"I hadn't heard."

"He's a big man, Graham. We're going to hear from him. Only--I thought

he looked tired when I saw him last. Somebody ought to look after him a

bit." He was patiently untangling himself from Elinor's rope. "You

know there are two kinds of people in the world: those who look after

themselves and those who look after others. That's your father--the

last."

Graham's face clouded. How true that was! He knew now, as he had not

known before. He was thinking clearly those days. Hard work and nothing

to drink had clarified his mind, and he saw things at home as they

really were. Clayton's infinite patience, his strength and his

gentleness. But he only said: "He has had a hard year." He raised his eyes and looked at the chaplain.

"I didn't help him any, you know, sir."

"Well, well, that's all over now. We've just one thing to think of,

and that's to beat those German devils back to Berlin. And then burn

Berlin," he added, militantly.

The last Graham saw of him, he was dragging Elinor down the road, and a

faint throaty humming came back, which sounded suspiciously like "Where

do we go from here, boys? Where do we go from here?"

Candidate Spencer took great pains with his toilet that afternoon. He

polished his shoes, and shaved, and he spent a half hour on some ten

sadly neglected finger-nails. At retreat he stood at attention in the

long line, and watched the flag moving slowly and majestically to

the stirring bugle notes. Something swelled almost to bursting in his

throat. That was his flag. He was going to fight for it. And after that

was done he was going to find some girl, some nice girl--the sort, for

instance, that would leave her home to work in a hostess house. And

having found her, he would marry her, and love and cherish her all his

life. Unless, of course, she wouldn't have him. He was inclined to think

she wouldn't.

He ate very little supper that night, little being a comparative term,

of course. And then he went to discover Delight. It appeared, however,

that she had been already discovered. She was entirely surrounded by

uniforms, and Graham furiously counted a colonel, two majors, and a

captain.

"Pulling rank, of course!" he muttered, and retired to a corner, where

he had at least the mild gratification of seeing that even the colonel

could not keep Delight from her work.

"Silly asses!" said Graham, again, and then she saw him. There was no

question about her being pleased. She was quite flushed with it, but a

little uncomfortable, too, at Graham's attitude. He was oddly humble,

and yet he had a look of determination that was almost grim. She filled

in a rather disquieting silence by trying to let him know, without

revealing that she had ever been anything else, how proud she was

of him. Then she realized that he was not listening, and that he was

looking at her with an almost painful intensity.




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