It was almost dusk when he started from home to go to the grist-mill of which his father was the proprietor. He wanted to get his father's signature first, both as a matter of policy and as a matter of filial courtesy. As he approached the railroad station, which it was necessary for him to pass on his way to the mill, he saw Colonel Butler pacing up and down the platform which faced the town, and, at every turn, looking anxiously up the street. It was evident that the colonel was waiting for the train, and it was just as evident that he was expecting some one, probably Pen, to come to the station to see him off. And Pen was nowhere in sight. A brilliant and daring thought entered Aleck's mind. While, ordinarily, he was neither brilliant nor daring, yet he was intelligent, quick and resourceful. He was always ready to meet an emergency. The idea that had taken such sudden possession of him was nothing more nor less than an impulse to solicit Colonel Butler for a subscription to the flag fund and thus forestall Pen. And why not? He knew of nothing to prevent. Pen had no exclusive right to subscriptions from the Hill, any more than he, Aleck, had to subscriptions from the Valley. And if he could be first to obtain a contribution from Colonel Butler, the most important citizen of Chestnut Hill, if not of the whole county, what plaudits would he not receive from his comrades of the Riverbeds? Having made up his mind he was not slow to act. He was already within fifty feet of the platform on which the gray-mustached and stern-faced veteran of the civil war was impatiently marching up and down. An empty sleeve was pinned to the breast of the old soldier's coat; but he stood erect, and his steps were measured with soldierly precision. He had stopped for a moment to look, with keener scrutiny, up the street which led to the station. Aleck stepped up on the platform and approached him. "Good evening, Colonel Butler!" he said. The man turned and faced him. "Good evening, sir!" he replied. "You have somewhat the advantage of me, sir." "My name is Aleck Sands," explained the boy. "My father has the grist-mill here. Miss Grey, she is our teacher at the graded school, and she gave me a paper--" Colonel Butler interrupted him. "A pupil at the graded school are you, sir? Do you chance to know a lad there by the name of Penfield Butler; and if you know him can you give me any information concerning his whereabouts this evening?" "Yes, sir. I know him. After school he started for Drake's Hill with some other Hill boys to go a coasting." "Ah! Pleasure before duty. He was to have met me here prior to the leaving of the train. I have little patience, sir, with boys who neglect engagements to promote their own pleasures." He had such an air of severity as he said it, that Aleck was not sure whether, after all, he would dare to reapproach him on the subject of the subscription. But he plucked up courage and started in anew.