CHAPTER I
TO THE FRONT
"I know it's utterly foolish and unreasonable," sighed Amy Blackford,laying down the novel she had been reading and looking wistfully out ofthe window, "but I simply can't help it."
"What's the matter?" asked Mollie Billette, raising her eyes reluctantlyfrom a book she was devouring and looking vaguely at Amy's profile. "Didyou say something?"
"No, she only spoke," drawled Grace Ford, extricating herself from amass of bright-colored cushions on the divan, preparatory to joining inthe conversation. "I ask you, Mollie, did you ever know Amy to sayanything important?"
"Why yes, I have," said Mollie unexpectedly. "In fact, she is about theonly one of us Outdoor Girls who ever does say anythingimportant--except Betty, perhaps."
Amy withdrew her gaze from the landscape and looked at the speaker witha twinkle in her eyes.
"What will you have, Mollie?" she asked whimsically. "When you becomecomplimentary, you are apt to rouse my suspicions."
"Well, whatever you were going to say, please say it, and let me getback to my book," returned Mollie, ignoring the imputation. "I was inthe most interesting part--"
"Why, I'm just plain homesick," said Amy, adding quickly, as the girlslooked at her in surprise. "For Camp Liberty and the Hostess House, youknow. I miss the work and the long hours of entertaining and cheeringpeople up. I feel," she looked around at them as though finding it hardto explain just what she meant, "sort of--lost."
The three chums, Mollie Billette, Grace Ford, and Amy Blackford weregathered in the comfortable library of Betty Nelson's home--Betty beingthe fourth of the merry quartette, dubbed the "Outdoor Girls" by thepeople of Deepdale, because of their love of the open and of outdoorsports.
The girls, as my old readers will doubtless remember, had helpedestablish a Hostess House at Camp Liberty, and since then had given alltheir strength and time and youthful enthusiasm to the great work ofcheering our young fighters, entertaining their loved ones, and, in theend, sending them with fresh courage and happy memories to the "otherside" for the great adventure.
And now the girls, completely worn out in their loving service toothers, had been sent, much against their will, home to Deepdale for arest that they sorely needed.
To-day they had gathered in Betty's house to discuss the rather hazyplans for their brief vacation. And Amy had simply voiced what was inthe thoughts of all the girls. They were, undeniably and heartily,homesick for Camp Liberty and their work at the Hostess House.
"Lost?" Mollie repeated Amy's expression thoughtfully. "Yes, I guessthat would pretty well describe the feeling I've had for the last fewdays. Sort of restless and aimless--wondering what to do next."
"Goodness!" cried Grace whimsically, stretching her arms above her headand smothering a yawn, "this is terrible, you know. If we don't lookout, we'll be forgetting how to enjoy ourselves."
"That would be queer, wouldn't it?" agreed Mollie, with a chuckle as shestarted to resume her reading. "Especially for the Outdoor Girls, whoused to know how to enjoy themselves remarkably well."
A brief silence followed, broken only by the rustle of paper as one ofthe girls turned a page. Then, so suddenly that Mollie jumped nervouslyand Grace almost upset a box of chocolates at her elbow, Amy threw downher book and sprang to her feet.
"I can't stand it another minute!" she exclaimed desperately. "Girls, Imust get out and do something--this loafing is getting on my nerves."
"Goodness, the child's mad," declared Mollie, looking at her chum with amixture of amusement and sympathy in her eyes. "What do you want to do,Amy, start a fight, or set the town on fire? Whatever it is, I'm foryou, as Roy would say."
"Oh, I guess I must be crazy," said Amy, subsiding and seeming a littleashamed of her outburst. "Only, after so much band music and parades andbugle calls--everything in Deepdale seems so quiet."
"Well, if all you want is noise, we'll easily fix that," said Molliebriskly, running to the piano and gathering in Grace and Amy on the way."Sing," she commanded, "and I'll make as much noise as I can on thepiano."
Half laughing, half protesting, the girls obeyed while Mollieconscientiously made good her threat with the piano, and it was intothis uproar that Betty Nelson stepped a moment later.
"Have mercy!" she screamed above the noise, both hands clapped over herears while she laughed at them. "I thought they had turned the houseinto a lunatic asylum or something."
The music, if such it can be called, stopped so suddenly that Betty'slast words rang out with absurd distinctness.
"Or something," Mollie mimicked, whirling around and catching thenewcomer in a bear's embrace. "Come over to the couch, Betty Nelson, andexplain yourself. Where have you been and why did you keep us waiting?"
Laughingly the Little Captain, as she was often called by the girlsbecause of her talent for leadership, permitted herself to be draggedover to the couch by the impulsive Mollie, while Amy and Grace seatedthemselves on the arms.
"What would you?" protested Betty, looking from one accusing face toanother. "I said I would meet you here at two-thirty, and it is onlyquarter past now."
"Only quarter past!" exclaimed Amy.
"Oh, is that all?" asked Mollie, in astonishment, adding, as Bettylifted her wrist watch for inspection: "Goodness, I thought we had beenwaiting ages."
"I'm glad you wanted to see me so much," chuckled the Little Captain,adding, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes: "I imagine you wouldhave been still more impatient if you had known--" she paused wickedlyand just looked at them.
"Don't tease, Betty! What is it?" they implored in chorus, fairlypouncing upon her, while Grace added, eagerly:
"Is it possible you have anything really interesting to tell us?"
"I shouldn't wonder if you would think so," Betty teased, adding quicklyto forestall the outburst she saw was coming, "It really isn't anythingat all--only--I met the postman on my way--"
"Betty!" they cried, unable to contain their impatience another moment."You have letters! Letters from our soldier boys!"
"How did you guess it?" said Betty, her eyes dancing as she brought froma convenient pocket three--yes, three--fat letters, each containing thelonged-for foreign postmark.
"How much will you give me?" teased Betty, holding the precious missivesbehind her back.
"Not one other word, Betty Nelson!" they cried, and after a merry butbrief struggle the letters were seized and delivered to their rightfulowners.
"Now I wonder," drawled Grace with a twinkle, as she hastily tore openher envelope, "who could possibly be writing to us from the other side?"
"Now I wonder," chuckled Betty, as she happily drew from the convenientpocket the last, but in her estimation decidedly not the least, fatletter and proceeded to devour its contents without delay.
And indeed the Outdoor Girls had little reason to wonder who theircorrespondents might be, for as regularly as clockwork those preciousletters with the strange foreign postmarks were delivered to their eagerhands.
There were other letters with that foreign postmark, too, for inaddition to their work at the Hostess House, the girls had faithfullykept up a large correspondence with the brave boys who had alreadycrossed the water and were waiting impatiently for their chance "at theHuns."
But the four special letters were from their closest friends--boys whohad lived in Deepdale before the war and were now in France preparingfor the last stage of their journey.
Allen Washburn, on his way to make a great name for himself in the lawbefore the war put a temporary check upon his ambitions, had been inlove with the Little Captain for--oh, yes, ever since he could remember,while Betty--but Betty would never really admit anything, not even toherself.
Then there was Will Ford, Grace Ford's brother, who was not only devotedto his pretty sister, but, in spite of Amy's flushed protestations tothe contrary, to Amy Blackford, also--although in quite a differentmanner!
Frank Haley was a high school chum of Will's, who from the
time of hisfirst meeting with Mollie Billette had seemed inclined to become hershadow, to the latter's secret gratification and outward indifference.
The last of the quartette was Roy Anderson, one of the Deepdale boys,who was chiefly distinguished by his very open admiration for Grace.
The boys had shared in many of the adventures of the Outdoor Girls, andof course had been among the very first to volunteer to help "lick theBoche" as they slangily but ardently put it. The girls had gloried intheir patriotism, and it was their assignment to Camp Liberty that hadfirst given Betty the idea of working in the Hostess House there.
They had been very happy, fired as they were by enthusiastic patriotism,until the fateful day had come when the boys had entrained forPhiladelphia and from there to the Great Adventure. Then for the firsttime the girls had had the real and terrible meaning of war brought hometo them. And the boys, so merry and care-free when they had firstentered the service, had seemed suddenly older, more important, moremanly, only the fire of enthusiasm in their eyes showing theirindomitable youth.
Several months had passed since that day of mingled tears and pride andheartache, and the girls had had time to get used to the separation alittle--a very little. And now Betty had brought them the letters theywere always hungry for, anxiously eager, yet always, at the very back oftheir hearts, a little haunting fear of what they might contain.
For several minutes they sat engrossed while occasionally one of themread a funny or characteristic extract over which they laughed happily.
"Listen to this," chuckled Mollie, while the girls looked upexpectantly. "Frank says that Roy is getting terribly fat in spite ofall the exercise--"
"Horrors!" interjected Grace.
"And when he, Frank, ventured to remonstrate with him the other day andadvised him to cut down on his chow, Roy said: 'Nothing doing! I've gota definite end in view, old man. This khaki outfit has acquired so muchterra firma it's beginning to stand alone, but if I get so fat I can'twear it they'll have to give me another one--see?'"
The girls laughed, but there was just a shade of wistfulness in theirlaughter, for they knew that the boys were only skirting the outer edgeof the hardships they would be called upon to encounter later on.
Then suddenly Betty gave a little cry of dismay.
"Oh, girls," she cried when they looked up at her fearfully, "it's come!What we've been dreading so long! The boys have been ordered to thefront!"