The Outdoor Girls in Army Service | Page 7

still in the first stages of civilization."
"Yes, and the worst part of this kind of warfare," said Frank, his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the horizon, "is that each man in the army is simply a unit in a great machine. In the old days, when they had cavalry charges and hand-to-hand fighting there was some romance, some adventure, some chance for personal bravery."
"Well, of course there is still some chance for daring," remarked Allen, "especially in the aviation branch of the service."
"In the army too," added Roy. "Soldiers are being decorated every day for some special act of bravery."
"I know all that," replied Frank. "But there's nothing particularly spectacular about it."
"And yet," said Betty thoughtfully, "I should think that kind of fighting would take more courage than the other. To stand day after day in those horrible trenches waiting for orders. And then when they do finally make a charge, nothing much seems to be gained by it."
"Yes, the waiting must be the hardest part," agreed Allen. "We met an Englishman in town," he added, smiling at the recollection, "and he was a mighty interesting chap."
"You said it," agreed Frank heartily. "He's been through some of the heaviest fighting, and to hear him tell some of his experiences is better than a dozen lectures. I wish we could have brought him along so you girls could have heard him."
"I don't," Roy interjected. "He was too good-looking."
"All the more reason why you should have brought him," yawned Grace. "It would be a treat to have around something good to look at."
"Whew," whistled Frank. "That was a bad one, Gracie. We know we're not Adonises--"
"I'm glad you know something," Grace was beginning, when once more Betty interrupted her.
"Oh dear!" she said, "if you don't hurry, the biscuits will be done, and we won't have heard anything about the nice Englishman. And I'm very much interested."
"Oh, you are, are you?" said Allen, sitting up. "I begin to think we made a mistake in mentioning that Englishman. I think we must have dreamed him, fellows."
"Oh, he was real enough," put in Frank. "But I shouldn't wonder if he dreamt some of those adventures. They sounded too good to be true."
"Perhaps you've heard that old saying," Grace remarked, with her usual languor, "that truth is stranger than fiction?"
"Oh, hurry," begged Betty. "The biscuits are almost done; I can smell them."
"So can I," said Roy, with another longing sniff. "Don't let 'em burn, will you, Betty?"
"I will, if somebody doesn't satisfy my curiosity, right away," threatened the Little Captain, her lips set threateningly. "Now, will you be good?"
"Gee, Allen, did you hear that?" Roy's expression was pathetic. "Hurry it up, will you?"
"Well," began Allen with aggravating deliberation, "he was a tall, lean, rangy fellow with sandy hair and twinkling eyes. Seems he had been wounded several times, and the last shot had cost him his right arm."
"Oh," cried Mollie, her eyes like two saucers. "How did that happen?"
"Bomb exploding close to him shot it all to pieces," explained Allen cryptically. "Of course it had to be amputated, permanently disabling him. That's why he was sent across to America--to stimulate recruiting."
"As if we needed any stimulating," said Mollie indignantly. "You don't have to stand behind our boys with a gun to make them go."
"Of course not," agreed Allen. "Just the same, it's almost impossible for us over here, with the broad Atlantic separating us from the scene of conflict, actually to realize what we're up against. That's why it's good to have a fellow like this Englishman, who has really been right in the thick of it, relate his own experiences. While he was talking you could almost hear the thunder of cannon and the bursting of shells. I tell you, we fellows felt like shouldering our guns, and marching over right away."
"Oh, it's wonderful to be a man these days," sighed Mollie. "You can get right in the thick of it, while all we can do is stay home and root for you."
"Well, that's a lot," said Frank soberly. "Just to feel that you girls are backing us up, and that there's somebody who cares whether we give a good account of ourselves or not, makes all the difference in the world."
"But that's not all we can do," cried Betty, her eyes shining with the light of resolution. "There's real work enough to keep us busy all day long. Girls, I've got a plan!"
"What?" they cried, leaning forward eagerly.
"I'm going to join the Red Cross!"

CHAPTER IV
THE POWDER MILL
"Who's game for a paddle?"
"I am!"
"And I!"
"Oh, it's the most wonderful night in the world for canoeing!"
"And there's going to be a moon, too!"
"Nobody seems to be eager or anything like that," remarked Frank, strolling out on the veranda, and regarding the enthusiastic group with a smile on his