"That's all he said, Major, that's all. I was on my feet then and all
that needs to be said and done to him was said and done right there. I
said it and Phoebe and Mrs. Peyton Kendrick did it as they walked right
past him and out of the chamber of commerce hall of committees while he
was trying to answer me. That broke up the meeting and he can't be found
this morning. Cap has had Tom looking for him. I think when we find him
we will have a few more words of remonstrance with him!" said Dave
quietly. And he stood straight and tall before the major, and as he threw
back his head he was most commanding. There was an expression of power in
the face of David Kildare that the major had never seen there before.

He balanced his glasses in his hands a moment and looked keenly at the
four young men lined up before him. They made a very forceful
typification of the new order of things and were rather magnificent
in their defense of the old. The major's voice tightened in his throat
before he could say what they were waiting to hear.

"Boys," he said, and his old face lit with one of its rare smiles,
"there were live sparks in these gray ashes--or we could not have bred
you. I'm thinking you, yourselves, justify the existence of us old
Johnnies and give us a clear title to live a little while longer,
reunite once a year, sing the old songs, speechify, parade, bivouac a few
more times together--and be as disorderly as we damn please, in this or
any other city's hay market. Tom, telephone Cap to go straight to the
bivouac headquarters and have them get ready to get out a special edition
of the _Gray Picket_. If reports of this matter are sent out over the
South without immediate and drastic refutations there will be a
conflagration of thousands of old fire-eaters. They will never live
through the strain. Andrew, take David up to your rooms, send for a
stenographer and get together as much of that David Kildare speech as