“Oh, no, they won't!” said the young man easily, and with sudden cheerfulness. “We won't let them!” he tossed his book to the table and left his chair. “We won't let them!” he repeated. “We!” cried Benson. “Certainly!” he laughed queerly, gleefully. “I shan't be able to stop them alone, but if there's going to be a war, they'll want soldiers to fight—that will just suit me! I'll enlist!” “You! You'll do nothing of the kind!” said Benson sharply. “Why, you're just ready to be admitted to the bar.” “I'll never make a lawyer!” the boy kept on with growing enthusiasm. “I've known that all along; but soldiering—” “You're too young,” began the lawyer. “I'm twenty, and it will be the young fellow's fight! The old fellows will stay home and talk fight just the way they have been doing ever since I can remember—what are they ringing that confounded court-house bell for anyhow?” “They are going to call a meeting, I suppose,” said the lawyer. “To pass resolutions?” shouted the boy, laughing. “To encourage us young fellows to go down South and get shot? It takes experience to knock together a batch of resolutions that look well on paper; that's the job for the old fellows! Stiff joints don't disqualify a man for that sort of thing. I'll bet they make you chairman, you or old Bradly.” “You seem to find a good deal of amusement in this,” said Benson. “I do. I'm just thinking what a lot of talking and quill driving has gone to get this thing started, but the real work will be done in quite another way; and it's the other way that suits me!” “I wish you'd leave yourself out of this, Stephen,” said Benson shortly. “I want to get you acquainted with the idea that I am to be in it!” retorted Stephen. Benson shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose you think that a good strong set of resolutions from the town of Benson in the State of Ohio, will settle the business,” said the boy, still laughing. “Suppose there should be a call for men, and you should enlist; how do you think your aunt would feel?” inquired Benson. This sobered Stephen instantly. “Well,” he rejoined slowly, “if there's a war, I don't suppose it can be carried on by the orphans of the country; but, come to think of it, that describes me, though I hadn't thought of myself as that before!” “No; and why hadn't you thought of it?” demanded the lawyer quickly. “Well, I never think of myself in that way; my Aunt Virginia's been too good to me, for me to have missed anything in my life in the way of affection, you know that!” “And you are now considering making her this singularly grateful return for all her goodness.” “That's so,” said Stephen drily. “I'm all she has, just as she is all I have,” but the acknowledgment was made reluctantly enough. “I was sure you would think of that,” said Benson. The boy turned with a sigh to his chair by the window. “Perhaps there won't be any need of men,” he muttered.