Then Flora Archer took her place. Flora was a thoughtful little girl who carried around in her eyes a deep, deep something people never understood. With her lips close to the flagpole, she whispered her message to it, and all the while the beautiful banner streamed out to its farthest length. Flora came back without speaking, and the children looked at her in curious silence. But when the others were noisily choosing times again, Flora slipped her hand into Louise's and whispered: "I wished for our soldiers to win in the war, but for them not to be cruel when they do." "Yours, Louise!" exclaimed somebody. And before Louise had time to examine the depths of her heart to see what it was she most desired, a half-dozen pair of friendly hands pushed her forward. It was no time to hold back--to spoil the game. Louise mounted the green knoll from which the great flagpole rose. But she did not at once look up. Her glance had accidentally lighted on the lonely figure on the steps, and was resting there for a moment in startled contemplation. He was such a _little_ boy, and he seemed so--apart! But one must make no mistakes where one's country was involved. _Were_ his blue eyes "gleaming" with vengeful purpose? Or were they only full--of shining tears? "Look up! Look up!" the children called. Louise threw back her head--threw it back so far that the familiar scene about her became lost to her view and she beheld nothing but the vision above. Amid the battling tree tops and against a threatening sky the flag of freedom streamed out in all its rippling glory--red for the courage of American hearts, white for the purity of purpose they should harbor, and blue for truth, like that higher, farther heaven above the gathering clouds. Now rippling, now curling, wreathing, snapping, and now--straight out, fronting the coming storm! "Quick! Quick!" the children shouted, as Old Glory floated free. Suddenly the child stretched up her hands. It was not a wish, but a prayer, that her young heart sent up to her country's flag. "Help me to--play fair!" she whispered. Louise saw her comrades only mistily when she came down the green knoll again toward them. Then all became babel again. "It's my time next!" exclaimed Luke Musgrove, shouldering forward. "Who said so?" demanded another. "_I_ said so," answered the big boy rudely, and he strode to his place against the flagpole. "I wish," he began in a loud, strident voice, and without waiting for the wind to come hurtling across the green, "I wish _to wring the neck of that German spy_!" All eyes were quickly turned from the flag to where a little wide-eyed boy shrank back in terror against the steps. "Glory be!" shouted Billy Hastings. "Teacher's gone in--let's drag Rudolph under the flag!" Instantly the flame of persecution swept them, and they started after the alien lad. But at the foot of the steps somebody blocked the way. Louise Carey had flung herself between.