"Why don't you give me the flag, if you are going to?" said Marcy. "Some of the teachers might come in, and how should I account for your presence here?"
"In any way you please. I am not particular. Hold on a bit," said Dick, as Marcy tried to take the colors from his hand. "I must have your promise first. You must say, in so many words, that you will not attempt to hoist it in the morning, and further, that you will not let anyone know I gave it to you. A certain fellow wants to shove it in the stove—"
"That's my cousin," interrupted Marcy.
"And another wants to show it to his girl, who told him to-day, in my presence, that if he had the pluck she had given him credit for, the colors would have come down long ago."
"That's Bob Cole," said Marcy.
"I was taught never to tell names, and tales, too. I knew that if I gave the flag to either of those fellows I would never see it again. I have marched and drilled under it for almost four years, and shouldn't like to hear that it been abused in any way; but if you and I live to see the end of the terrible times that I believe are coming upon us, I should like to hear that it had been run up again. That's why I am going to give it to you; but I must have your promise first."
"It's a bargain, and there's my hand on it," answered Marcy, without hesitation. "That flag shall never go up to the top of the academy staff again if I can help it, and while I remain in this school I'll never say you gave it to me. Now hand it over, so that I can hide it before anybody comes in."
Dick was rather surprised at the promptness with which the required promise was given. Almost without knowing it he handed Marcy the flag, and saw him place it in his trunk and turn the key upon it.
"Say," he exclaimed, when he found his tongue, "what are you up to?"
"I am going to leave the flag there until I can think of some good hiding-place for it," replied Marcy.