"I am not charging you with that responsibility, sir. I am simply appealing to your generosity. By the way, I understand--I have learned this afternoon, that there exists what may be termed a feud between the boys of Chestnut Hill and those of Chestnut Valley. Have I been correctly informed?" "Why, yes; I guess--I suppose you might call it that." "And I have been informed also that you are the leader of what are facetiously termed the 'Hilltops,' and that our young friend, Master Sands, is the leader of what are termed, still more facetiously, the 'Riverbeds.' Is this true?" Pen closed his book and hesitated. He felt that a reproof was coming, to be followed, perhaps, by strict orders concerning his own neutrality. "Well," he stammered, "I--I guess that's about right. Anyway our fellows sort o' depend on me to help 'em hold their own." Pen was not looking at his grandfather. If he had been he would have seen a twinkle of satisfaction in the old gentleman's eyes. It was something for a veteran of the civil war to have a grandson who had been chosen to the leadership of his fellows for the purpose of engaging in juvenile hostilities. So there was no shadow of reproof in the colonel's voice as he asked his next question. "And what, may I inquire, is, or has been, the _casus belli_?" "The what, sir?" "The--a--cause or causes which have produced the present state of hostility." "Why, I don't know--nothing in particular, I guess--only they're all the time doing mean things, and boasting they can lick us if we give 'em a chance; and I--I'm for giving 'em the chance." Reproof or no reproof, he had spoken his mind. He had risen from his chair, and stood before his grandfather with determination written in every line of his flushed face. Colonel Butler looked at him and chuckled. "Very good!" he said. He chuckled again and repeated: "Very good!" Pen stared at him in astonishment. He could not quite understand his attitude. "Now, Penfield," continued the old gentleman, "mind you, I do not approve of petty jealousies and quarrelings, nor of causeless assaults. But, when any person is assailed, it is his peculiar privilege, sir, to hit back. And when he hits he should hit hard. He should use both strategy and force. He should see to it, sir, that his enemy is punished. Have your two hostile bodies yet met in open conflict on the field?" "Why," replied Pen, still amazed at the course things were taking, "we've had one or two rather lively little scraps. But I suppose, after what happened to-day, they'll want to fight. If they do want to, we're ready for 'em." The colonel had left his place in front of the fire, and was pacing up and down the room. "Very good!" he exclaimed, "very good! Men and nations should always be prepared for conflict. To that end young men should learn the art of fighting, so that when the call to arms comes, as I foresee that it will come, the nation will be ready." He stopped in his walk and faced his grandson.