“Suppose we go outside and see if we can find any sign of them,” Evelyn suggested. “It’s hot in here.”
So out they went, making a very handsome group as they looked eagerly in all directions, vainly hoping to catch a glimpse of the big gray car.
“Phil, I’m terribly worried,” Lucile murmured drawing closer to her brother and slipping her hand into his for comfort.
Phil squeezed the little hand reassuringly. “Half an hour from now we’ll be laughing at our fears,” he said, cheerfully, trying hard at the same time to convince himself.
“Seems to me there’s a good deal more noise than there was, Jack. Why are all those boys running around like chickens with their heads cut off? They all have papers, too.” Jessie was frankly puzzled. 180
“They are newsboys, little coz, and they wouldn’t be flattered by our comparison. They are yelling what, in United States, would be ‘extra!’ I’ll get a paper and see if I can puzzle out some of the French,” and he strolled down to intercept one of the hurrying urchins.
Lucile watched him as he sauntered leisurely back, wondering, in her distracted little brain, how he could be interested in anything when he ought to be as anxious as she. “But it isn’t his mother and father,” she explained to herself.
Meanwhile, Jack’s puzzled frown had turned to a look of absolute dismay and incredulity as he read.
“What is it?” Phil asked. “Everybody seems to be getting more excited and worked up every minute. Look at that group of men over there. Does the paper throw any light on the subject, Jack?”
“Well, I should say so!” cried Jack, in huge excitement. “Look here, all of you!” And while they gathered around him, expecting they knew not what calamity, he brokenly read the headlines: “Austria declares war on Servia. Open break with Russia apprehended. Germany sides with Austria——”