"I did. You don't expect me to tell you who held the ladder while I went up, do you?"
"We knew that that fight was a put-up job, but of course we couldn't imagine what it was got up for. If we had seen or heard anything to set us on the right track, you never would have got your hands on that flag."
"Don't you suppose we knew that?" demanded Dick. "Having no taste for a knockdown and drag-out, we were rather sly about it. But what's the difference? You know as well as I do that it was bound to come down sooner or later, and perhaps it would have been lowered by some one who would not have been as careful of it as I have been. Imagine, if you can, what would have been done to it if the news had come that this State had joined the Confederacy! There hasn't been an ugly finger laid on it since I got it."
Marcy took a turn about the room and then faced his visitor and looked at him in silence.
"I am sure I don't know what to make of you," he said, at length. "Which side are you on? I don't believe you know yourself."
"Haven't I told you time and again that I'm neutral?" demanded Dick.
"You see Missouri—"
"You never saw two dogs fight in the street without wanting one or the other of them to whip," interrupted Marcy. "There can't be such a thing as a neutral in times like these. You are opposed to the flag, and yet you don't want to see it in possession of those who would insult or destroy it. You handle it as though you loved it."
"I did once, and I don't hate it now, or anybody who stands up for it," answered Dick, thoughtfully. "I am going to give it to you on one—"
"I wondered why you brought it in here," said Marcy. "I shall be glad to have the flag, and to-morrow morning we'll—"
"Good-night," said Dick, getting upon his feet.