But here and now was the fact of his father’s conscription to deal with; a fact which opened the door to untold trouble, to possible, if not probable, tragedy. For Bob knew that in declaring his proposed resistance to the draft his father was not indulging in mere bravado. What Rhett Bannister said he meant, and what he undertook to do he did if it was within the power of human accomplishment. So Bob waited in dread for the coming of the officer to serve the notice of the draft. But when, three days after the drawing, a deputy provost-marshal did come with a conscription notice, neither Bob nor his father was at home. So the notice was left at the house with Mrs. Bannister, and she, poor woman, after contemplating it all the afternoon with dread and apprehension, thrust it into her husband’s hand at night, saying deprecatingly, tearfully:-- “O Rhett, I couldn’t help it! He just gave it to me, and I didn’t know what it meant till I read it, and I don’t know now, except I suppose it means that you are really drafted and must go to war. And he wouldn’t stay to let me tell him why it was just impossible for you to go, and--and that’s all I know about it, Rhett dear.” Bannister took the notice and read it over. It was simply to the effect that, in accordance with the Act of Congress of March 3, 1863, he had been drawn to serve for three years, or during the war, as a soldier in the armies of the United States. It further notified him to report for duty within ten days from the date of service of the notice, at the office of the provost-marshal for the district, Captain Samuel Yohe, at Easton, Pa. There was an additional notice to those desiring to purchase release from service, to pay the three hundred dollars commutation money to the deputy internal-revenue collector for the district. When he had carefully read the notice a second time, Bannister folded it and laid it on the desk. “I have ten days of peace,” he said, “in which to prepare for war.”