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“You may get a chance to go to New Orleans, after all,” she said. “You mustn’t blame Marion, Jimmy. Think of the responsibility he will have, every day and night of that long journey—and, perhaps, fighting.”

“Well, I guess I can hold up my end of the fighting,” said Jimmy. “I never failed to do it yet.”

“That’s the trouble,” said Milly. “You and Kenton and MacAfee are so quarrelsome.”

“I know what you mean, Milly,” said Jimmy, feeling his heart harden against even her friendliness. “You’re going to try to persuade Marion to take me. Well, I ain’t going to have you do it. I won’t go. Not that way. Marion’s got to take me because I’m as good a man as the rest of ’em, or I don’t go. And if he should happen to change his mind and want me, he’ll have to ask me mighty perticular. I won’t be hanging round having every one point to me as the boy that set fire to the building shed.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, anxiously. “Oh, Jimmy, promise me that it won’t be something you’ll be sorry for.”