ORDERED OVER THERE
The Leffingwell cook had prepared a regular crackerjack--no, a
Leffingwell dinner; and Mr. Leffingwell begged the boys to say
little about their adventures until they had had something to
eat. As they all sat down at the table, Porky and Beany looked
back over the couple of centuries or so that had passed since
breakfast, and decided that since they had not had time for
anything at all since that remote period, it would be a good
thing to sample a few of the good things urged upon them by
Barton, the butler.
Presently, that is along about the third helping of everything
there was, the boys commented to tell about their day's
adventures. They had an attentive audience; an audience that
forgot to eat or say "Dear me suz!" or smoke. And it seemed as
though they wanted to hear everything over at least three times.
And the boys were willing to tell.
Before the meal was finished, the doctor came quietly in. He had
been to look at Asa and, finding him asleep under the effects of
the quieting tablet he had given him, he came to report to Mr.
Leffingwell that his young guest was doing well.
"It won't lame him permanently, will it?" asked Colonel Bright.
"No, no danger of that unless there should be some infection, and
I am sure there will be nothing of the sort. I wonder, Mr.
Leffingwell, if it is possible to keep the boy here for a few
days or a week? I hate to have him moved. Your man Timmins says
he was talking about going to his home to-morrow.
"Well, I should say not!" exploded Mr. Leffingwell. "Where is
Timmins anyhow!"
"Sitting beside Asa," said the doctor. "Shall I call him?"
He tiptoed back to the boy's room, and in a moment returned,
followed by Timmins, who stood just inside the doorway and looked
inquiringly at Mr. Leffingwell.
"What's this, Timmins, about Asa's going home to-morrow? You get
those fool notions out of Asa's head, and, Timmins, we will
appoint you head nurse for a while. The lad seems to like you."
Timmins smiled and bowed. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" he said.
And at that moment the ice-cream came in. That Leffingwell cook!
The ice-cream was in the shape of little tents, with a silk flag
sticking gayly out of the ridge pole of each.
The boys noted with satisfaction that the tents were good-sized.
They gave their whole attention to the work in hand, and the
others seemed secretly to agree to put aside the day's
excitements for a space.
After dinner they followed Mr. Leffingwell to his den, where Mrs.
Potter took out her knitting. She had a very large knitting bag,
and it seemed full of balls of wool.
Colonel Bright noticed it. "Looks as though you were going into
the knitting game wholesale."
Mrs. Potter smiled. "Not quite," she said. "I am making two
complete sets for a couple of young men who are going into the
service."
Porky felt of the soft, light yarn. "I say--that's pretty good of
you, mom. Who are your lucky friends?"
"That reminds me of something," said the Colonel. "I know a
couple of lads, about like Porky and Beany here, who have been
crazy to go across. I have been watching them for some time, and
have about made up my mind that they would be a real help to me
over there, and not a hindrance. So I have been pulling wires,
and making plans, and I think it looks as though I can take them
with me. It's just about the job you boys were joking about
wanting."
"No joke at all!" said Porky bitterly. "Oh, gee; now some one
else has it!"
"Why, you don't mean that you really meant it?" said the Colonel.
"I wish you had made it clear!"
"We couldn't have tried harder to make it clear unless we had hit
you, Colonel," said Beany sadly.
"Well, that's too bad," said the Colonel. "These fellows are
just about your age. Perhaps they seem older to me because they
have had a lot of responsibility that has made them older. It's
too bad."
"Never mind, Colonel," said Porky. "If the other fellows have
fallen in luck, why, it's great for them. What, are you planning
for them?"
"It's like this," said Colonel Bright, squinting up his eye as he
puffed busily on his cigar.
"There's a lot of most important running around to do behind the
lines in what is really a zone of safety: messages, and plans,
and all that sort of thing, you understand, that have to be taken
from one officer to another, and it seemed to me that it was
better to have some one who knew that that was his whole job, and
could give every minute to it, rather than depend on petty
officers who were continually being ordered away. I thought it
would save a lot of time and anxiety if I could have aides that
were trained to just the service I required. So I reported the
case to some of the big fellows in Washington, and they told me
to go ahead. You see I've been in this army of ours so long that
I suppose I have a sort of pull. Well, at any rate, that's how
it is."
"And the fellows are going over with you?" asked Porky.
"It has the sort of look as though I was going with them, as it
stands now. Of course orders are secret; but I would not be
surprised if my men packed off in about a week. I have work in
Washington, however, that may keep me there for another week at
least, so I am to go over on a regular passenger boat, and the
chaps I have spoken of will go with me."
"Gosh! What luck!" said Beany, looking at his brother. "Are
they brothers?"
"They are related some way," said the Colonel, smoking at his
cigar.
"Gosh! what luck!" said Porky, looking at Beany. "Always
something to take the joy out of life!"
"You ought to be glad for 'em," said Mrs. Potter. "I declare,
boys, I didn't know as there was a jealous hair in both your
heads! How you do talk!"
"That's all right, mom," said Porky. "We are not jealous; only
it was just exactly what we wanted to do, and it's a sort of
jolt. Is that who the sweaters are for, mom?"
"Yes, I thought I might as well," said Mrs. Potter. She glanced
at the Colonel. He was looking at his cigar. Mr. Leffingwell
was staring at the ceiling. She glanced at Mr. Potter. His
right eyelid quivered. "Yes," said Mrs. Potter, "Colonel Bright
thought they might like to have them." She smiled at Porky and
Beany--strange, soft, tender, sad, wonderful smile.
"Come, see if they are going to fit," she said.
Mr. Leffingwell blew his nose.
All the while that the preparations for the boys' journey went
swiftly on, time, pain-filled and gloomy, dragged itself away in
the two hospital rooms where the Wolf and the Weasel lay wounded.
By carefully questioning his nurse, the Wolf, who was not so
badly hurt as it was at first thought, found out that the Weasel
was his next door neighbor. That question settled, the Wolf
settled himself to the task of getting well. In a few days to
the amazement of those attending him, he was able to sit up.
They commenced leaving him alone for an hour or so at a time.
Two days more, wrapped in a heavy bathrobe, he was lifted into a
reclining chair, and allowed to look out of the window. How
could the nurse guess that the moment she left, her helpless
patient rose to his feet and falteringly at first, moved here and
there about the room, stopping every moment or two to rest? When
she returned she found him quietly seated, resting, as she had
left him. He did indeed look tired and pale, so she hurried him
back to bed. The next day and the next this was repeated. Then
came his chance. His nurse was going to a lecture in the
assembly room on the first floor. She would be gone a couple of
hours.
She placed the Wolf in his chair by the window, looked at his
bandages, set a bell beside him, and left a pile of magazines on
the wide window sill at his elbow. Then, with repeated warnings
to rest and not overdo, she left him.
As soon as he heard the last light pad-pad of the girl's
rubber-heeled shoes, the Wolf stood up. He stood firmly. He
tied the bathrobe about him and went to the door. There he
waited, listening. All was quiet. He opened the door a little.
As he did so, a nurse and a doctor came out of the Weasel's room,
went slowly down the ball, and turned into a room at the corner.
The Wolf listened more intently still, and went out into the
hall. Between the room occupied by the Wolf and the one where
the Weasel lay, there was a space. A table and a chair stood
there. It was where the night nurse sat. On it was a writing
tablet, pens, ink, and a couple of little bottles. One of them
caught the eye of the Wolf. The blue color of the glass told him
that it was a deadly poison even before lie read the label. He
put it in his pocket.
Then he gently turned the handle of the door, and went in. For a
moment he thought the room was empty. The shade at the window
was drawn closed. The Wolf swept the room with a swift glance
then his eyes rested on the bed.
Ah! Did you start then, ever so slightly, you cruel killer, you
merciless destroyer? What good now is the blue vial in your
pocket? Of what use the clenched fist, and writhing, clutching
fingers? You have come too late, Wolf; you have lost your poor
too! Look and look and look again at that peaceful bed. See how
straight the sheet is and how decently it is drawn up. Go over,
Wolf, and draw it down and see what it covers! Hurry, Wolf,
because you have but little time to remain undisturbed! Already
the nurse and doctor have finished making their report; already a
narrow, white stretcher is being prepared.
For the last time in all your wicked life, black murder filled
your heart, Wolf, but the Weasel has escaped you. The Wolf put
the sheet back over the dead face of the Weasel and grating his
teeth, stepped softly to the door. He slipped into the hall, but
as he did so, he heard low voices, and instead of turning toward
his own room, he went in the opposite direction where he saw a
stairway. Unfortunately for him, the stairs led up instead of
down. Slowly, silently, he climbed them; but not before he
thought he heard a low exclamation from below. For some
unforeseen reason the nurse and doctor had looked in the Wolf's
room to see how he was getting on. The room of course was empty,
and the Wolf knew a search would begin at once. How he cursed
his fate that he was dressed only in his underwear and bathrobe!
It would take a clever man indeed to escape in such garments.
And escape he must. The Weasel was dead. He had killed him, and
no one knew better than the Wolf that he would be made to pay the
whole penalty. Adolph was dead, the Weasel was dead, Ledermann
had jumped into the river to escape his pursuers and had drowned.
And here was he, the Wolf, trapped-at bay. He slipped into the
first door at hand. It was a large hall used for a gymnasium for
the nurses. There were steps at the door. He looked about.
There was not a place to hide. Hurrying to the window as fast as
his feeble strength would permit, he raised the sash and looked
out. There, outside the window, was a fire-escape. Without an
instant's hesitation, he stepped out and placed his slippered
foot on the narrow tread of the iron ladder. His head was
swimming from weakness. He heard an exclamation from above and
looked up.
For an instant he made out the faces of the nurse and doctor
against the sky above him. Then the nurse disappeared, and the
doctor stepped out on the sill. He was going to follow; the nurse
had gone for help. There was one thing to do: hurry--hurry!
Once more the Wolf looked up at his pursuer. He laughed his own
sneering, cruel laugh. The ladder seemed to swing and sway
dizzily. It was like being at the top of a tall mast in a heavy
sea. He clutched the ladder. Then everything grew dark, guns
boomed in his ears, his grasp loosened and the last long night
and the last long silence wrapped him like a cloak.
The Weasel had bitten to the bone.
Crushed and mangled, they lifted the Wolf from the pavement five
stories below, and taking him into the hospital once more for a
little while, laid him in the chamber of death beside the
stretcher where the Weasel rested with that new look in his face.
But the nurse who had cared for the Weasel knew the manner of his
going, and rolled his stretcher away across the room. She would
not let him lie even in death beside the other.
The very next afternoon the telephone rang.
Mrs. Potter and Beany and Asa listened, while Porky said, "Yes,
sir," a dozen times and "All right, sir," until Beany twitched
with nervous excitement.
When he put up the receiver, everybody said, "Well?" at the same
time.
Porky went over and kissed his mother. It was real easy to do,
those days. A fellow wanted to kiss his mother.
"Well?" said everybody again.
Timmins hovered in the doorway.
"To-morrow," said Porky with a sort of solemnity.
No one spoke. Then "What time?" said Beany.
"Six o'clock, morning," answered Porky.
"You know, mom, there's no chance of our getting hurt," said
Beany.
"How you do talk!" said Mrs. Potter. She did not look up,
however. She was finishing the second sweater, and gave it her
whole attention.
"Naw!" said Porky. "Not a chance in the world! We will be home
before you know it, with a lot of good stories to tell you.
Perhaps we will bring you some loot. Wouldn't you like something
to remember the War by?"
"Just you look out for yourselves," said Mrs. Potter. "I'd like
a couple of boys sent home safe and sound. That's what I'd like
to remember things by." She stabbed the needles through her
knitting and, rising, left the room. The boys looked after her.
Beany made a move to follow, but his brother pushed him back.
"Let her alone," he said. "She likes to be brave."
That evening passed like lightning, although all the traps had
been ready for days. Gladdis, the cook, had baked them a
wonderful fruit cake, and Mr. Leffingwell came home with four new
comfort kits and a portable typewriter for each one--a little
typewriter that would go in one end of a suit-case.
Everybody seemed more than happy, quite noisy, in fact. There
was not a moment when anybody felt the least bit--the least bit--
well, you know! That is, not a moment except just at bedtime.
Then Mrs. Potter came into the boys' room, and gave them each a
little, thin package. She just handed it to them and kissed them
goodnight, and went out.
"Let's see what they are," said Porky. There were two little
leather cases. Inside were Mom Potter's pretty, motherly dear
face, and pop's splendid, homely countenance. Porky jerked out
the light.
The following morning, Mr. Leffingwell's car, crowded with the
whole family, was the first to arrive at the station. The Potter
boys wandered restlessly about until Colonel Bright, followed by
his wife and daughter and a Japanese house-man loaded with rugs
and bags, came breezing in with a hearty greeting for everybody.
Mr. Leffingwell bustled about, tipping everybody he could find
to tip. Timmins and the elevator boy took Asa out on the
platform and sat him on a truck where he could see everybody the
very last minute. And all at once it was the very last minute;
and somehow everybody had shaken hands and had talked loudly,
and the boys had kissed their mother--a kiss to be remembered,
and had swung on board. The train started. The boys strained
for one last look at their parents. They thought they smiled.
Asa turned to Timmins.
"Gee, the light hurts a feller's eyes," he said.