd better stop drinking too," added Ben.

"Come, Ben, you are meaner than dirt," said Tom, indignantly.

Old Hapgood was a confirmed toper. The people in Pinchbrook said he was a
good man, but, they used to add, with a shrug of the shoulders, "pity he
drinks." It was a sad pity, but he seemed to have no power over his
appetite. The allusion of Ben to his besetting sin was cruel and
mortifying, for the old man had certainly tried to reform, and since the
regiment left Boston, he had not tasted the intoxicating cup. He had
declared before the mess that he had stopped drinking; so his resolution
was known to all his companions, though none of them had much confidence
in his ability to carry it out.

"I didn't speak to you, Tom Somers," said Ben, sharply.

"You said a mean thing in my presence."

"By and by we shall be having a prayer meeting in our tent every night."

"If you are invited I hope you will come," added Tom, "for if prayers will
do any body any good, they won't hurt you."

"If you will take care of yourself, and let me alone, it's all I ask of
you."

"I'm agreed."

This was about the last of the skirmishing between Tom and Ben. The latter
was a little disposed to be bully; and from the time the company left
Pinchbrook, he had been in the habit of calling Tom a baby, and other
opprobrious terms, till the subject of his sneers could endure them no
longer. Tom had come to the conclusion that he could obtain respectfu