Yet, even as he argued, the school-house door opened and the besieged army marched forth. They marched forth, indeed, but this time they had an American flag at the head of their column. It was carried by, and folded and draped around the body of, Alexander Sands. It was the flag that Colonel Butler had given to the school. Whose idea it was to use it thus has never been disclosed. But surely no more effective means could have been adopted to cover an orderly retreat. The Hilltop forces stared at the spectacle in amazement and stood silent in their tracks. Pen was the first to recover his senses. If he had been angry when the enemy came upon them unawares from the stone-wall, he was furious now. "It's another trick!" he cried, "a mean, contemptible trick! They think the flag'll save 'em but it won't! Come on! We'll show 'em!" He started toward the advancing column, firing his first snowball as he went; a snowball that flattened and spattered against the flag-covered breast of Aleck Sands. But his soldiers did not follow him. No leader, however magnetic, could have induced them to assault a body of troops marching under the protecting folds of the American flag. They revered the colors, and they stood fast in their places. Pen leaped the ditch, and, finding himself alone, stopped to look back. "What's the matter?" he cried. "Are you all afraid?" "It's the flag," answered Elmer Cuddeback, "and I won't fight anybody that carries it." "Nor I," said Jimmie Morrissey. "Nor I;" "Nor I," echoed one after another. Then, indeed, Pen's temper went to fever heat. He faced his own troops and denounced them. "Traitors!" he yelled. "Cowards! every one of you! To be scared by a mere piece of bunting! Babies! Go home and have your mothers put you to bed! I'll fight 'em single-handed!" He was as good as his word. He plunged toward the head of the column, which had already reached the middle of the public road. "Don't you dare to touch the flag!" cried Aleck. "And don't you dare to tell me what I shall not touch," retorted Pen. "Drop it, or I'll tear it off of you." But Aleck only drew the folds more tightly about him and braced himself for the onset. He clutched the staff with one hand; and the other hand, duly clenched, he thrust into his adversary's face. For a moment Pen was staggered by the blow, then he gathered himself together and leaped upon his opponent. The fight was on: fast and furious. The followers of each leader, appalled at the fierceness of the combat, stood as though frozen in their places. The flag, clutched by both fighters, was in danger of being torn from end to end. Then came the clinch. Gripping, writhing, twisting, tangled in the colors, the lithe young bodies wavered to their fall. And when they fell the flag fell with them, into the grime and slush of the road. In an instant Pen was on his feet again, but Aleck did not rise. He pulled himself slowly to his elbow and looked around him as though half-dazed.