Bob knew from previous experience, on many occasions, that it was absolutely useless to attempt evasion with Sarah Jane Stark. Much as his sensitive nature rebelled against complaining of any slight that his fellows had put upon him, he felt that he must make a clean breast of it to his questioner. “Why, they put me out of the company, Miss Stark,” he said. “I wanted to drill in the company with the other fellows and they wouldn’t let me. That’s all. I s’pose they had a right to do it; of course they had a right.” “Put you out of the company, did they? And what did they put you out for, I’d like to know? Aren’t you as good a soldier as any of them?” “Well, that wasn’t exactly it, Miss Stark. They seemed to think that because--well, they thought I wasn’t loyal.” “Thought you weren’t loyal! Well, that is a note! Why, you--oh, I see! On account of your father, eh? Yes, I see.” Miss Stark tapped her foot impatiently on the hard soil of the side-path, and looked off toward the blue sky-line of the Moosic range, behind which the sun had already gone down. “‘The sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the children,’” she said musingly. Then she turned again to Bob. “You’re no copperhead yourself, are you?” she inquired. “You’re not even a locofoco, are you?” “No, indeed, Miss Stark! There isn’t one of those boys that believes in putting down the rebellion more than I do, that loves the old flag more than I do, or would fight for it, or for the government, or for Abraham Lincoln, quicker than I would if I had the chance--Miss Stark, I’m loyal, I’m loyal!” He stood erect, eyes flashing, the color back in his cheeks, the soul within him speaking. Sarah Jane Stark went up to him and put her arm about his shoulders. “Good!” she cried. “You’re the right sort. I wish Abe Lincoln had a hundred thousand at the front just like you. Now you leave that matter about the company to me. I’ll see those boys, the little brats, and if they don’t take you in I’ll--” “No, Miss Stark, please don’t! I couldn’t go back in now. I couldn’t ever go in after this. But if the war lasts till I get old enough, I shall be a real soldier in a real company some day.” “Bully for you!” It was not a very dignified nor refined expression; but Sarah Jane Stark was noted for expressing herself forcibly when the occasion demanded it, and she felt that this was one of the occasions that demanded it. “And,” she added, “you go tell Rhett Bannister for me, that if he had one thousandth part of the natural patriotism and horse-sense of his son-- No, you needn’t tell him; I’ll tell him myself. I can do it better. You just trot along home and don’t let the conduct of those fool boys trouble you. You’re right and they’re wrong, and that’s all there is to it.”