DON'T FORGET THE RALLY IN HONOR OF OUR BOYS TO-NIGHT!
"I ain't likely to forget it," he muttered.
He wondered how Roscoe's father felt when he saw that banner and this thought strengthened his determination so that he ignored the patriotic reminders all about him, and plodded stolidly along, his square face set in a kind of sullen frown.
"It's being—with the Colors, just the same," he said, "only in another kind of way—sort of."
As he turned into West Street he noticed on the big bulletin board outside the Methodist Church the words:
THE GOVERNOR WILL BE ON THE PLATFORM OUR BOYS WILL BE IN THE TRENCHES THE BOY SCOUTS ARE ON THE JOB AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!
"They're a live bunch, that Methodist Troop, all right," commented Tom.
He raised his hand and gently lifted aside a great flag which hung so low over the sidewalk that he could not walk under it without stooping.
"Just the same, I can say I'm with the Colors," he repeated. "You can be with them even if—even if they ain't around——"
He had evidently hit on some plan, for he walked briskly now through Culver Street, his lips set tight, making his big mouth seem bigger still.