"I cannot help it," he said at length. "All my switches run the same way."

They had almost finished when Professor Schaefer came into the dining hall, spied them and hastened over to them.

"Here's this German beast," said Dean.

"Steady, Dean. We do business with him," said his father.

"All right, Father," replied the boy.

The Professor drew in a chair and sat down. He only wanted a light lunch and if they would allow him he would break in just where they were. He was full of excitement over the German successes on sea and on land.

"On land?" said Raeder. "Well, I should not radiate too freely about their land successes. What about the Marne?"

"The Marne!" said Schaefer in hot contempt. "The Marne--strategy--strategy, my dear sir. But wait. Wait a few days. If we could only get that boasted British navy to venture out from their holes, then the war would be over. Mark what happens in the Pacific.

Scientific gunnery, three salvos, two hundred minutes from the first gun. It is all over. Two British ships sunk to the bottom. That is the German way. They would force war upon Germany. Now they have it. In spite of all the Kaiser's peace efforts, they drove Germany into the war."

"The Kaiser!" exclaimed Larry, unable any longer to contain his fury.

"The Kaiser's peace efforts! The only efforts that the Kaiser has made for the last few years are efforts to bully Europe into submission to his will. The great peace-maker of Europe of this and of the last century was not the Kaiser, but King Edward VII. All the world knows that."

"King Edward VII!" sputtered Schaefer in a fury of contempt. "King Edward VII a peacemaker! A ----!" calling him a vile name. "And his son is like him!"

The foul word was like a flame to powder with Larry. His hand closed upon his gla.s.s of water. "You are a liar," he said, leaning over and thrusting his face close up to the German. "You are a slanderous liar."

He flung his gla.s.s of water full into Schaefer's face, sprang quickly to his feet, and as the German rose, swung with his open hand and struck hard upon the German's face, first on one cheek and then on the other.

With a roar Schaefer flung himself at him, but Larry in a cold fury was waiting for him. With a stiff, full-armed blow, which carried the whole weight of his body, he caught him on the chin. The professor was lifted clear over his chair. Crashing back upon the floor, he lay there still.

"Good boy, Larry," shouted Dean. "Great G.o.d! You did something that time."

Silent, white, cold, rigid, Larry stood waiting. More than any of them he was amazed at what he had done. Some friends of the Professor rushed toward them.

"Stand clear, gentlemen," said Raeder. "We are perfectly able to handle this. This man offered my friend a deadly insult. My friend simply antic.i.p.ated what I myself would gladly have done. Let me say this to you, gentlemen, for some time he and those of his kind have made themselves offensive. Every man is ent.i.tled to his opinion, but I have made up my mind that if any German insults my friends the Allies in my presence, I shall treat him as this man has been treated."

There was no more of it. Schaefer's friends after reviving him led him off. As they pa.s.sed out of the dining hall Larry and his friends were held up by a score or more of men who crowded around him with warm thanks and congratulations. The affair was kept out of the press, but the news of it spread to the limits of clubland. The following day Raeder thought it best that they should lunch again together at the University Club. The great dining-room was full. As Raeder and his company entered there was first a silence, then a quick hum of voices, and finally applause, which grew in volume till it broke into a ringing cheer. There was no longer any doubt as to where the sympathy of the men of the University Club, at least, lay in this world conflict.

Two days later a telegram was placed upon Larry's desk. Opening it, he read, "Word just received Jack Romayne killed in action." Larry carried the telegram quietly into the inner office and laid it upon his chief's desk.

"I can stand this no longer, sir," he said in a quiet voice. "I wish you to release me. I must return to Canada. I am going to the war."

"Very well, my boy," said Mr. Wakeham. "I know you have thought it over.

I feel you could not do otherwise. I, too, have been thinking, and I wish to say that your place will await you here and your salary will go on so long as you are at the war. No! not a word! There is not much we Americans can do as yet, but I shall count it a privilege as an American sympathising with the Allies in their great cause to do this much at least. And you need not worry about that coal mine. Dean has been telling me about it. We will see it through."

CHAPTER XXIV

THE MAJOR AND THE MAJOR'S WIFE

When Larry went to take farewell of the Wakehams he found Rowena with Hugo Raeder in the drawing-room.

"You are glad to leave us," said Rowena, in a tone of reproach.

"No," said Larry, "sorry. You have been too good to me."

"You are glad to go to war?"

"No; I hate the war. I am not a soldier, but, thank G.o.d, I see my duty, and I am going to have a go at it."

"Right you are," said Hugo. "What else could any man do when his country is at war?"

"But I hate to go," said Larry, "and I hate this business of saying good-bye. You have all been so good to me."

"It was easy," said Rowena. "Do you know I was on the way to fall in love with you? Hugo here and Jane saved me. Oh, I mean it," she added, flushing as she laughed.

"Jane!" exclaimed Larry.

"Yes, Jane. Oh, you men are so stupid," said Rowena. "And Hugo helped me out, too," she added, with a shy glance at him.

Larry looked from one to the other, then rushed to Hugo. "Oh, you lucky beggar! You two lucky beggars! Oh, joy, glory, triumph! Could anything be finer in the wide world?" cried Larry, giving a hand to each.

"And, Larry, don't be a fool," said Rowena. "Try to understand your dear, foolish heart, and don't break your own or any one's else."

Larry gazed at her in astonishment and then at Hugo, who nodded wisely at him.

"She is quite right, Larry. I want to see that young lady Jane. She must be quite unique. I owe her something."

"Good-bye, then," said Larry. "I have already seen your mother.

Good-bye, you dear things. G.o.d give you everything good. He has already given you almost the best."

"Good-bye, you dear boy," said Rowena. "I have wanted to kiss you many a time, but didn't dare. But now--you are going to the war"--there was a little break in her voice--"where men die. Good-bye, Larry, dear boy, good-bye." She put her arms about him. "And don't keep Jane waiting,"

she whispered in his ear.

"If I were a German, Larry," said Hugo, giving him both hands, "I would kiss you too, old boy, but being plain American, I can only say good luck. G.o.d bless you."

"You will find Elfie in her room," said Rowena. "She refuses to say good-bye where any one can see her. She is not going to weep. Soldiers'

women do not weep, she says. Poor kid!"

Larry found Elfie in her room, with high lights as of fever on her cheeks and eyes glittering.

"I am not going to cry," she said between her teeth. "You need not be afraid, Larry. I am going to be like the Canadian women."

Larry took the child in his arms, every muscle and every nerve in her slight body taut as a fiddle-string. He smoothed her hair gently and began to talk quietly with her.

"What good times we have had!" he said. "I remember well the very first night I saw you. Do you?"

"Oh," she breathed, "don't speak of it, or I can't hold in."

"Elfie," said Larry, "our Canadian women when they are seeing their men off at the station do not cry; they smile and wave their hands. That is, many of them do. But in their own rooms, like this, they cry as much as they like."