"You and father were planning to go over there just before the war broke out, weren't you, Mother?" asked Frank.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Sheldon. "And for two reasons. I was wild to see the dear homeland again, and then, too, I felt I ought to go to see about the property my father, your grandfather, left me. But then your dear father died, and after that I had no heart to go. Nor could I have gone anyway, had I wished, for the war would have made it almost impossible."

"Well, we don't care much for the property, Mother," said Frank.

"While I've got two strong arms I'll support you. And yet," he added, a little more thoughtfully, "it wouldn't have been a bad thing if we had been able to sell it so that you could have the money now when I am liable to be called away. We've got only this house and the little money that dad left us, and I'm afraid you will have all you can do to get along."

"Don't worry about me," replied the mother in a tone that strove to be cheerful. "You know I have the true French thrift--you've said yourself that I am a wonderful manager--I can make a little money go a long way. The only reason I ever cared for the property was for your sake, so that you could get a good start in the world. I don't know now that we can ever get it. It was tangled up in a lawsuit and that was one of the reasons why I ought to have been there in person when the estate was being settled."

"Never mind, little Mother," cried Frank gaily, "I'm the richest fellow in the world this minute with such a mother as you are."

He gave her a quick embrace and kiss and hurried out of the house, for he had been away from the office considerably longer than usual. But quick as was the time he made in getting downtown, the news of his exploit had preceded him and he found the place buzzing with excitement.

Bart, who had let the story lose nothing in the telling, gave him a resounding thump on the back as he came in.

"Here's the fellow that made the Hun eat crow," he cried, jubilantly.

"And from all accounts it didn't agree with him," grinned Tom. "It was a dandy bit of work, Frank. I only wish I'd been there to see you make the Hun kiss the flag."

"Bully for you, old scout!" cried Hal. "There's a lot of other fellows in this town that ought to get the same treatment. I know some of them that had a regular party the day the news came that the _Lusitania_ was sunk."

"I heard of that, too," said Frank. "But we want to remember, fellows, that not all Germans felt that way. Some of them felt just as shocked and outraged over it as we did ourselves. There are lots of fellows with German blood in their veins that are just as good Americans as we are."

"I suppose there are," conceded Bart, a little grudgingly. "Not all of them are tarred with the same brush. But there are too many of them who regard Germany as their father and America as their father-in-law, and you know which one of the two a fellow is apt to like better."

Just then Rabig pa.s.sed through the room on his way to another part of the building. He cast a sour look upon the group, and there was special malignity in his gaze as it rested for a moment on Frank.

"You're about as popular with Rabig as a rattlesnake is with a picnic party," laughed Bart, as Rabig went on. "If looks could kill you'd be a dead man this minute. He hated you before, but he hates you worse now since he's heard of that little fracas. Gee, how I'd like to see him have to kneel and kiss the flag!"

"He'd try to bite it," put in Reddy.

At this moment a group of newsboys pa.s.sed outside, shouting their extras.

"I guess that means the President's gone and done it," cried Frank.

"Here, Reddy, take this dime and go out and get one of those papers.

If you're back in half a minute you can keep the change."

"Whoop-ee!" cried Reddy, and was off like a bullet from a gun. Soon he was back with the coveted paper, still damp from the press.

Across the top in screaming headlines was the phrase:

_President Declares War on Germany!_

"That settles it," said Frank. "We're in for it, now."

"Up to the neck," put in Reddy, whose small frame held an unlimited amount of patriotism. "Gee, I wish I was old enough to get in it. I wouldn't wait for no draft!"

"And now that we're in, we're in for keeps. That's America's way,"

said Bart.

"She's put her hand to the plow and she won't turn back," said old Peterson, solemnly, and into his dim eyes came the light that had shone there when, in his youth, he had stormed with his regiment the heights of Lookout Mountain.

There was little more work done in the office that day. Business, for the time, seemed a trivial thing. Something far greater and n.o.bler filled the hearts of these ardent young Americans.

They heard the tramp of marching mult.i.tudes, they saw their country's flag unfurled, those glorious Stars and Stripes, that had never been smirched with dishonor, or gone down in defeat. And in their hearts they swore that what had been true in the past should be true, too, in the future, though they might shed their blood and lose their lives in making it true.

A great ma.s.s meeting was organized that night and Bart and Frank attended it. The hall was thronged, and eloquent speakers voiced the feeling that filled the hearts of all. But nothing stirred them so strongly as when the final orator closed his speech with a scathing denunciation of the Prussian foe, quoted from one of America's n.o.blest sons:

"They have gone forth to battle in the spirit of their ancestral Huns.

Wreckers of cathedrals, destroyers of libraries, despoilers of cemeteries, slayers of old men and women and children, barbarians by instinct, pirates and incendiaries by practice, terrorists by training, slaves by habit and bullies by profession--maiming, poisoning, burning, suffocating, deporting, enslaving, murderers of the very souls of a people so far as it is in their power--the rest of the world can live on terms of peace and good will with them only after they have drained to the dregs the bitter cup of military defeat!"

Thunders of applause swept through the hall as the speaker finished.

"Say, but that was a rattling speech," remarked Bart, as the two chums walked home together.

"Yes," agreed Frank, "it was magnificent. But after all, Bart, it will take more than words to win this war. It's up to us to turn those words into deeds. It's bullets and bayonets that count!"

CHAPTER VII

FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY

Although it was nearly midnight when he reached home, Frank found his mother sitting up and waiting for him.

"You shouldn't have sat up for me, Mother," he said, in tones of tender reproach. "It's too bad that you should be robbed of your sleep like this."

"I don't mind as long as I know you're coming," replied his mother.

"It is the other nights I shall dread, the nights when I shall not hear your footsteps on the porch, and I'm afraid that time is coming very soon."

"I fear it is, Mother," he replied gently. "There's only one thing left for me to do. I have felt it before, but I feel it more than ever after what I've heard to-night. I wish you'd been there, Mother, and heard the unbelievable things I did about the way the Germans are carrying on this war. And yet again I'm glad you weren't, for it would have turned your very soul sick. There's no use talking, the Prussian spirit must be crushed, and until it is, this world won't be a fit place to live in."

"I know you are right, dear," responded Mrs. Sheldon. "And though it breaks my heart to have you go, I'll give you up as cheerfully as I can and try to live through the long days when you're away from me. Of one thing I feel sure, that wherever you go, or whatever your country calls upon you to do, you'll make me proud of you."

"I'll do my best, Mother," Frank replied. "I'm not going for glory or for promotion or anything else except to see my country win the war.

All I ask is a chance to do my bit."

Camport was a changed city the next day. A new spirit and new purpose were visible in the looks of all. The long strain of waiting was over and America was girding herself for the fight.

"Well," old Peterson was saying as Frank entered the office, "it's up to you young fellows to show that America's still got the stuff. I only wish I were young enough to shoulder a gun and go myself."

"You've done your share, Mr. Peterson," said Bart. "If the boys of to-day do as well as those who wore the blue and gray they'll show the Prussians where they get off."

"It will make a big change in this place," said the old bookkeeper, as he looked around at the group of eager faces. "You young roosters all seem to be aching to get into the sc.r.a.p, and there won't be any of you left."

"Rabig will be here," piped up Reddy, and there was a general laugh.

"I could spare him," growled old Peterson, with whom Rabig was about as unpopular as he was with the younger men.