Rodney's friends did not at first see what Marcy could be doing on the tower, for had not Dick Graham assured them that the flag was all right, and that they would never see it hoisted again? But if Marcy suspected that his Cousin Rodney would make an effort to run up his new Confederate flag in place of the Stars and Stripes, might it not be that he and a chosen squad had taken possession of the tower, intending to hold it so that Rodney could not carry out his design? If that was the case there was bound to be a struggle more or less desperate, and Rodney's adherents would be expected to be on hand; so they followed him to the top of the tower, but halted when they got there, astonished and appalled at the scene that was presented to their gaze. The cousins were clinched and swaying about in alarming proximity to the low parapet, over which they were in imminent danger of falling to the ground; the sentry on duty was vainly endeavoring to part them by placing his musket between the struggling boys and crowding them toward the middle of the tower; and Marcy Gray was clinging to the halliards leading up to the masthead, from which the starry flag was floating in all its glory. It was not the old flag, however, but a newer and better one, whose glossy folds had never before been kissed by the breeze. "Stop this!" shouted Cole, recovering himself by an effort and darting forward to assist in separating the angry and reckless boys. "Haven't you any sense left? A misstep on the part of one would be the death of both of you. Don't you know that the academy is four stories high, and that the tower runs up one story higher? Let go, Rodney. Give me those halliards, Marcy." "Stand back, both of you!" cried the latter. "I'd rather go over than give up the halliards. If I had two hands I would very soon end the fracas, but I haven't a friend to hold the ropes while I defend myself." [Illustration: THE STRUGGLE FOR THE FLAG.]