“I should say so!” agreed Jerry. “I never dreamed of this. What does it all mean?”
“It’s his girl—Helena Schaeffer,” said Ned. “Isn’t it true, Bob, that she has spoken to you against volunteering?”
“Yes, she has, and that’s what makes me worry. I was going to keep still about it, and try to work everything out myself. But I don’t believe I can. You know— Oh, well, I’m awfully fond of Helena, and I think she likes me, a little. This is among friends, of course.”
“Of course,” murmured Jerry and Ned.
“And she’s as good as said that if I enlist to fight against Germany, when her father is so fond of the old Kaiser, and what he represents, that she’ll—well—she and I will have to part company, that’s all!” and Bob blurted out the words.
“What are you going to do?” and Ned asked the question relentlessly. This was no time for half-way measures, he felt.
Bob did not answer for a moment. They were talking in the street in front of Colonel Wentworth’s office. And then, at what seemed a most opportune moment, a phonograph in a near-by store began playing one of the popular songs of the day; a song with the lilt of marching steps and an appeal for every one to do his duty and fight for Uncle Sam.
Bob straightened up. His eyes grew brighter and he squared his shoulders in a way his chums well know.
“Boys!” he exclaimed, “I’ve been a fool to hold back one minute on this thing. If you’ll wait a little while, I’ll come back and give you my answer. And you don’t have to guess what it is, either.”
He started off down the street.