y go home from the munition works
for dinner, and we must talk with them then."

Frenchy and Ikey and Seven Knott climbed into the tonneau and the car
whizzed away, leaving the crowd of boys and girls, and a few adults,
staring after them.

"By St. Patrick's piper that played the last snake out of Ireland!"
sighed Frenchy, ecstatically, "we never was of such importance since we
was christened--hey, fellows?"

"Oi, oi!" murmured Ikey, wagging his head, "my papa don't even suggest
I should take out the orders to the customers no more. He does it himself,
or he hires a feller to do it for him.

"Mind, now! Last night he closed the shop an hour early so's to sit down
with my mama and me and Aunt Eitel in the back room, after the kids was
all in bed, and made me tell about all we'd done and seen. I tell you
it's great!"

"And before we began our hitch," Al Torrance chuckled, as he expertly
rounded a corner, "we were scarcely worth speaking to in Seacove. Now
folks want to stop us on the street and tell us how much they think of
us."

"Gee!" exploded Frenchy, "I could eat candy and ice cream all day long
if I'd let the kids spend money on me."

"We're sure some pumpkins," drawled Whistler Morgan, dryly, sitting
around in the front seat so he could talk with those in the rear.
"I say, Hans!"

"Yep?" was Seven Knott's reply.

"Do you really think we can get some of those fellows at Elmvale to go
to the recruiting office and enlist?"

"Yep. You fellows can tell 'em. You can talk better'n I can."

Seven Knott knew his shipboard duties thoroughly, and never was
reprimanded for neglect of them. But since the four chums had known him
well, the petty officer had been no conversationalist, that was sure.

"If this war was going to be won by talk, like some fellows in Congress
seem to think," Al Torrance once said, "Seven Knott wouldn't have a
chance. But it is roughnecks just like him that man the boats and shoot
the guns that are going to show Kaiser Bill where he gets off--believe
me!"

Elmvale was a factory town not more than six miles above Seacove. It was
on the river, at the mouth of which was situated the little port in
which were the homes of Whistler Morgan and his friends.

The biggest dam in the State, the Elmvale Dam, held back the waters of
the river above the village; and below the dam were several big mills
and factories that got their power from the use of the water.

On both sides of the stream, an