"I'll not take a thing to-morrow, even if it is offered to me," was the resolution Rodney made before he went to sleep that night. "I'll go out as a private and come back as a private, unless I can win promotion in the face of the enemy. Time makes all things right, and we'll see who will come out at the top of the heap--Tom Randolph or I." The next morning about eight o'clock, Rodney seated himself in the carriage with his father and mother and was driven to the camp of the Rangers. It presented more of a holiday appearance now than it did the first time he saw it, for it had been cleaned up and decorated in honor of the occasion. The little grove in which the tents were pitched was thronged with visitors, the Rangers were out in full force and there was a good deal of "logrolling" going on. All the candidates had ballots prepared, and Rodney had scarcely set his foot on the ground before he was surrounded by a little group of recruits, all of whom were anxious to serve the Confederacy in the capacity of officers. "We've got you down for third sergeant," said one. "We've arranged to push you for that position if you will vote for me for orderly and for Randolph for second lieutenant." "Find out who the other candidates are before you make any promises," exclaimed another; and then, when no one was observing his movements, the speaker gave Rodney a wink and a nod which the latter could not fail to understand. He drew off on one side and the recruit, whose hands were full of ballots, went on to say: "Randolph doesn't stand the ghost of a chance for the second lieutenancy, and he has good cheek to ask the boys to give it to him. He thinks he is going to run the company because his father has done so much for it." "And he thinks he and his friends are going to keep me in the background because my father has done so little for it," added Rodney. "Well, they can't do it, and they will find it out when the thing is put to the test. You have a military education and Randolph hasn't. That's one thing against him, and his overwhelming self-conceit is another. You are rather young to look for a commission in a company of men, but you will come in for the orderly sergeant's berth sure as shooting." "I am obliged to those who suggested me for that place, but I'll not take it," said Rodney very decidedly. "I enlisted for a soldier." "Well, what in the name of sense do you call the orderly?" "I call him a clerk," answered Rodney. "Why, I thought he was drill-master." "Of awkward squads--yes,"