CHAPTER III

ROLLO THE TERROR

On the evening when Ridge decided to take his departure for the seat of
war he was driven into the city by his father, who set him down near the
armory of the regiment in which he had been offered a lieutenant's
commission--for a consideration.

"I don't want you to tell me where you are going, son," said Mr. Norris,
"for I would rather be able to say, with a clear conscience, that I left
you at headquarters, and beyond that know nothing of your movements."

"All right, father," replied the young fellow. "I won't tell you a thing
about it, for I don't know where I am going any more than you do."

"Then good-bye, my boy, and may Almighty God restore you to us safe and
well when the war is over. Here is the money you asked for, and I only
wish I were able to give you ten times the sum. Be careful of it, and
don't spend it recklessly, for you must remember that we are poor folk
now."

Thus saying, the elder man slipped a roll of crisp bills into his son's
hand, kissed him on the cheek, a thing he had not done before in a dozen
years, and, without trusting his voice for another word, drove rapidly
away.

For a minute Ridge stood in the shadow of the massive building, listening
with a full heart to the rattle of departing wheels. Then he stooped to
pick up the hand-bag, which was all the luggage he proposed to take with