f Dawn. A copy specially bound,
lay upon her library table. Albert's photograph in uniform, obtained
from the Snows by Mr. Fosdick, who wrote for it at his wife's request,
stood beside it. To callers and sister war workers Mrs. Fosdick gave
details of the hero's genius, his bravery, his devotion to her daughter.
It was all so romantic and pleasantly self-advertising--and perfectly
safe.

Summer came again, the summer of 1918. The newspapers now were gravely
personal reading to millions of Americans. Our new army was trying
its metal on the French front and with the British against the vaunted
Hindenburg Line. The transports were carrying thousands on every trip to
join those already "over there." In South Harniss and in Greenwich and
New York, as in every town and city, the ordinary summer vacations and
playtime occupations were forgotten or neglected and war charities and
war labors took their place. Other soldiers than Sergeant Speranza were
the newspaper heroes now, other books than The Lances of Dawn talked
about.

As on the previous summer the new Fosdick cottage was not occupied by
its owners. Mrs. Fosdick was absorbed by her multitudinous war duties
and her husband was at Washington giving his counsel and labor to
the cause. Captain Zelotes bought to his last spare dollar of each
successive issue of Liberty Bonds, and gave that dollar to the Red Cross
or the Y. M. C. A.; Laban and Rachel did likewise. Even Issachar Price
bought Thrift Stamps and exhibited them to anyone who would stop long
enough to look.

"By crimus," declared Issy, "I'm makin' myself poor helpin' out the
gov'ment, but let 'er go and darn the Kaiser, that's my motto. But they
ain't all like me. I was down to the drug store yesterday and old
man Burgess had the cheek to tell me I owed him for some cigars I
bought--er--last fall, seems to me 'twas. I turned right around and
looked at him--'I've got my opinion,' says I, 'of a man that thinks of
cigars and such luxuries when the country needs every cent. What have
you got that gov'ment poster stuck up on your wall for?' says I. 'Read
it,' I says. 'It says' '"Save! Save! Save!"' don't it? All right. That's
what I'M doin'. I AM savin'.' Then when he was thinkin' of somethin' to
answer back I walked right out and left him. Yes sir, by crimustee, I
left him right where he stood!"

August came; September--the Hindenburg Line was broken. Each day the
triumphant headlines in the papers were big and bl