He swung along the River Road with a fine air, as if he owned it, and passing a small boy (bound across the river, perhaps) he lifted the youngster's hat off and handed it to him with a laugh. When he reached the Ellison cottage he deliberately kept pushing the bell button again and again, just out of sheer exuberance, until Margaret herself threw the door open and exclaimed, "What in the world is the matter?" "Nothing; can't you take a joke?" "You're late," she said. "Sure; I'm a punk soldier. That's a swell hat you've got on. Can you hustle? If you don't mind, we'll take the short cut through the grove." It _was_ a swell hat, there is no denying that, and she looked very pretty in it. "I'm taking my knitting," she said, handing him one of those sumptuous bags with two vicious-looking knitting needles sticking out of it. "I hate to go through the grove, it's so spooky," she said, as they hurried along. "I'm always seeing things there. Do you, ever?" "Oh, yes." "Really? What?" "Oh, lions and tigers and things." "Now you make me afraid," she shuddered. "I met a lion in there to-night," he said; "that's what delayed me. If I see another one, I'll jab him with one of these knitting needles. Hear that screech-owl? He sounds like the Kaiser'll feel next year.--Do you know that Blakeley kid?" "Roy? Surely I do. Everybody knows him." "He's all wool and a yard wide, isn't he?" "Yes, he's fine." "Look out you don't trip on that rock.--He walked down the street with me last night and talked about--about that Slade fellow." "Tom, you mean?" "Yes; he's a staunch believer in Tom, even yet." She made no answer. "I think you kind of liked that fellow," said Roscoe teasingly. "I always said if he ever made up his mind to do a thing he'd do it." "Well, I guess he went and done it, as my old school grammar used to say." "I don't like to hear you speak flippantly about him." "How about me? Suppose I should make up my mind to do a thing----" "Here we are at the bridge already," she said. * * * * * The new Y. M. C. A. Assembly Hall presented a gay scene, and they pushed through the crowd, Roscoe opening a way for the girl to pass, greeted on both hands by his friends and former companions. It seemed as if all the young people of the town were on hand; scouts were conspicuously in evidence, and among them all Mr. Ellsworth hustled genially about attending to a hundred and one duties. "There you are," said Roscoe; "take that seat. Reminds you of that meeting on June fifth last when I wasn't with you--and Slade didn't show up either. Now, don't forget to clap when I stand up, will you?"