"Bless your heart, not exactly lonesome, Mr. Hamilton, but I'm glad to come just the same. You see I'm too busy to be lonesome. I've got lots to do, cleaning up all the rooms against the cadets coming back in a couple of weeks." "Then maybe you haven't time to spend an hour or so here." "Oh, I reckon I have. But it's agin the regulations for me to eat here. I'm supposed to eat with the other servants." "We'll make our own regulations for the time being," said Dick. "Here comes Mrs. Fitzpatrick with the grub. I hope you're hungry, for I'm not particularly." "Well, I can eat a bit," admitted Toots. "I say, though, that is a spread!" he exclaimed, as he saw the good things the housekeeper was bringing into Dick's room, where she set them on a table. "Well, it's Christmas," observed Dick, "though I can't eat much myself. However, it'll do me good to see you put it away." "And I can do that same," admitted Toots cheerfully. Dick, under the doctor's orders was allowed only a bit of the white meat of the turkey, and none of the "stuffing," so he could not make a very substantial meal, but Toots ate enough for three. "I don't suppose you got this sort of thing in the army," ventured Dick, wishing to have his odd friend talk somewhat of his experiences, for he had learned that Toots had once been janitor at a military post. "No, indeed," replied Toots. "We did get a little extra at holiday times, but nothing like this." "How did you come to be at the military post?" asked Dick. "Blessed if I know. I was always a sort of a rover, and I suppose I wandered out west. I'm going to join the army some time. I'm a good shot, you know. Did you ever see me shoot?" "Yes," replied Dick, trying not to smile, as he thought of how far Toots had come from hitting the target. "Yes, I'm a good shot," went on the janitor. "But I'm going to improve. I'll practice on the range this winter at odd times. You're a pretty good shot yourself, ain't you?" "Fair," admitted Dick, as he watched Toots put away the roast turkey and the "fixings." "A-ker-choo!" suddenly sneezed Toots, pulling out his handkerchief. "Aker-choo-choo! Guess I put too much pepper on my potatoes," he said. Something fell to the floor, as Toots pulled out his handkerchief. It lay in sight of Dick, who was propped up in bed. "What's that?" he asked. "You dropped something." The man picked it up, and Dick saw that it was a marksman's bronze medal. "Let me see that," he said, quickly, and the janitor passed it over. "Why this was given to some soldier, for good shooting," went on our hero, as he tried to decipher the name on it. "Where did you get it, Toots?" "Blessed if I know, Mr. Hamilton. I've had it a long time. It was given to me by some friend, I expect. I found it the other day in my trunk. I'd forgotten I had it. But if it's a marksman's badge, I'm going to wear it. I'm a good shot."