ubstitutes.

And, strange as it may seem, they actually were successful. The little
stream proved to be full to overflowing with fish, small to be sure, but
still eatable.

"Gee, I never saw anything like it!" cried Roy as he excitedly pulled out
one fish after another. "They seem to be eager to be caught. And to think
that we actually scoffed at the idea."

"That's what genius always has to bear," put in Allen, resignedly, while
Betty gave him a side-wise glance from under her long lashes.

"Oh, don't we hate ourself," she chided softly, as she handed him more
bait. "You really shouldn't, Allen--"

"What! Hate myself?" he demanded, letting a fish slip back into the water
in his preoccupation. "I'd just as soon--as long as you don't!"

Betty laughed happily. It was so good to be there, unbelievably catching
fish, with Allen beside her saying delightful--and foolish--things.

Then she thought of the parting that must inevitably come and her bright
face clouded. Allen saw the shadow and leaned toward her anxiously.

"What is it, dear?" he whispered softly. "Have I done anything?"

"No," she answered with a little smile, half-whimsical, half-wistful. "You
haven't done anything. It's what you're going to do that hurts."

CHAPTER VIII

ENTER SERGEANT MULLINS

"Mollie, you've been crying."

"I have not!" snapped Mollie, turning so the light would not fall on her
face.

"Well, what are your eyes and nose all red for then?" asked Amy
reasonably.

"Ask them," retorted Mollie. "Probably just did it to make me mad."

Several days had gone by, and the entertainment into which the girls had
thrown themselves with so much enthusiasm had been given and pronounced a
great success by the soldiers stationed at Camp Liberty. Since then the
days had been given largely to the routine work of the Hostess
House--afternoon teas, evening coffee served to those who wished it,
writing letters for the boys, entertaining others, looking after wives and
mothers and sisters who were visiting near the camp, suggesting books for
some who seemed to be of uncertain taste. Now, on this day, something
unusual had plainly happened.

"Oh, girls, I've got a wonderful plan--something new for the soldier
boys!" cried Betty, breaking in upon her two friends merrily. Then, seeing
that she had interrupted something, paused and looked uncertainly from Amy
to Mollie and back again.

"Why, Mollie," she cried anxiously, "what is the matte