“We have both got Betsy Ross flags now,” said Dorothy, and in all that procession there were no prettier figures than those of Dorothy and Tavia, as they marched alongside the veterans, with the real army flags waving above their heads, stepping with feet and hearts in perfect accord to the music of the Dalton Drum and Fife Corps’ “Star Spangled Banner.”

CHAPTER II

DOROTHY AT THE OFFICE

Could the sunshine of yesterday be forgotten in the clouds of to-day?

Major Dale was ill.  Overfatigue from the long march, the doctor said, had brought on serious complications.

Early that morning after Memorial Day, Aunt Libby called Dorothy to go to her father.  The faithful housekeeper had been about all night, for the major had had a high fever, but now, with daylight, came a lowering of temperature, and he wanted Dorothy.

“Now, don’t take on when you see him,” Aunt Libby told the frightened girl.  “Just make light of it and pet him like.”

Poor Dorothy!  To think her own “Daddy” was really sick—­and so many veterans already dead!  But she must not have gloomy thoughts, she must be brave and strong as he had always taught her to be.

“Why, Daddy,” she whispered, in a strained voice, kissing his hot cheek, “the honors of yesterday were too much for you.”

“Guess so, Little Captain, but I’ll be on hand at mess time,” and he made an effort to look like a well man.  “But I tell you, daughter, there’s something on my mind; the Bugle should come out to-morrow.”

“And so it will.  I’ll go directly down to the office and tell Ralph.”

“Yes, Ralph Willoby is a good boy—­the best I have ever had in the Bugle office.  And that’s why I sent for you so early.  I want you to go down to the office and help Ralph.”

“Oh, I’ll just love to!” and Dorothy was really pleased at the prospect of working on the paper, in spite of the unfortunate circumstance—–­her father’s illness—­that gave her the chance.

“Not so fast now.  You must pay strict attention—­”

“But you are not to talk:  you have had a fever, from fatigue, you know, and it might come back.  Just let me go to the office and I will promise to return for instructions at the very first trouble Ralph meets.”

Dorothy was already on her feet.  She knew the very worst thing the major could do in his present condition would be to talk business.

“Now I’m off,” she said, with a kiss and an assuring smile, “you will be proud of to-morrow’s Bugle.  ‘All about Memorial Day!’ ’Get the Bugle if you want the news!’” she added, in true newsboy style.  Then Aunt Libby came in to wait on the major.

But Dorothy’s heart was not as light as her smile had been.  Her father looked very ill, and the bread and butter of the Dale household depended upon the getting out of the Bugle.

Her brothers, Joe and Roger, had been sent to school early to be out of the way, but to-morrow they might both stay home, thought the sister, for they could help sell papers.