"Every one in sight made some demonstration," said Rodney gleefully.
"Dick, you are out in the cold."
"I don't feel very forlorn over it," was the reply. "How do you know but that some of those who cheered your old rag are Union at heart? But what are you fellows going to do, and what do you want of me?"
"We intend to hoist Rodney's flag on that tower to-morrow morning immediately after roll-call, and we want to know if you are in."
"No; I'm not in. I'm out. That's me."
"There, Rodney," exclaimed one of the students. "I hope you are satisfied now that you wasted time when you went after Dick Graham. He's a Yankee."
"You're another," retorted Dick.
"Do you still claim to be neutral?"
"I do, for a fact. You see, Missouri—"
"Oh, Dick, have a little mercy on a fellow, and don't say that again," cried half a dozen voices at once.
"Well, then, what do you want me to say? I'll not help you pull down the flag, if that is what you are after. I say, let her alone and she will come down of herself when the sunset gun is fired."