With a conceited toss of her head Sarah Ford stepped to the front. "She's mean," was whispered around. "Perhaps teacher knows only the meanest girl would ever take Doro's place." Meanwhile two very miserable girls were crying their eyes sore in the back seat. "Oh, Doro!" sobbed Tavia, "to think you lost it on my account." "It was not on your account," wailed Dorothy, "but on account of an unreasonable teacher." "Hush! She'll hear you." "Hope she does," went on the crying girl. "I would just like her to know what I think of her. I don't care if I never come in this old school again." "I never will," whispered Tavia. The ranks were formed now, and the girls marched out. An unpardonable expression covered the face of Sarah Ford as she passed the tearful ones. "There," hissed Tavia, sticking out her tongue at the unpopular leader. "Sneak!" she hissed again, and made the most unmistakable face of contempt and defiance at the haughty Sarah. Many looked sadly at Dorothy and with pity at Tavia. Certainly these two girls deserved to march. Dorothy had done so much to help, in fact some of the girls knew she had helped the major with all the letter writing, inviting the Rochester men, and sending instructions to the firemen. And to think that now, at the last moment, she should be debarred! And Tavia too, had been so happy at the prospect of the parade. Poor Tavia! Everybody knew she had a hard time of it, anyway, only for Dorothy, who always helped her out. "Now, young ladies," said Miss Ellis, as the last girl passed out, "you may fall in at the end." "I don't care to," Dorothy spoke up, wiping her eyes. "But I say you must!" "Do," whispered Tavia, "we can see them anyway." This was enough for Dorothy. Both girls stood up, straightened out their crushed dresses, patted their red eyes with their handkerchiefs, and fell in at the end of the line. "I don't care a bit," said Dorothy smiling. "I would just as soon be with you any way. And besides, we will be right next to the Veterans." "Oh, good," answered her companion, "I would rather be there than up front. Only, of course, you should lead." The Dalton Drum and Fife Corps was playing loudly. There seemed something very solemn about the lively tune in honor of the "Boys" who had answered their last roll call. Tavia's eyes were swimming, and not a freckle was to be seen beneath the deep red color that framed them. Dorothy could not talk. It was so sad--that soldiers had to die just like other persons. She prayed her "Daddy" would not be called for years and years. At the corner of the street the school children were joined by the main column. The veterans fell in--back of Dorothy and Tavia! Major Dale was grand marshal, and of course came first. He looked surprised at seeing his daughter--his Little Captain, last in line with the children.