who
says the Germans are turning out submarines at the rate of three
a day. They probably didn't spring this on us until they had
enough built to keep the ocean clear."

"I don't pretend to say what we could accomplish, son. But we
must stand somewhere, morally. They have told us all along that
we could be more helpful to the Allies out of the war than in it,
because we could send munitions and supplies. If we agree to
withdraw that aid, where are we? Helping Germany, all the time we
are pretending to mind our own business! If our only alternative
is to be at the bottom of the sea, we had better be there!"

"Mother, do sit down! We can't settle it tonight. I never saw you
so worked up."

"Your father is worked up, too, or he would never have sent that
telegram." Mrs. Wheeler reluctantly took up her workbasket, and
the boys talked with their old, easy friendliness.

When Ernest left, Claude walked as far as the Yoeders' place with
him, and came back across the snow-drifted fields, under the
frosty brilliance of the winter stars. As he looked up at them,
he felt more than ever that they must have something to do with
the fate of nations, and with the incomprehensible things that
were happening in the world. In the ordered universe there must
be some mind that read the riddle of this one unhappy planet,
that knew what was forming in the dark eclipse of this hour. A
question hung in the air; over all this quiet land about him,
over him, over his mother, even. He was afraid for his country,
as he had been that night on the State House steps in Denver,
when this war was undreamed of, hidden in the womb of time.

Claude and his mother had not long to wait. Three days later they
knew that the German ambassador had been dismissed, and the
American ambassador recalled from Berlin. To older men these
events were subjects to think and converse about; but to boys
like Claude they were life and death, predestination.

VII

One stormy morning Claude was driving the big wagon to town to
get a load of lumber. The roads were beginning to thaw out, and
the country was black and dirty looking. Here and there on the
dark mud, grey snow crusts lingered, perforated like honeycomb,
with wet weedstalks sticking up through them. As the wagon
creaked over the high ground just above Frankfort, Claude noticed
a brilliant new flag flying from the schoolhouse cupola. He had
never seen the flag before when it meant anything but the Four