Boy Scout's Victory

Reveille was over at the military school, and the three boys on the end of the line nearest the mess hall walked slowly toward the broad steps of the big brick building ahead. They differed greatly in type, but of this they were unconscious, for all were deep in thought. “I am going home,” said the tallest boy abruptly. “Had a letter from my sister last night. My word, they are having some ripping times over there!” “Your father won’t let you,” said the second lad. “How can you go to England when I can’t get back to Mexico?” “I can jolly well go,” said the tall boy. “I’ve been planning for this. Mid-term is over, and I haven’t told you chaps, but I’ve been hoarding every cent of my allowance all winter. I have enough and to spare for second cabin.”