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 scrap, 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.
"Well, fellows, let's count noses," said Frank. "How many of us are
going to enlist and how many of us are going to wait for the draft?"
"Enlist! enlist!" came in a general chorus, reinforced by Reddy's
shrill treble.
"You'll have to wait awhile, Reddy," laughed Frank. "Your heart's all
right, but Uncle Sam isn't ready for the kids yet."
"Mr. Peterson said there were boys in the Union army only fourteen
years old," grumbled Reddy. "And if they could fight I don't see why I
can't."
"I'm going into the navy," announced Dick Ormsby, whose father was a
retired sea captain. "I've got the love of blue water in my veins I
guess, and I'm aching to get a chance to pot a German U-boat."
"Me for the aviators!" cried Will Baxter. "I always wanted to be a
high flyer--now I've got the chance. I know all about running a
motorcycle and that ought to help a lot."
"I'd like to join the cavalry," joined in Hal Chase. "But they don't
seem to have much use for them in this war. Horses can't go over
trenches and barbed wire fences."
"The infantry's good enough for me," declared Frank.
"And for me, too," echoed Bart. "Uncle Sam needs men in every branch,
but after all, it's the hand to hand fighting of the armies that's
going to decide this war."
At this moment, Mr. Moore, the senior member of the firm, came out from
his office. He was a large man with a genial face and bearing, and was
generally liked by his employees to whom he was fair and just.
His eyes twinkled as he saw the alacrity with which the young men
scattered to their desks.
"Don't worry, boys," he said. "I know that your minds aren't much on
business to-day, and I don't wonder. To tell the truth, I'd be sorry
if they were. There come times when there's only one important thing
in the world, and this is one of the times. I've got just a word to
say to you boys," he went on. "I don't know just what each one of you
is planning to do in connection with this war. Each one of you must
decide that matter for himself. From things I've heard, most of you
seem eager to go. I shall be sorry to lose you, for we never were
busier than we are now, but I should be still more sorry to have you
stay here when your country needs you at the front.
"Mr. Thomas and I have been talking this thing over and we want to say
to you that as far as the money part of it is concerned you needn't
hesitate. We're not going to let you lose a cent by following your
patriotic instinct. Some of you have dependents at home who rely in
part or wholly upon what you earn. So we have decided that your
salaries will go on as usual--that is, that we will make up the
difference between what the Government pays you and what you are
getting now. In that way you will be able to serve your country with
nothing on your mind except the best and quickest way to win the war."
A spontaneous cheer rose from the young men, as with a smile and wave
of his hand their employer turned back to his office.
"Gee, but he's a game sport!" exclaimed Reddy, voicing forcibly if
inelegantly the feeling of all.
If there had been any hesitation before, this generous speech removed
it and now the boys were ready for action.
That very evening Frank and Bart, accompanied by Billy Waldon, went to
the headquarters of the Thirty-seventh regiment. Here they put in
their applications for enlistment.
There were few formalities, for the regiment was eager to recruit its
numbers up to full strength.
Neither one of the chums had any trouble in passing the physical
examination, for both were splendid specimens of manhood. Frank was
six feet tall in his stocking feet, straight and lithe as an Indian,
and with fine muscular development.
Bart, who was two inches shorter, was broad shouldered, well set up,
and capable of great endurance. All the prodding of the doctors failed
to reveal the slightest defect, and they passed the test triumphantly.
Then they took the oath of allegiance, promising in words what they had
long since promised in their hearts, and were duly enrolled as members
of the famous regiment.
"Well, now you're one of us, boys," cried Billy, as he grasped the hand
of each warmly. "And, believe me, it's a great old regiment to belong
to. Come along and I'll show you some of the flags we carried in the
Civil War."
They went with him through the armory and saw some of the treasured
relics that the regiment cherished as its most priceless possessions.
There were the old flags, blackened with powder, torn with bullets,
that had gone through the fire of Antietam and Gettysburg and
Chickamauga.
The boys took off their hats as they stood before them.
There were the cannon that had thundered on the banks of the Rapidan
and in the valley of the Shenandoah. A glass case covered a letter of
commendation for a wild charge that had saved the day at Shiloh. There
was the blood-stained hat of the colonel who had fallen while leading
the regiment at Gaines' Mill.
"That was the kind of stuff the regiment was made up of in the old
days," said Billy, proudly.
"It's a glorious record," said Frank, reverently. "And now it's up to
us to show that what the old boys did in Virginia, the young fellows
are going to do again in France!"