“Because--” began Jimmie with a queer shyness, “because you think maybe they wouldn’t take you back?” “You’ve guessed it, son.” Jimmie reached forward and patted the man’s cheek in rough sympathy. “I know,” he answered. “It’s a rotten shame. But I’ve thought all that out, too. I got the idea to-night when Uncle Cephus was telling how a boy up at Cleveland ran away to the war--under another name.” “Another name?” repeated Dad, a confused hope jumping into life within him. “That’s it. Now the gov’ment was silly enough not to want Lieutenant-Colonel Brinton back in the army. Even as a private, most likely. But how is the gov’ment going to know you’re Lieutenant-Colonel James Brinton unless you tell ’em so? Why, there ain’t a chance in a billion you’ll run across anyone you used to know. And if you did--well, a man changes a whole lot in fourteen years. I know _I_ have.” The veteran’s mind blazed with the new thought--a plan so simple, so safe, so feasible that he marveled at his own drink-dulled brain for not sooner seizing upon it. Details were still in a jumble; but the basic thought possessed him to the very soul. “I read in the _Herald_,” went on Jimmie, his voice cracking with excitement, “that there’s a new recruiting camp at Cincinnati. Go there. It’s only forty miles. You can make it in two days easy. And there you won’t run into any of the home folks. They’re all enlisting at Columbus.” Dad was sitting bolt upright in bed, his every nerve tense. Twenty years had tumbled from his suddenly straightened shoulders. “Jimmie!” he gasped. “Jimmie! Oh, son, you’re a wonder!” “You--you’ll _do_ it, Dad?” cried the boy. “Do it?” echoed Brinton. “_Yes!_” The boy gave his grandfather a rapturous hug and squealed aloud in glee. “Mother won’t be very nice about it,” he said presently, “but--” “No,” agreed Dad, a shade of his elation ebbing. “She won’t. I hadn’t thought of that. That’ll be the only hard part of it all. Somehow, son, I’m such a rank old coward I’d rather face a dozen crazy men armed with knives than one terribly good woman armed with a righteous temper. But I’ll have to go through with it some way. I’ll speak to her the first thing in the morning.” “You don’t have to.” “But how--” “Remember the night I went cat-fishing with you? Well, how do you s’pose I got out of the house? By that window just behind you. I shinned down the water-pipe. It’s dead easy. _I_ did it. I stump _you_ to. Right this very night. It isn’t twelve o’clock yet. You could be ten miles out of town before to-morrow morning at sunrise.” Dad was on his feet, drawing on his clothes with the careful haste of a veteran. “I’ll do it!” he said, feeling delightfully like a runaway schoolboy. “I’ll do it, Jimmie. Oh, lad, you’re such a little brick!” “Don’t go off half-cocked,” adjured Jimmie. “There’s something else you’ve got to think of. What name are you going to have them call you?”