“Well, it looks to me as if she was only fightin' for her principles. She believes in 'em. The more it costs a person to stick to their principles, why, the more I believe the person must have something pretty fine about 'em likely.” “Yes!” said the hot-headed Fred. “That may be in ordinary times, but not when a person's principles are liable to betray their country! We won't stand that kind of principles, I tell you, and we oughtn't to. Dora Yocum's finding that out, all right. She had the biggest position of any girl in this place, or any boy either, up to the last few weeks, and there wasn't any student or hardly even a member of the faculty that had the influence or was more admired and looked up to. She had the whole show! But now, since she's just the same as called any student a murderer if he enlists to fight for his country and his flag--well, now she hasn't got anything at all, and if she keeps on she'll have even less!” He paused in his walking to and fro and came to a halt behind his friend's chair, looking down compassionately upon the back of Ramsey's motionless head. His tone changed. “I guess it isn't just the ticket--me to be talking this way to you, is it?” he said, with a trace of huskiness. “Oh--it's all right,” Ramsey murmured, not altering his position. “I can't help blowing up,” Fred went on. “I want to say, though, I know I'm not very considerate to blow up about her to you this way. I've been playing horse with you about her ever since freshman year, but--well, you must have understood, Ram, I never meant anything that would really bother you much, and I thought--well, I _really_ thought it was a good thing, you--your--well, I mean about her, you know. I'm on, all right. I know it's pretty serious with you.” He paused. Ramsey did not move, except that his right hand still fidgeted with the pen upon the table. “Oh--well--” he said. “It's--it's kind of tough luck!” his friend contrived to say; and he began to pace the floor again. “Oh--well--” “See here, ole stick-in-the-mud,” Fred broke out abruptly. “After her saying what she did-- Well, it's none o' my business, but--but--” “Well, what?” Ramsey murmured. “I don't care what you say, if you want to say anything.” “Well, I _got_ to say it,” Fred half groaned and half blurted. “After she said _that_--and she meant it--why, if I were in your place I'd be darned if I'd be seen out walking with her again.” “I'm not going to be,” Ramsey said, quietly. “By George!” And now Fred halted in front of him, both being huskily solemn. “I think I understand a little of what that means to you, old Ramsey; I think I do. I think I know something of what it costs you to make that resolution for your country's sake.” Impulsively he extended his hand. “It's a pretty big thing for you to do. Will you shake hands?”