"Oh, I could do lots better than that," returned Grace tranquilly, "if I
weren't in polite society."

"You flatter us," murmured Mollie.

"I know it," Grace retorted, still calmly. "Anyway, I was remarking that I
didn't see why any swell-headed old German was allowed to take the world
by the ears and turn it upside down--"

"Gee, who's allowing him?" cried a masculine voice from the door, and the
girls turned with a chorus of greetings to welcome Roy.

"We were just saying we thought you were dead," remarked Mollie somberly,
never lifting her eyes from the sweater as he seated himself beside her.

"Sorry to disappoint you," he replied cheerfully. "As Frank remarked
unflatteringly this morning, 'You are far from being a dead one--go and
reform.'"

"Was he speaking of me?" demanded Mollie Billette in deadly quiet, but Roy
raised a placating hand.

"No, no, of course not," he said hurriedly. "He was speaking of me, poor
worm that I am. But, I say," he added, looking around at the busily flying
needles, "what's the idea of the knitting. We've got more sweaters and
things than we know what to do with now."

Mollie lifted her eyes long enough to give him a withering glance.

"Do you think you're the only ones we care about?"

"I hope so," he responded promptly and daringly.

"Do you think maybe we'd better leave, Betty?" inquired Grace with
delicately lifted eyebrows, while Mollie flushed scarlet.

"If you do, I'll never speak to you again," cried the latter, in alarm,
adding, to change the subject: "Where are the other boys, Roy? You usually
travel in fours."

"Well, as long as you didn't say on all fours, it's all right," responded
Roy in a weak attempt at a joke that focused three pairs of girlish eyes
scornfully upon him.

"Roy!" they chorused.

"All right, don't shoot," he pleaded. "What was that you asked me,
Mollie?"

"I asked you," returned Mollie, with deliberation, "where the other boys
were."

"I don't know, and what's more I don't care," replied Roy independently,
leaning back and crossing his long legs with a sigh of content. "We've all
been trying to get leave to come over and see you girls, and so far I'm
the only one who's succeeded. The old boy, that is, the colonel," he
corrected himself, gravely saluting the imaginary officer, "is drawing the
reins pretty tight these days. Looks," he added, striving to keep the
excitement out of his voice, "pretty much like business."

"Like busine