CHAPTER XII
HONOR FLAGS
"Yes, yes, this is Betty.--Oh, Allen!--When?--To-morrow morning! Oh,isn't that terribly short notice?--Oh, I can't, I can't believeit!--Roy and Frank, too?--No, I didn't hear about it--Listen,Allen.--No, I'm _not_ crying.--What's that?--Well, I'm trying notto!--Please listen to me.--Bring the boys around here to-night,will you? I'll get the girls and we'll have a p-party.--No, I'm_not_ crying.--G-good-bye!"
With a little jerk Betty hung up the receiver, and sat staring out ofthe window with the tears streaming down her cheeks. She brushed themaway impatiently and felt feverishly for her pocket handkerchief.
"Oh, I h-hate the old Kaiser, and I hate the old war, and I h-hateeverything!" she wailed, rolling the handkerchief up into a miserablelittle ball. "Wh-what will we do when the b-boys are gone and wehaven't anything to do, but just think of the time they'll be sentover to France to get k-killed? Oh, Betty, don't act so f-foolish,"she scolded, putting away the handkerchief with an air of decision."You know you wouldn't have had them do anything else anyway----
"Oh, there's that old telephone again.
"Yes, hello, Mollie.--Isn't it terrible?--Oh, do come around--andstay for supper.--I--can't bear to be left alone.--Good-bye."
"Well, what are we going to do?"
The four girls had gathered once more on Betty's porch and wereregarding each other mournfully.
"Do?" echoed Grace. "Why, we can't do anything, of course, but letthem go."
"But it won't seem at all like Deepdale!" mourned Amy.
"Well, the only thing I can see that we can do," sighed Mollie, "isto become Red Cross nurses and go across with them."
"That probably wouldn't do any good, either," objected Betty, "as faras being with the boys is concerned, because we'd probably be sent toanother part of the field entirely, and probably wouldn't see themfrom the beginning of the war to the end of it. No, I guess we'lljust have to keep on knitting for them."
"They're going to write to us, anyway," said Mollie. "And we mustwrite to them a good deal, too. They say the boys are just crazy forletters when they're away from home."
"Yes, and sometimes girls and women correspond with boys they neversaw and never expect to see," added Amy, "just because they haven'tany relatives, and it makes it less lonesome for them."
"I imagine we'll have all we want to do just to keep up ourcorrespondence with the boys we know," said Betty, knitting steadily."I think it's wonderful the way practically all of Deepdale hasvolunteered. It makes you proud to live here."
"Yes, and they all seem to be leaving about the same time, too," saidMollie. "Service flags are springing up all over town."
"It's terrible," said Amy, with another sigh. "I can't walk along thestreet and see those flags in the houses of people we've grown upwith, without having a funny lump rise in my throat, and I have tohurry past to keep myself from acting foolishly."
"I guess none of us really knew we were at war until all the boys weknow began to be called away," said Grace seriously. "And I know yougirls must all think it's strange--" she paused for a moment as ifuncertain just how to proceed, and the girls looked at her insurprise.
"I--I'm so worried about Will," Grace continued, not raising her eyesfrom her knitting. "He hasn't been himself for a month--you girlsmust have noticed that--and he won't give me any satisfaction at allwhen I ask him what's the matter. We--he and I--used to be such goodfriends----" her voice broke and the girls' hearts ached for her,"and now he acts just like a stranger--only asks to be left alone.And he's so moody and queer and silent----" Her voice trailed off andfor a long time no one spoke.
The girls were troubled, and they longed to give her sympathy. It washard to know just what to say, for Will had puzzled them all sorely.
"I wouldn't worry too much, Gracie, dear," said Betty, at last, goingover and sitting down beside her friend. "Will has some problem thathe's trying to work out all by himself. We know that he's true blueall the way through, and when he's ready to confide in us, he'll doit. Until then, we've just got to trust him, that's all, and help himall we can by our good faith."
Grace's head had dropped on Betty's shoulder and she was cryingsoftly.
"B-Betty, you're such a comfort," she murmured as Betty gentlystroked her hair. "That was j-just what I w-wanted you to say. I'vebeen so m-miserable."
That was more than the girls could stand, for they remembered howgallantly Grace had striven to hide her trouble during all theseweeks, and they gathered around her, whispering little words ofendearment and comfort, till she started to laugh and cry together,calling herself an "old goose" and clinging to them desperately.
It was some time before they grew calm and could speak coherently.Then Amy sighed and said:
"Oh, dear, it's a quarter past six and I promised to be home by sixsharp. Now what shall I do?"
"Telephone your brother that you're staying here," said the LittleCaptain decidedly. "The boys are coming to-night, you know, and youcan all help me with the spread. No, you needn't waste timearguing--you're going to stay."
And when Betty spoke in that tone, no one dared dispute with her.
It was half past eight before the boys came, and the girls weregetting so nervous and impatient they could hardly sit still.
"Do you suppose they could have forgotten?" Amy was beginning, whenthe sound of masculine voices in excited conversation floated to themon the breeze, and she stopped short to listen.
"They're coming," cried Mollie. "There's no mistaking Frank's raucoustones, or Roy's either, for that matter. What do you suppose they'reso excited about?"
A few moments later the boys themselves ran up the steps, greeted thegirls cheerily, and ranged themselves in various attitudes upon therailing of the porch.
"Say, did you hear the latest news?" asked Roy eagerly, before thegreetings were half over. "Another American ship has been sunk bythose beastly Huns, and quite a number of passengers are reportedmissing. Gee, I wish instead of going to a training camp we weregoing right across. It seems a crime to be wasting time on this sidewhen we might be getting at them."
"Another ship!" cried Betty, while the boys eagerly poured forth thedetails. "Oh, if I were only a man," she added, clenching her handsas the recital finished, "I'd fight until there wasn't one Germanleft on the face of the earth."
"You just leave that to us," said Frank, his eyes gleaming. "We maynot be able to exterminate the whole German nation, but we'll dragthe old Kaiser to his knees and make him kiss the Stars and Stripesbefore we get through. Gee, but I'm aching to get right into thethick of it all!"
"What's this?" asked Betty, as Allen handed her several sheets ofpaper, rolled together and fastened with a rubber band.
"Music," explained Allen, who had not taken his eyes from her facesince he had come upon the porch. "A reporter I know handed them tome. They're all the popular war songs, and I thought perhaps we mightrun them over tonight."
They went into the living-room, where Betty's treasured grand pianowas. Betty played and the others sang until they came to "Keep theHome Fires Burning," when Allen interfered.
"If nobody minds," he said seriously, "I'd like to hear Betty singthat--alone."
And Betty, who knew the song and had always liked it, started tosing. But she did not get far. Something swelled and swelled in herthroat and every time she came to the lines:
"Though our lads are far away They think of home--"
tears blinded her eyes, her voice quivered, and she had to stop.
Three times she tried it, then with a little sob, dropped her head onher arm and sat still. The girls ran to her, while the boys turnedaway to hide their own emotion.
"Never mind, Betty dear," whispered Mollie, wiping a tear from theend of her nose and patting Betty's hand tenderly. "We--we all feelthe same way about it."
Betty raised her head and smiled a little April smile upon them.
"I'll always keep the home fires b-burning," she said unsteadily,"but I c-can'
t sing about it."