with happiness. David had somehow got the idea of service,
and unknown to us had been planning his life by it. First to help in this
emergency in France, then to find some way in which a rich man could give
his time to his country, in some branch of public service. It was fixed
in his mind that next summer he must be at Plattsburg again, working for
a commission in the reserve. Beyond that he would need his father's
advice and help.

"So there's something more in life for me now," said the father, "than
the mere making of money."

It was in the midst of all the hurry and confusion of our getting ready
to go that I heard a great shouting at the head of the street, and going
to see, found the captain there, and Vera watching from a little
distance. He had come to take personal leave of those he knew best, shook
hands with every one, called scores of us by name, thanked us all for our
help in his work, showed in his face his great new happiness. When those
who pressed upon him first had gone away, driven by the necessity that
was on all of them, he called me to him and made me promise not to leave
with the rest, but at least to stay overnight--for we were to be brothers
now, he said, and must know each other better before we separated. While
a new group came and talked with him I went to Vera.

"Frances is waiting in the car outside," she said, scarcely glancing at
me, but with eager eyes watching the captain and the men who still
pressed upon him.

"Is he popular now?" I asked. "Do the men love him? Don't you approve of
him a little bit yourself?"

This roused her into giving me all her attention for a moment. "Oh,
Dick," she cried, remembering, "if it hadn't been for what you said to
him, perhaps--!" She couldn't quite express the tragedy that would have
followed.

"Perhaps it would have taken a little longer, that is all," I said.
"There, watch him, do." For in spite of herself her eyes would stray back
to him. "Frances will be nice to me." And Frances was, until I told her I
must go back to the boys.

There was a minute or two here and there that I could get from the busy
men. But mostly I helped them get away, cleaned their guns, handed in
their stuff, helped them pack, lugged their baggage with them to the
train. Knudsen and I and Clay had one last short walk together, up and
down the embankment beside the train, soberly vowing friendship for the
future. Then the conductor gave the signal, they climbed aboar