ty of our
home?... We all felt the boy's eagerness, his fire, his patriotism.
Wayward as he's been, we suddenly were proud of him. We let him go. We
gave him up. He was a part of our flesh an' blood--sent by us
Andersons--to do our share."

Anderson paused in his halting speech, and swallowed hard. His white
face twitched strangely and his brow was clammy. Lenore saw that his
piercing gaze looked far beyond her for the instant that he broke down.

"Jim was a born fighter," the father resumed. "He wasn't vicious. He
just had a leanin' to help anybody. As a lad he fought for his little
pards--always on the right side--an' he always fought fair.... This
opportunity to train for a soldier made a man of him. He'd have made his
mark in the war. Strong an' game an' fierce, he'd ... he'd ... Well,
he's dead--he's _dead!_... Four months after enlistment he's dead....
An' he never had a rifle in his hands! He never had his hands on a
machine-gun or a piece of artillery!... He never had a uniform! He never
had an overcoat! He never ..."

Then Mr. Anderson's voice shook so that he had to stop to gain control.
Lenore was horrified. She felt a burning stir within her.

"Lemme get this--out," choked Anderson, his face now livid, his veins
bulging. "I'm drove to tell it. I was near all day locatin' Jim's
company. Found the tent where he'd lived. It was cold, damp, muddy.
Jim's messmates spoke high of him. Called him a prince!... They all owed
him money. He'd done many a good turn for them. He had only a thin
blanket, an' he caught cold. All the boys had colds. One night he gave
that blanket to a boy sicker than he was. Next day he got worse....
There was miles an' miles of them tents. I like to never found the
hospital where they'd sent Jim. An' then it was six o'clock in the
mornin'--a raw, bleak day that'd freeze one of us to the marrow. I had
trouble gettin' in. But a soldier went with me an'--an' ..."

Anderson's voice went to a whisper, and he looked pityingly at Lenore.

"That hospital was a barn. No doctors! Too early.... The nurses weren't
in sight. I met one later, an', poor girl! she looked ready to drop
herself!... We found Jim in one of the little rooms. No heat! It was
winter there.... Only a bed!... Jim lay on the floor, dead! He'd fallen
or pitched off the bed. He had on only his underclothes that he had
on--when he--left home.... He was stiff--an' must have--been dead--a
good while."

Lenore held out her trembli