"I--I hope so," sighed his mother. "But I--well, I'm afraid I don't trust any one in Washington any too thoroughly." Hal laughed heartily. He had got over the first electric shock of the news, and was happy enough now to laugh at anything. "Noll, I hope you----" began Mrs. Overton, overflowing with generosity. "Why--where is--what has become of that boy? He was here a moment ago!" It was certain enough now that Noll Terry was nowhere about. "Mother," said Hal wisely, "you needn't look for Noll. He's beating a nine-second sprint to his own house." "He didn't need----" "Don't you understand? Noll is traveling hot-foot to his own roof to see if the postman on that route has left a long envelope for _him_." "Poor boy! I hope he has won his commission, too," sighed Mrs. Overton, wistfully. "Oh, I think he has." "He's a nice boy." "Mother, he's one of the very best fellows in the world." "I suppose Mr. Ad Interim will have a lot to say about Noll's commission, too," said Hal's mother. "_Ad interim_ is Latin, Mother. It means 'in the time between,' or something like that." "Oh," smiled Mrs. Overton. "I didn't know but Ad was the bootblack at the Capitol." "I feel like running right after Noll," murmured Hal. "Don't you dare do it, my son. Don't you feel that I've any right to my boy's company in the first moments that such good news has come to him? Hal, I'm thinking how you'll look in your new uniforms--_ad interim_. Will you order a uniform at once?" "No; I rather think I won't." "Why!" demanded Mrs. Overton, eagerly. "Mother, you may think me reckless, and over-confident. But the fact is, I've already been measured for my new uniforms." "When? And when will they be here?" "Do you remember the big mahogany chest that I brought with me from the Philippines, Mother?" "Yes." "Well, the whole outfit of uniforms is packed in that chest." "Henry Overton--you take me right upstairs and unlock that chest--this instant!" "Come on, Mother!" Hal called back, gayly, as he darted out of the parlor and up the front stairs. "And they've been here all this time," panted the mother, as her officer-son brought out his key-ring and fumbled at the lock of the mahogany chest. "And you--you--you told me the chest held clothes of yours." "Well, that wasn't a lie was it, Mother?" Hal threw up the lid and lifted out a tray. "Now, wade into 'em. Look 'em over to your heart's content. Here's the dress sword. Isn't it a beauty?" Gripping the scabbard with his left hand, Hal drew out the handsome blade with a flourish. "Ugh! I don't like it, except to look at," shuddered his mother. "I hope my son will never have any need to cut up a fellow-being with that sword."