he gets ready he'll tell us about them. In the meantime, how about some biscuits, Betty?"
"Yes, how about them?" added Roy, rousing to sudden life. "We've done our duty--now we want the reward."
"Goodness, you haven't done anything," said Grace loftily, as the Little Captain vanished within the house, followed by black-eyed Mollie. "You just sit around and let all the others do the work and then take the credit to yourself."
"That's all right if you can get away with it," grinned Allen. "Besides," he added, with a humorous glance at Grace's languid figure, "you don't look the soul of energy yourself this morning, Miss Ford."
"Looks are often deceitful," retorted Grace, languidly turning the heel of her sock. "If you had to knit all day long, every day in the week, you'd find out what work is."
"Well, you don't have to do it," returned Roy placidly.
"Yes," said gentle Amy, roused to sudden indignation. "That's all the credit we get. Goodness knows, we're glad enough to do the work, but we do like it to be appreciated."
Roy turned half way round, and regarded Amy's flying fingers and bent head soberly for a moment.
"I'm sorry," he said then, so gravely that she looked up in surprise, and even Grace stopped knitting. "I didn't mean that we fellows don't appreciate what you girls are doing for us. We do--and there'll come a time when we'll appreciate it still more. When we're in the trenches up to our knees in mud and water, when the wind finds the chinks in our clothing, and freezes us to the bone, when--"
"Oh, please don't!" cried Amy, clapping her hands to her ears. "I can't even bear to think of those things."
"Yet those are some of the things we've got to think about," said Roy, still with that unusual gravity. "It's because you girls have thought of those things, that you're giving your time and energy to preparing for them, and warding them off. Please don't ever again think that we're ungrateful."
"We won't," said Amy softly, fighting back a sudden mistiness which had come before her eyes. "We'll just go on knitting ten times harder than before."
"I think we're missing something," came Betty's voice from the doorway, where she stood with her arm intertwined in Mollie's. "The biscuits are in the oven now, and we're going to talk to you while they're baking." "Will it take long?" asked Roy, sniffing hungrily.
"I like that," said Betty, with a little grimace, as she flung herself upon the top step, pulling Mollie down beside her. "When Roy has to choose between biscuits and us--"
"We're not in it," finished Mollie with a merry laugh.
Roy looked pained.
"I never said that, did I?" he inquired. "I haven't had the painful necessity of making a choice yet."
"What were you talking about so earnestly when we came out?" queried Betty. "Roy looked solemn, Grace looked surprised, Amy looked exalted, and Allen was thoughtful, while Frank looked as though-- well, as though he were seeing visions."
"All I have to do is turn my head to see visions," Frank returned gallantly, suiting the action to the word. "Gee, I never saw a crowd of prettier girls."
"Hey, you're going to get an extra biscuit for that," put in Roy, raising himself on his elbow and looking alarmed. "Just because you're a better flatterer than I am--"
"Oh, hush, hush," protested Betty, showing all her dimples--Allen was watching, so we have his authority for it. "You boys can never get to the point, unless we happen to be talking of something to eat. Allen, what were they talking about?"
Allen roused himself from the happy reverie into which Betty's dimples had thrown him, and responded good-naturedly. Allen was invariably good-natured.
"We were talking about some of the things we may be up against, when we find ourselves in the trenches, face to face with the enemy," he said. "Also we were saying that these sweaters, and mufflers and socks you are knitting, will come in mighty handy over there."
A shadow crossed Betty's bright face, and she leaned forward to pick up the discarded paper she had thrown upon the porch.
"'The enemy attacked in force our lines south of Cambrai,'" she read, with puckered brow. "'The enemy succeeded in gaining a foothold in our first line trenches, but were later driven back. The fighting on both sides was sanguinary, and heavy losses were sustained!'"
She flung the paper from her, and regarded her friends with flaming eyes, and both little fists clenched close at her sides.
"It doesn't seem as though it could be real!" she cried. "Men killing each other off by the hundreds and all for--what? Oh, it's cruel, cruel!"
"Of course it's cruel," said Alien grimly. "But so were the Huns cruel, centuries ago. The German people have simply never advanced beyond that state. They're
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