"You mean your megaphone," Lennox put in. "You are always rehearsing
copy. One of these days I may give you some."
"From the front?" Jones asked.
"Yes, though I don't see how you knew. The President has asked for war.
Why aren't we up and at 'em? If Congress hems and haws over it much
longer, I'll get my gun and join the Foreign Legion."
Jones nodded. He had guessed that also and he said: "Wait and join the
legions here. At present, the country is alarmingly apathetic. The man
in the subway is muddled. The call to arms does not stir him. The
issues, clear enough to us, seem to him mixed as macaroni. He does not
understand a war that is three thousand miles away. But in a year, every
man in the country--a country that has never been beaten!--will be in it
body and soul. Undividedly, shoulder to shoulder, we will be in it as we
have never been in anything before."
The novelist touched a bell. "Lennox, have a Bronx. Verelst, what will
you take? I'll wager a pippin that war is declared to-morrow."
"Done," said Verelst--who lost it.