Three times she tried it, then with a little sob, dropped her head on her arm and sat still. The girls ran to her, while the boys turned away to hide their own emotion.
"Never mind, Betty dear," whispered Mollie, wiping a tear from the end of her nose and patting Betty's hand tenderly. "We—we all feel the same way about it."
Betty raised her head and smiled a little April smile upon them.
"I'll always keep the home fires b-burning," she said unsteadily, "but I c-can't sing about it."
"Wake up, Gracie." Betty's voice was low and excited as she shook her friend into semi-wakefulness. "The boys have to catch the early train, you know, and we mustn't keep them waiting."
"Yes, I know," said Grace, waking to full consciousness without a protest—for the first time since Betty had known her. "What time is it, Betty?"
"Six-thirty," answered Betty, beginning to dress hurriedly. "That's fifteen minutes later than we should be. Oh, if we should miss seeing them off!"
"Betty, I don't feel like myself at all," said Grace, after a silence during which they had both been plunged in thought. She flourished a shoe in the air and regarded Betty as though it were her fault. "I feel all quivery and shaky and trembly inside, and I don't think I could smile if you paid me for it."
"Goodness, I know I couldn't!" said Betty, and then added as she pinned on the bunch of carnations Allen had brought her the night before: "We've just got to smile, though, whether we feel like it or not. We don't want the boys to remember us in tears."
"I should say not!" responded Grace emphatically. "When I cry I'm a perfect fright. That's why I never do it."
Betty chuckled despite the dull ache at her heart.
"I wasn't quite thinking of that," she said. "But it surely will be better if we're able to smile a little bit. Come on—let's practice."
They stood together before the mirror, doing their best to smile naturally, and their very failure to do it made them laugh at themselves.
"If we're not a couple of geese," said Betty, as arms intertwined, they descended the stairs. "That's about the first time we ever had totryto smile. Now for a bite of breakfast."
But, try though they did, they could not eat, and finally had to give it up entirely.
"We were all to meet at Mollie's, weren't we?" asked Grace, as they made their way down the sun-flooded street. "Oh, Betty, I'm afraid to meet anybody, I'm so sure I'm going to make a goose of myself. Will you hold my hand all the time?"
"Of course," said Betty, laughing unsteadily. "It's always hard to say good-bye to anybody you—you—like," she added, "but when they're going away to war and you may never see them again——"
"Please don't," begged Grace, squeezing her hand convulsively. "If you talk like that I just can't stand it, that's all. It wouldn't take very much——"
"All right, I won't do it again," cried Betty with forced gaiety."Isn't that Mollie waving to us? Of course it is. Come on, Grace,I'll run you a race."
But Grace was in no mind to run a race, and Betty reached the meeting place alone, with Grace trailing in the rear.
"Have any of the boys reached here yet?" asked Betty as she ran up the steps. "I was afraid we'd be late."
"No, they haven't come," said Mollie, looking anxiously down the street; "and I'm so afraid they'll be late and miss the train, I don't know what to do. Do you suppose they could have forgotten?"
"Mollie Billette," cried Betty, looking at her wonderingly, "what on earth——"
"Oh, I know I'm impossibly silly," cried Mollie, dropping into a chair and rocking nervously; "but I just don't know what I'm saying this morning. I feel as if somebody was dead."
"Not yet—but soon," boomed a deep voice behind them that made them jump a foot.
"Roy Anderson!" cried Mollie, her French temper flaring forth. "That's a nice thing to do—come up behind us and scare us all to death. And it's not nice to joke about such a serious thing, either."
"Gee, it won't do any good to cry about it," retorted Roy philosophically, looking around upon the three pretty girls with an appreciative eye. "I call it a great lark, and if only you girls were coming along my happiness would be complete."
"Where are the other boys?" broke in Betty. "I thought you were all coming together."
"I called for both of them," Roy answered, grinning, "but it seems they'd overslept themselves, and they said they'd be along later."
"Well, if it's verymuchlater," said Grace grimly, "they might as well go back to bed again. That train isn't going to wait."
"Oh, they'll be here all right," Roy assured her confidently. "They're not going to be left behind when there's any adventure like this afoot."
"Here they come now," cried Betty, running to the edge of the porch and waving frantically. "Amy's with them, too. Must have picked her up on the way."
"We'll save time if we go on down to meet them," Roy suggested, taking Grace by the arm. "Come along, girls, we really haven't any time to waste."
Betty and Mollie needed no such invitation. They were down the steps and flying along the street before Grace had risen from her chair.
"Oh, we were so afraid you'd be late," gasped Betty, as Allen caught her on the wing, as it were, and drew her to his side. "And if you weren't there on time, you might be tried for desertion, mightn't you?" she added, looking so adorable in her concern that Allen failed to reassure her right away.
"Well, I don't know that we have to be there just on the minute," he answered, smiling down at her. "But I may be really tried for desertion some day. I can't stay away from you very long, Betty."
She flushed and turned her eyes away.
"I wouldn't get you into any trouble for the world," she said demurely.
"Will you write every day?" pleaded Allen, leaning close, and for the moment these two were absolutely alone. "Letters are the next best thing to having you with me, Betty. And if you stop writing, I give you fair warning I'll come straight home on the next train, furlough or no furlough, to see what the matter is; and if I get shot at sunrise, so much the better. Betty, will you promise me?" He said it pleadingly.
"I—I'll try to write every day," she answered, still not daring to look at him; "but you mustn't mind if some days it's only a little line. I'm going to be terribly busy."
"I expect to be busy, too," said Allen, drawing himself up a little; "but I'd manage to find time to write to you every day if I had to let other things go."
"Allen," she laid a hand on his arm and he covered it eagerly with his own, "Iwillwrite to you every day and it will be a good long one, too."
"Not from a sense of duty?" he asked, still a little unbelieving, though his heart was throbbing painfully. "You won't write just because you'll think I'll be expecting it, Betty?"
"No," she said, her voice very low, so low that he had to bend close to catch the words. "I'll write to you, Allen—because I—can't help myself."
"Betty," he cried, "look at me."
"Th-there's the engine whistle," she said unsteadily.
"Engine whistle be hanged!" cried Allen explosively. "Betty, I want you to look at me."
Then, as she still turned from him, he deliberately put a hand beneath her chin and turned her face to meet his.
"Betty, little Betty," he cried tenderly, seeing that her eyes were wet with tears, "do you care as much as that? Little girl——"
"D-don't be nice to me," she sobbed, feeling for her handkerchief. "I don't want to c-cry. I want to send you away with a s-smile——"
"Betty," he cried, crushing her to him for a minute, as the train thundered into the station, "I love you, I love you—do you hear that? Goodbye, little girl—little girl——"
The boys tore themselves away, not daring to look back until they reached the train. And the girls stood in a pathetically brave little group, waving to them and smiling through their tears.
They watched until the train was only a dot in the far distance, then turned disconsolately away.
"Well, they're gone," said Amy, when they had walked three whole blocks in silence.
"Goodness, why don't you tell us something we don't know?" snapped Mollie. "Please forgive me, Amy," she added the next moment, as Amy's eyes filled with tears. "I know I'm a beast, but I can't seem to help it this morning."
"Only this morning?" asked Grace maliciously, and Mollie made a face at her—which went far toward making them feel more normal.
"Didn't the boys say Camp Liberty was only a couple of hundred miles from here?" asked Betty thoughtfully. Camp Liberty was the cantonment in which the boys were to receive their initial military training.
"Yes," said Mollie, glancing at her friend sharply. "Now what plan have you got up your sleeve, Betty Nelson? I never in my life saw a girl so full of plans."
"Goodness, this isn't a plan," said Betty, though her eyes brightened eagerly. "It's just a wild idea, that's all. You've all heard of the Hostess Houses they're establishing at the different camps?"
"Yes," they answered, impatient for what was to come.
"Well, Mrs. Barton Ross said that there was a Y.M.C.A. hut at Camp Liberty," Betty's face flushed with the daring of this new plan, "but that there was no Hostess House there, yet."
"Well?" they queried, not quite catching her meaning.
"Of course it's probably absurd," said the Little Captain half apologetically, "but I thought—I thought—"
"Oh, Betty, for goodness sake, what did you think?" cried Mollie, unable longer to bear the suspense.
"That—that we might work in it," finished Betty, rather expecting to be laughed at.
"Betty!" gasped Grace, standing stock-still in the middle of the sidewalk and gazing at Betty open-mouthed. "Do you suppose there's a chance that we could?"
"Betty Nelson, you're a wonder!" cried Mollie, throwing her arm about the Little Captain in a bear's hug. "I'd never have thought of that in a thousand years."
"Well, I don't know but what it was mighty foolish to think of it," said Betty ruefully. "It would be mighty hard to get our hopes all raised for nothing."
"Let's go around and see Mrs. Ross this morning," Amy suggested, adding with sublime confidence: "She'll fix it so we can go."
"I only wish I felt as sure," said Betty, still thinking how foolish she had been not to speak to Mrs. Ross about it herself before she had proposed it to the girls. Now she had got them all excited—and it was such a wild idea.
"Oh, Betty, don't be a wet blanket," said Mollie impatiently. "I'd rather have my hopes raised just to be disappointed than never to have any hopes at all."
"It would be lots of fun," Grace went on, her eyes shining at the mere thought. "We've heard so much about these Hostess Houses that I've just been crazy to see one. But to live right there at the camp——"
"We could help to see that the friends and mothers and sweethearts of the boys were made comfortable," cried Mollie enthusiastically. "And if there were too many to be entertained at the Hostess House we could get families outside to entertain them. Oh, it would be no end of fun."
"Oh, I wish I hadn't said anything," wailed the poor Little Captain. "Now if we are disappointed, as we almost certainly shall be, it will be all my fault."
"I don't know why it would be your fault," said Grace, slipping a loyal arm about her friend. "You've chased the gloom away for one morning at least, and if nothing comes of this idea, we'll at least have had the delights of anticipation."
"There's Mrs. Ross now," cried Mollie suddenly, as a figure emerged from one of the cross streets and started on ahead of them. "Let's run after her and learn our fate right away."
And they did run, with the result that a moment later Mrs. Barton Ross was surrounded by four very much excited, gesticulating and pretty girls, all talking at once and all clamoring for her attention.
She watched them a moment, admiring their flushed cheeks and bright eyes, then laughingly held up her hand.
"One at a time," she begged. "I can play a different air with each hand on the piano, but I'm not gifted enough to understand four people all talking at once. Now, if you'll just say it all over again."
"Betty, you tell her," begged Amy, and so, eagerly, Betty put her request.
"I know it's probably very foolish," she finished, anxiously watching Mrs. Ross' kindly, interested face. "But we thought, just perhaps, it might be possible."
"There's no 'just perhaps' about it," said Mrs. Ross decidedly, and the girls wondered if they could believe the evidence of their ears. "In fact," she continued, "I was going to speak to you girls about that very thing this morning. You have been so successful in rousing the general spirit here, that I thought you would be just the ones to make a Hostess House at Camp Liberty a success. Why, yes, I think it can very easily be arranged."
Then the girls forgot dignity and decorum and everything else and just celebrated. In the exuberance of their joy they hugged Mrs. Ross until she gasped for breath, then they danced off down the street on feet that scarcely touched the ground.
"Oh, it's too good to be true," cried Mollie, when at last their excitement had quieted down a little; then, gleefully, "Won't the boys be surprised?"
"Let's not tell them," Grace suggested. "It would be fun not to let them know a thing about it till we actually got there. I want to see their faces."
"Who's that?" cried Mollie, grasping Betty's arm as a man sauntered out from a cross street, glanced at them, then quickly dodged back behind a house. "It looked like——"
"It was!" finished Betty, running swiftly in the direction the man had taken.
"The spy!" gasped Amy, who with Grace, as usual, brought up the rear. "Oh, Betty, be careful! You don't want to get shot!"
Mollie and Betty, panting, just reached the end of the street in time to see the man disappearing down another and knew that pursuit was useless.
"Oh, dear!" cried Mollie, ready to cry with vexation. "If we were only half a dozen men apiece, and could have gotten our hands on him!"
"Yes, I wouldn't very much mind getting my pearl lavallière back," said Grace, as she and Amy joined them.
"And my gold watch," mourned Mollie.
"Look, girls, he dropped something," cried Betty, who had gone on a few steps in advance of them. "And it's—why, I do believe it's——"
"My opal ring!" cried Mollie, staring at it unbelievingly. "Oh, I can't believe it. Give it to me, Betty; it has my initials on the inside. Yes, that's my ring."
The ring passed from one to the other, and the girls regarded it thoughtfully.
"Which proves beyond the shadow of a doubt," said Betty at last, "that Adolph Hensler was the thief."
"Oh, if we could only have stopped him!" mourned Amy, for perhaps the eleventh time. "It's terrible to be so close and then lose sight of him again."
"If it weren't for getting back our stolen things," said Grace with a little shiver, "I'd be only too glad not to lay eyes on his beauteous countenance again. Goodness, I know I'll dream of him to-night."
They walked on after that for some time in silence, each one busy with her own absorbing thoughts. Then suddenly Betty spoke.
"Do you know, girls," she said, "I may be foolish—probably I am, but I have a strong conviction that some time we're going to meet that spy again—and the third time he isn't going to get away from us!"
The next few weeks were filled with such excitement, that the girls even forgot to miss the boys. In the letters they received from the latter—and they were many—they never failed to find comments upon this strange fact. The boys seemed to feel a little aggrieved that the girls did not weep a few more tears in the absence of their devoted swains.
"Of course I want you to be happy, Betty," Allen had written once upon this theme, "but I'd like to feel that you missed me, a little anyway. It makes a fellow feel as though it wouldn't make any difference if he disappeared off the face of the earth. If you missed me one-tenth as much as I miss you—" etc., etc., until Betty's laugh bubbled over and she patted the letter consolingly.
"Never mind, Allen, dear," she said, putting the letter away carefully in the rapidly increasing pile, tied with the blue ribbon. "If you only knew what I know, you wouldn't have time to miss me so much either. But I am glad," she added, all to herself, flushed of face and shy-eyed, "oh, so very glad, Allen, to have you miss me!"
So the days went on, drawing rapidly nearer to the date of their departure, while the excitement and good spirits of the girls rose proportionately.
About a week before the great day, they gave another of the affairs which had grown so rapidly in popularity. This time it was to raise funds for the Hostess House, and the girls gave heart and soul and all their time to make it a success.
They were to have some very elaborate tableaux with dancing afterward, and all Deepdale was on tiptoe with anticipation long before the night arrived. And how they all enjoyed it!
It spoke well for the patriotism of the young men of Deepdale that there were very few within the age of enlistment, who had not already gone to the various training camps, scattered all over the country. So there were very few at the dance, giving, as Betty's father jokingly said, a chance for the "young old men" to show their accomplishments.
And the "young old men," did so well that there had never, in all the history of Deepdale, been a merrier party. Being an age when everybody danced, up to the grandfathers of ninety, the girls had no lack of partners, and were oftentimes amazed at the skill and dexterity and lightness shown by men who were old enough to be their fathers twice over.
Of course some of them were stiff and a little "creaky in the joints," but this only added to the general hilarity, and at one o'clock the fun was still fast and furious.
"Oh, I never had such a good time," cried Mollie, sinking down beside Betty on one of the roughly improvised benches, weak from laughing. "I was just dancing with old Doctor Riley, and he kept me in stitches. Half the time he had almost to carry me around, I was laughing so."
Betty nodded and dimpled bewitchingly as Mr. Bailey, father of ten children, gallantly asked for the next dance.
"You're taking a chance, Miss Betty," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a million wrinkles as he laughed down at her. "I used to be considered a fairly good dancer in the old days, but I haven't danced in the last ten years. I watched the young folks so much, though, I thought I'd take a chance if you were willing. If I step on your toes too much we can go over and get some ice cream and cake."
"You're doing wonderfully," said Betty heartily, amazed to find how much she was really enjoying the dance. "I'm going to write to the boys, and say we don't need them any more," she added whimsically. "I'll tell them we're just beginning to appreciate their fathers!"
When it was over, their proceeds amounted to over a hundred dollars; and that was not counting an uproarious good time, that none of the young or middle-aged folk of Deepdale would ever stop talking about.
Then at last came the dawning of the great day—the day the girls had looked forward to for weeks. They woke with a strange, thrilly sensation running up and down their spines, and hearts that refused to beat normally.
In four separate houses, four separate girls dressed with trembling fingers and eyes on the clock; and four separate girls kept saying over and over again: "What will they say? What will they say?"
They met at Mollie's as usual—a tense-faced, excited little group—with parents and relatives who were going to the train to see them off.
"Have we plenty of time?" asked Amy, who for two days and nights had lived in the fear of losing that train. "I guess maybe we'd better hurry."
"Oh, there is oceans of time," Mrs. Ross assured them, who seemed, for some unaccountable reason, bent on delaying them. "The train isn't due for ten minutes yet, and then it's more than likely to be late. Besides, there are a few last words I'd like to say to you girls that can be said better here than on the station platform."
Then she started to give them some minute instructions, to which they tried hard to listen respectfully, although the mere effort to sit still was torture, and Mollie afterward said she "wanted to scream."
However, the harangue lasted at the most, two minutes—although it seemed to the girls two ages—and they were at last on their way to the station. It was not till they turned the corner that brought the familiar platform in view, that they received their first surprise.
The station was fairly thronged with people!
"Wh-what is it?" stammered Betty, rubbing her eyes to make sure she was not dreaming.
"Is everybody in Deepdale going away?" added Mollie, her eyes big with wonder.
"I've never seen so many people at the station at one time," addedGrace, bewildered.
"Do you know what it is, Mrs. Ross?" asked Amy.
But Mrs. Ross made no answer—she did not have to. The crowd at the station caught sight of the four girls, and a great shout went up.
"Hurray," cried a masculine voice. "Hurray for the Outdoor Girls.Give 'em three cheers and a tiger."
The girls stood still, amazed, bewildered, until suddenly, out of a maze of tangled thoughts, light dawned.
"They're cheeringus, Mollie," whispered Betty, squeezing Mollie's hand until it hurt—at least it would have if Mollie had noticed it. "All these people have turned out early just to see us off."
"I—I'm afraid I'm going to cry," said Mollie unsteadily.
When the shouts had died down, Doctor Riley made a speech full of true Irish wit and humor, and pathos, too, telling the girls how deeply Deepdale had appreciated the active and patriotic work they had done for their country in the time of its bitterest need and how very sorry they all were to see them go.
He went on to tell something of what the country was doing and had done, cracking a few jokes based on camp life, that almost sent the girls into hysterics—so finely balanced were they between laughter and tears. Then he ended with another eulogy of the Outdoor Girls and the hope that health and good fortune would follow them wherever they went.
He stepped down from the box on which he had been making his address just as the sharp toot of the whistle gave warning of the train's approach. Some one handed him four little corsage bouquets of carnations, which he handed in turn to each one of the tremulous girls, with an appropriate little speech to each.
With a grinding of brakes the train came to a standstill, and the crowd gave way to let them pass. Clutching the little bouquets tight and hoping desperately that they would not cry, the girls started for the train.
At the bottom of the steps Betty turned and faced them.
"You dear people," she began, but choked and had to try again. "I—we—want to thank you——" Then, as two tears forced their way through and rolled unchecked down her face, she turned and ran up the car steps.
"All we can say," she added, smiling unsteadily down at them as the train began to move, "is, just that we—we—love you all!"
Once settled comfortably in the seats, the girls smiled across at each other unsteadily.
"We didn't deserve it," said Amy, brushing away a tiresome tear that would insist upon trickling down her face.
"None of us did, except Betty," said Grace, recovering enough to open the chocolate box she had thoughtfully purchased at a drug store. "She was the one who really thought up all the things, and all we did was follow where she led."
"That's foolish, and you know it is," said Betty, beginning to get indignant. "I'd like to know how much of it I could have done without you girls! And of course the boys helped wonderfully, too."
"Goodness, what's the use of arguing?" Mollie broke in. "The fact remains that we've been cheered by a crowd of our friends, made speeches to, and presented with bouquets, and I don't care whose fault it was it all happened. I'm too happy."
"Happy," echoed Amy, gazing dreamily out of the window at the flying landscape. "I never was so happy in my life before—except for one thing." Her face clouded a little and she bit her lip.
"What one thing?" asked Mollie with interest. Grace and Betty turned to gaze at her inquiringly.
"Oh, n—nothing," stammered Amy, very much confused to find all eyes upon her. "I was just—thinking aloud, I guess."
"Well, do it some more," suggested Grace, passing her the candy."Something tells me it might be interesting."
"Goodness, it is interesting," laughed Betty, changing the subject to save Amy further embarrassment. "Have any of you girls ever heard Grace talk in her sleep?"
"Now, Betty," Grace turned upon her reproachfully. "You're never going to—"
"Yes, she is," cried Mollie gleefully. "What does she say, Betty? It ought to be good."
"I never say anything that isn't good," put in Grace primly, adding, as she saw the light of mischief in Betty's eye. "If you tell tales out of school, Betty Nelson, I'll never forgive you."
"It's awfully funny," began Betty, bubbling over, while Mollie leaned forward gleefully. "She talks in such a wee small voice, and sometimes she'll even answer questions—if you speak very coaxingly."
"I know, but what does shesay?" asked Mollie impatiently."Goodness, I've missed a lot."
"Well, I remember one conversation we had," began Betty reflectively.
"Betty," Grace broke in imploringly, "I had a mistaken notion that you were a friend of mine."
"I am, dear," answered Betty soothingly. "I won't give away any secrets—not many, anyway——"
"Betty," cried Grace desperately, "I'll stop you if I have to use force."
"We'll protect you, Betty," Mollie promised. "Go ahead, tell us about that conversation."
"It was very interesting," complied Betty, with exasperating deliberation, and eyes brimming over with fun. "It seems to me we were discussing some of the boys we knew——"
"Betty," cried poor Grace again, her face flaming, "if you say one word more, I'll never speak to you again."
"Well, in that case," said Betty, settling back and looking disappointed, "I suppose I'll have to let you out."
"That's a nice way to treat us, I should say," cried Mollie disgustedly. "Just get our curiosity aroused and then sit on it. No, you needn't try to make it up by offering me candy, Betty. I'm just peeved."
"Goodness, I seem to make enemies whatever I do," said Betty plaintively. "I tell you what I'll do," she added, seized by inspiration.
"Take care," warned Grace, her mouth full of chocolate.
"We'll wait till some night when Grace has eaten a specially large amount of chocolates and ice cream——"
"We won't have to wait long," murmured Mollie.
"And then I'll invite you all to a seance," finished Betty, sitting back and looking tremendously satisfied with herself. "Then you can question Grace for yourselves."
"But does she actually answer you?" asked Amy, still incredulous. "I've heard of people talking in their sleep, but I never heard of anybody's answering questions intelligently."
"Goodness, she doesn't!" said Betty wickedly. "How can you expect people to do in their sleep what they can't do when they're awake?"
"Betty Nelson!" cried Grace—and if looks could kill, Betty's moments would have been numbered—"that's the worst yet. Now Iamoffended."
"Oh, dear," said Betty, while the others giggled merrily. "I always seem to be getting myself in wrong. Will you pass me some candy, Grace?"
"No," said the latter firmly. "I only give candies to them what deserves 'em. Mollie, come back with those—come back with them—I tell you—"
But Mollie had whisked them off Grace's lap before she could interfere and had handed them around with great ceremony.
And so the journey continued amid a great deal of fun and merriment until the train was nearing Camp Liberty. Then the prospect of seeing the boys and surprising them made the girls so nervous they could hardly sit still.
"I did such a foolish thing," said Betty, as they, put on their wraps in a flurry of haste. "I wrote to Allen yesterday and I'll see him before he gets the letter. It would have been better to have brought it along."
A few minutes later the train drew into the station, and a quartette of very pretty girls stepped to the platform. So pretty were they, in fact, that more than one passerby turned around to look a second time.
The girls gave their trunk checks to a negro who came bustling up, stepped into a cab and, almost before they knew it, were being whirled along the streets at a reckless pace toward the Hostess House.
"Oh," gasped Amy, holding on tight to the seat. "I have worse stage fright now than I did on the night we gave the sketch. Everything's so new and strange."
"Well, what did you expect a strange city to be like?" asked Mollie practically.
In what seemed to them scarcely a second of time they had stopped before a very pretty, homelike house, and a polite chauffeur was holding the door of the cab open for them.
Still feeling as if it were all happening in a dream, they crossed the sidewalk and ran up the steps of the house. Before they had time to ring the bell a stout, middle-aged, motherly-looking woman opened the door and smiled down at them approvingly.
"Well, well," she said, holding the door wide for them, "walk right in, young ladies, and make yourselves at home."
"We expected you almost an hour sooner," she added, as the girls followed her into a big, cheerful front room. "I was rather afraid there might have been an accident on the road—there have been several lately."
"No, we were simply delayed," replied Betty with her prettiest smile—winning the woman's affections then and there. "Part of the way we could have walked faster than the train moved, I think."
"I'm Mrs. Watson," their hostess introduced herself a few minutes later, as she led the way upstairs. "Mrs. Barton Ross has no doubt told you I am representing the Y.W.C.A. here in Denton. I hope," she added, as the girls took off their coats and hats and "did things" to their hair, "that we are going to be friends."
"We shall be," chorused the girls, smiling at her happily, "if we have anything to say about it!"
After dinner, the girls were taken over their new domain, and were enthusiastic about it. There were three big parlors where the boys could entertain their friends and relatives, also bedrooms enough to accommodate some score of people over night.
"Of course, as you see, we're not nearly in shape yet," Mrs. Watson apologized, as they came back to the big front room. "There are still pictures to be hung, some draperies and odds and ends to be bought that will change the looks of the place entirely. It is with those things you girls can help me immensely, if you will."
"That's what we came for," replied Betty quickly, while the other girls looked eager. "And besides, I think it will be a lark. Somehow, nothing seems half hard or strenuous enough to do for the boys that are giving up so much for us."
"That's the spirit we like to see," said Mrs. Watson, looking at the girl's flushed face and shining eyes approvingly. "And it's the spirit," she added slowly, "that we see among nine-tenths of our girls and women these days. It's wonderful what we are accomplishing."
"It's nothing to what our boys are going to accomplish when they get into the fight," broke in Mollie, her eyes big and dark. "My one regret is that I can't put on a uniform, and fight side by side with them."
"But we can fight side by side with them," said Mrs. Watson, leaning forward very seriously. "Don't you suppose the thought of us and the certainty that we are backing them up with all our might, will be with the boys every minute while they're in the trenches, helping them to fight the Hun as they never would be able to alone?"
"Yes," said Mollie, impressed but still unconvinced. "But I should think it would help them ever so much more if we were really there in person. Women have proved themselves just as good fighters as men, you know."
"That might be all right," said Amy quietly. "But then who would stay at home to knit sweaters for them, and who would do the nursing work? We couldn't do that, and be in the trenches at the same time."
"That's the way I look at it," said Mrs. Watson, turning to the quiet girl and regarding her thoughtfully. "It seems to me we are doing far more good here at home where we've had experience, than we could possibly do in the actual fighting. But it's getting pretty late," she interrupted herself, "and you girls must be tired after your long journey. Suppose we get to bed right away, so that in the morning we can start bright and early to get things in shape."
They assented unanimously, for, although their desire for information was as unsatisfied as ever, their eyelids were heavy with sleep, and the thought of bed lured them irresistibly.
"Oh, I can't wait for the morning to come," sighed Betty, as she slipped in between the cool sheets. "It seems wicked to waste time in sleep."
"In the morning we'll work," said Mollie, her voice eager with anticipation; "and in the afternoon—"
"We'll go over and surprise the boys," finished Grace. "I can almost see their faces when we burst in upon them."
"There'll be no bursting," said Betty primly. "We've got to behave like perfectly proper young ladies."
"Oh, impossible," murmured Mollie; and five minutes later, they were all asleep.
Morning, and the sun shining brightly in the window, challenging them to action.
"Awake?" queried Mollie, leaning over and poking Betty experimentally.
"If I'm not I soon will be," said Betty, sitting up and regardingMollie indignantly. "Goodness, that's a nice thing to do to a person.Couldn't you see I was asleep?"
"I was just asking you," said Mollie twinkling. "You looked so sweet and peaceful——"
"That you needs must spoil it all," said Betty plaintively. "My, butI'd hate to have that kind of a disposition."'
"Won't you let me be your little alarm clock?" begged Mollie, leaning forward to administer another poke, which Betty skillfully dodged.
"No, I won't," she answered, adding, as she squinted out at the sun:"We don't need one in this room. We're facing directly east."
Mollie chuckled.
"Mrs. Watson made a mistake," she said, "when she put Grace and Amy in the other room. She should have put them in this one, so the sun could take our place and wake them up every morning. Betty, it's a glorious day."
"Don't you suppose I know it?" asked Betty, shaking herself impatiently, as the tang of the air and the brilliant sunshine got into her blood, making her eager for action. "And it's only six o'clock," she added, appealing to her little wrist watch. "We'll never be able to get Grace and Amy up this early."
"Won't you, though?" chuckled a voice from the doorway, and they looked up quickly to find Grace standing there, with Amy laughing at them over her shoulder. And what was still more wonderful and startling—they were dressed!
Betty and Mollie stared unbelievingly for a moment, mouths and eyes wide open, then jumped out of bed and made a rush for the conspirators.
"I don't see how you did it," gasped Mollie a few minutes later, when they stopped for lack of breath. "There wasn't a sound——"
"Yes, there were, lots of them," said Grace, stopping before a mirror to tuck in a stray lock that had come loose in the general confusion. "Only you and Betty were talking so hard and fast, you didn't hear us. Goodness, but I'm hungry."
As this was the case with them all, and as the savory odor of bacon and eggs was wafted up to them at the moment from below stairs, they wasted scant time in making their way to it.
And after breakfast what a busy morning they spent! Never in all their active lives could they remember anything to equal it. Downtown first of all to shop under Mrs. Watson's guidance, in stores that were so different from those in Deepdale, that they were in great danger of becoming hopelessly confused.
However, they eventually "got their bearings," as the boys would have said, and came home at last laden with parcels, and very much satisfied with themselves.
After luncheon, which was extremely well-cooked and tasted, oh, so good! Mrs. Watson proposed the one thing they wanted most to do.
"Suppose," she suggested, as they rose from the table, "that we call this a day and spend the afternoon in getting acquainted with the cantonment. It's extremely interesting, especially for those who have never been through one before. What do you say?"
What they said was enough to convince her she could not have struck upon a happier plan. Half an hour later, all talking at once and tremendously excited, they set out upon their tour of inspection.
Betty drew Grace a little apart from the others and they held a whispered consultation.
"What shall we do?" asked the former nervously. "Shall we send the orderly to hunt up the boys and bring them to us, or shall we just wait until we meet them by chance?"
"We might be here a week without doing that," said Grace, looking about at the scores of olive drab figures. "And in the meantime, they'd think it was very strange we didn't write to them."
"I suppose you're right," said Betty reluctantly, "but the other way would be so much more fun."
At this moment Mrs. Watson and the two other girls beckoned to them to hurry, and they had no chance for further conversation.
Then, just as Betty was about to broach the subject of the boys toMrs. Watson, the unexpected happened.
A khaki-clad figure, cutting across their path at a dead run, almost collided with them, paused to gasp an apology, stopped still and stared. It was Allen!
"Betty!" he cried, with eyes for only one of them. "Wh—what are you doing here?"
"Just what you're doing," said Betty with spirit, though she was blushing furiously. "Helping Uncle Sam!"
"But wh-what?" stammered Allen, while Mrs. Watson looked on in amazement. "Wh-why didn't you let a fellow know?"
"We wanted to surprise you," said Betty gleefully, noting with pride how splendid he looked in his uniform. "You don't seem at all glad to see us. Mrs. Watson," remembering her manners in the nick of time, "this is a friend of ours from Deepdale—Allen Washburn. He didn't know we were coming."
"So I see," smiled Mrs. Watson, shaking hands warmly with Allen. "I'm very glad to know you, Mr. Washburn, and I hope we shall see you often at the Hostess House."
"It's very good of you," said Allen, still very much in the dark, and totally unable to keep his eyes from Betty's face. "Did you say the Hostess House?"
"Yes. That's what we came down for," said Mollie, who had been quiet just about as long as she could. "To help run it, you know—and everything."
"Especially 'everything,'" drawled Grace.
"Say, that's great!" cried Allen, beginning to see light. "You mean you're going to stay here—maybe for weeks—and see that everybody has a good time—us included? Gee, what luck!"
"I'm glad you think so," said Betty demurely, while Allen wished desperately to have her alone. "What were you in such a hurry about, when you nearly ran into us?" she asked, with interest.
"I was going to look up Frank and Roy, to tell them we'd been granted our five-day furlough. We were going to make a bee line home to Deepdale. Now," he added, eyes still on Betty's averted face, "we won't have to!"
Mrs. Watson smiled sympathetically, and, being an ardent matchmaker, looked forward to having even more of an interesting season than she had expected.
"And it's the greatest luck ever," Allen continued enthusiastically, as they walked slowly across the parade ground, "that we happened to get our furlough just now. What are you girls doing this afternoon?"
"Seeing the sights," said Mollie. "We're taking a half-holiday."
"Gee!" cried Allen, fairly capering in his delight. "This is altogether too good to be true. Wait till I tell the fellows."
"Oh, but we want to surprise them," said Grace, stopping short and looking abused. "When we've come all this distance to do it, it isn't fair for you to have all the fun."
"All right, you stay here then," said Allen, conducting them around the corner of one of the low wooden buildings, which the girls afterward learned was the mess hall. "I'll look up the fellows, and lead the poor unsuspecting——"
"Goodness, you'd think we were going to murder them," broke in Mollie impatiently. "I wish you'd do something and not talk so much."
"Anything to oblige—see you later." Allen saluted smartly and went off briskly in search of the other boys.
Betty's eyes almost unconsciously followed the fine, stalwart figure till it disappeared around the corner of one of the buildings, and Mollie, who had been watching her closely, suddenly put an arm about her in a little impulsive hug.
"Heissplendid, dear," she whispered, and once more Betty flushed to the roots of her pretty hair.
They had only a few minutes to wait before Allen came striding back to them, with two other khaki-clad figures. The girls shrank farther back into the shadows of the building. Not until they were almost upon them did the boys catch sight of them. Then Roy and Frank just stood still and gaped, as Allen had done.
"Great jumping jerushaphat!" cried Roy, at last finding his tongue."If it isn't the very people we wanted most to see in this world.Welcome, little strangers! Oh, gee, but you're welcome!"
Then Frank added some equally incoherent phrases, and for a few moments confusion reigned, while they shook hands over and over again, all talked at once to nobody in particular, and generally enjoyed themselves.
"And the best part of it is," said Roy enthusiastically, "that we can be free to show you girls about the place. And I tell you, it's something to see!"
Before the girls had been half shown about the place, they more than agreed with him. It was wonderfully inspiring, to see those hundreds of boys, with their splendidly trained young bodies and their determined young faces, knowing they were devoting their lives freely and cheerfully to the greatest cause in all history.
The girls peeped into the long, low buildings that were the sleeping quarters of the men, with their cots all in a row and clothes hung neatly along the wall. They saw the guardhouse, where unruly soldiers were confined and forced to a state of reasonableness.
They regarded it with awe, and Amy even backed away from it a little.
"I don't like barred windows," she said. "It always makes me shiver."
"Humph," said Mollie, the irrepressible. "You'd better get used to them, Amy, dear. Some day we'll be feeding the boys peanuts through the bars."
"Gee, isn't she complimentary?" said Roy, as they walked on. "You don't know what models of deportment we've been since we came here."
"Yes," put in Grace sweetly, "they say military training does work miracles!"
"It's too bad you missed guard mount this morning," said Allen, while the rest laughed at Roy's discomfiture.
"That's when they change the guard, isn't it?" asked Betty.
"Yes, and they're very formal about it," Allen continued. "It's really very impressive, and the band is a joy forever. You must get up bright and early in the morning."
"As if we didn't always," said Betty indignantly.
"Oh, listen to the music," cried Amy, her head on one side like a bird. "Isn't it great? I simply can't keep my feet still."
"It's over at the other end of the parade," said Frank, takingGrace's arm and leading her in the direction of the stirring strains."Every nice afternoon they have a concert from three to four. It'smighty fine, too."
"Oh, I'm so glad I came," cried Betty, to whom music was like the wine of life.
"So am I," said Allen, drawing her away from the party and speaking softly. "I've seen your face so often in my dreams, Betty, that when you suddenly appeared before me I thought for a minute it was just another of them—more real and vivid, but still a dream. And you are a dream, Betty, the most wonderful dream in all the world!"
"Hush, Allen," she begged, though her heart was beating suffocatingly and she hardly dared to look at him. "Everybody is staring at us."
"At you, you mean." Allen looked about fiercely at his comrades, who indeed seemed very much attracted by his pretty companion. "I see where I'll have to lick the whole camp."
Betty's laugh rippled out merrily, and Allen looked more belligerent than ever.
"Don't think I could do it, I suppose," he was beginning, when they came suddenly upon the other members of the party, who were waiting for them.
"Betty, isn't it wonderful?" cried Mollie, lips parted, eyes shining as she slipped an arm through Betty's. "Now I want more than ever to be a soldier."
They enjoyed every minute of that hour's concert, and then felt abused because they could not have more. After that they visited the Y.M.C.A. hut, saw the officers' quarters from the outside, and otherwise amused themselves till the boys declared there was nothing more to be seen.
Then, just as the sun was sinking, the clear notes of the bugle broke in upon the evening stillness, and the girls glanced inquiringly at their escorts.
"That's retreat," Allen explained. "If you stand here, you can watch it at close quarters. Here come all the fellows. They have to stand at parade rest, left knee bent, weight on the right foot, guns held in front of them, till the old gun goes off."
"Gun?" Amy repeated questioningly, while the girls watched the ceremony with beating hearts.
"Yes. At reveille the morning gun goes off; and at retreat, the evening," Allen explained. "When you hear the gun to-night, just click your heels and stand at attention like all the rest of us."
Boom! The girls jumped but retained presence of mind enough to stand at attention as Allen had cautioned them. The boys were standing stiff and straight as ramrods, hands at salute, their young faces grave and tense.
The band played the "Star-Spangled Banner," and never had it thrilled the girls as it thrilled them now. It brought tears to their eyes, yet they wanted to shout with pride and patriotism. Their star-spangled banner, oh, long might it wave, o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
"Allen, Allen!" cried Betty when it was all over and they had turned away, "I'm proud, so proud, just to be—an American!"
For the girls during the happy, work-filled, pleasure-filled days that followed, only one cloud darkened the horizon. That was the continued strange behavior of Will Ford.
About a week after their arrival, Grace had received a letter from him, saying that he was coming on for an indefinite stay. Betty found her friend with the letter clenched tight in one hand, while the other crushed a handkerchief into a hard little ball.
"Why, Grace, what is the matter?" Betty sat down beside her and slipped a sympathetic arm about her shoulders. "Tell me, have you had bad news?"
"No, I suppose you couldn't exactly call it that," said Grace wearily, folding up the letter and replacing it carefully in its envelope. "As a rule I'd think it was mighty good news. Will is coming to Camp Liberty."
"Oh, has he enlisted, after all?" cried Betty impulsively, and the next minute could have bitten her tongue out for her thoughtlessness.
The tears had risen to Grace's eyes and she had turned away.
"No," she said, very softly. "He hasn't enlisted."
Betty's brow puckered in bewilderment.
"Did he say why he was coming on?" she asked, not knowing just what to say.
"He said he was coming on business," Grace replied listlessly, then added, with a sudden fierce outburst of emotion: "I wish he'd stay in Deepdale. I wish, if he can't be honorable and live up to his ideals like the other boys, he wouldn't come where they are. If he is my brother, I'm ashamed——"
"Hush, Grace, hush," cried Betty soothingly, putting a firm hand over her friend's mouth. "You're all excited and worked up now or you wouldn't say such things. Didn't I tell you before that Will has his reasons? Are you going to let a friend have more faith in him than his own sister?"
"Betty Nelson," Grace began angrily, then broke down and began to sob weakly. "I can't help it," she said, as Betty tried to comfort her. "I've always loved Will so, and been so proud of him. He's been such a good brother, too! I simply can't understand it!"
"Never mind," went on Betty soothingly, trying desperately to think of something really comforting to say. "Maybe after Will gets here he'll explain things. Till then, as my mother says, we'll just be 'canty wi' thinkin' aboot it.'"
But when the conversation was reported to the other girls, it troubled them a good deal, and they longed to solve the mystery. And when Will came he refused to be of any help whatever, keeping almost entirely to himself, and answering questions put to him vaguely, if at all. His actions became more and more mysterious, and it was absolutely impossible to make him out.
"Just leave him alone," was Allen's advice, and the girls were reluctantly obliged to follow it.
"But I wish I knew!" sighed Betty.
"Yes," was all Allen answered.
Then something happened that for a time drove the mystery from their minds. It was after a particularly long and hard day, when the girls had been entertaining at the Hostess House all morning and part of the afternoon.
Then about three or four o'clock in the afternoon, they had gone downtown to do some very necessary shopping, and had been unable to get back to dinner till seven o'clock; and that evening the boys had arranged to take them to the theater.
By the time it was all over, and the boys had left them at theHostess House, they were very, very tired and very, very happy.
"I never felt so sleepy in my life," said Grace, sitting down on the edge of the bed and stretching her arms above her head. "And yet we've had such a good time. If somebody doesn't give me another chocolate I won't be able to stay awake long enough to get undressed. Thanks, Amy, you always were a friend of mine."
"Well, I never laughed so much in my life," declared Mollie, pulling off her slipper and wiggling her toes contentedly. "I think it's perfectly wonderful to go out with the boys in uniform. They look so splendid and we feel so very important."
"Goodness, don't you think they feel important, too?" yawned Grace."I know that Teddy Challenger does."
Teddy Challenger was a new-made friend of the boys, whom Allen had brought along for Amy, Will having refused to make one of the party on the plea of having important business to attend to.
"Oh, I don't know," said Betty, thoughtfully running the comb through her hair. "He seems like a mighty nice fellow to me and the boys all like him."
"Well, Allen won't, if Teddy doesn't mind his P's and Q's," said Mollie, with a wickedly significant glance at Betty, which caused that young person to flush prettily.
"I don't even know what you mean," she announced demurely, and they all laughed at her.
"I wish you people would stop talking," Grace broke in plaintively."I've simply got to get some sleep!"
And they slept the hearty sleep of tired girlhood till about four o'clock in the morning. Then Amy, in the room next to Betty and Mollie, rubbed her eyes, coughed a little, then sat up with a cry of alarm.
Smoke was curling thickly in around the crack in the door and the air was hot and suffocating. Somewhere the sound of crackling, snapping wood, the lurid flare of flames——
"Fire! fire!" she gasped, struggling to her feet and feeling blindly for her clothes. "Grace, Grace, wake up! Grace——" her voice rose to a scream as she saw that Grace was sleeping on.
"Oh, please, please wake up," she moaned, seizing Grace by the shoulders and shaking her wildly. "You must, you must! Grace, the house is on fire!"
Slowly the heavy eyelids opened, then Grace struggled to a sitting posture, supported by Amy's quivering arm, and gazed wildly about her. Then she sprang to her feet, swaying dizzily, and with Amy's arm still about her, they felt blindly for the door.
They found the knob at last and, after a nightmare moment when the flames roared louder, and the smoke clutched viciously at their throats, flung the door open and staggered into the hall.
A blast of heat and smoke sent them reeling back into the room. Amy closed the door with a little moan.
"The other stairs!" gasped Grace, fairly dragging her friend forward."Maybe—it hasn't reached—them—yet——"
"There's—Mollie and—Betty," cried Amy, clutching at her throat and coughing spasmodically. In the frantic terror of the moment they had forgotten everything but their own great danger.
"We must—get—them—out!" gasped Grace, rushing into their chums' room and frantically shaking Betty, while Amy vainly tried to waken Mollie. The girls still slept on in the semblance of ordinary, healthy slumber.
"What can we do?" cried Amy hysterically. "We can't leave them here, and we can't——"
"Come on! We've got to—get some—help!" Grace fumbled for the knob and finally succeeded in getting the door opened.
As they had hoped, the stairway at the rear of the house was still intact, although the smoke was so dense they had to feel every inch of the way.
Oh, the nightmare of it! Long years afterward the girls would live it over again in their dreams, and wake up drenched in perspiration, quivering and shaking with terror.
When they finally reached the outer air they were smoke begrimed, wild-eyed and the tears were rolling down their faces unnoticed and unchecked.
The fire, which had started inside, and had gained a good foothold before any trace of it could be seen from the outside, had been discovered by one of the guards, who had immediately sent in an alarm. Already the shriek of the fire engine could be heard, soldiers were being hurried out from the barracks to help in the rescue work, and all was noise and confusion.
A group of women who had escaped from the house before the girls, and who stood huddled together in a terrified group, rushed forward at sight of them, and gathered about them eagerly.
But Grace was not to be detained. She pushed ruthlessly past the women, and ran to intercept a group of firemen who were rushing down upon them.
"Two girls," she gasped, catching one of them by the arm and holding on desperately. "At the head of the stairs—unconscious—get them——"
And then Grace, who had done her gallant best, tumbled down in a little heap, having fainted.