hey, and their uniforms were custom
made."

"Why, I suppose so. Aren't all uniforms custom made?"

Her father laughed. "Scarcely, Maddie," he said. "The privates have
their custom-made by the mile and cut off in chunks for the individual.
That was about it, wasn't it, Speranza?"

"Just about, sir."

Mrs. Fosdick evidently thought that the conversation was taking a rather
low tone. She elevated it by asking what his thoughts were when taken
prisoner by the Germans. He looked puzzled.

"Thoughts, Mrs. Fosdick?" he repeated. "I don't know that I understand,
exactly. I was only partly conscious and in a good deal of pain and my
thoughts were rather incoherent, I'm afraid."

"But when you regained consciousness, you know. What were your thoughts
then? Did you realize that you had made the great sacrifice for your
country? Risked your life and forfeited your liberty and all that for
the cause? Wasn't it a great satisfaction to feel that you had done
that?"

Albert's laugh was hearty and unaffected. "Why, no," he said. "I think
what I was realizing most just then was that I had made a miserable mess
of the whole business. Failed in doing what I set out to do and been
taken prisoner besides. I remember thinking, when I was clear-headed
enough to think anything, 'You fool, you spent months getting into this
war, and then got yourself out of it in fifteen minutes.' And it WAS a
silly trick, too."

Madeline was horrified.

"What DO you mean?" she cried. "Your going back there to rescue your
comrade a silly trick! The very thing that won you your Croix de
Guerre?"

"Why, yes, in a way. I didn't save Mike, poor fellow--"

"Mike! Was his name Mike?"

"Yes; Michael Francis Xavier Kelly. A South Boston Mick he was, and one
of the finest, squarest boys that ever drew breath. Well, poor Mike was
dead when I got to him, so my trip had been for nothing, and if he had
been alive I could not have prevented his being taken. As it was, he
was dead and I was a prisoner. So nothing was gained and, for me,
personally, a good deal was lost. It wasn't a brilliant thing to do.
But," he added apologetically, "a chap doesn't have time to think
collectively in such a scrape. And it was my first real scrap and I was
frightened half to death, besides."

"Frightened! Why, I never heard anything so ridiculous! What--"

"One moment, Madeline." It was Mrs. Fosdick who interrupted. "I want
to ask--er--Albert a question. I want to ask him if