CHAPTER XX
That spring would always be a memorable one both to the girls and the country at large, for momentous events followed one upon another in rapid succession. War was declared with Spain, as Kenneth had prophesied, and all the bustle and activity attendant upon the preparations of hostilities with a foreign power were felt throughout the nation.
Kenneth, believing such a crisis inevitable, had prepared to respond promptly to the first call for troops.
There had been a fierce tussle with his father when first he broached the subject, but by that time Mr. Landor had learned that Kenneth’s was not a nature to be forced into subjection and heard him out with far more respect than would have been accorded him a year ago. Mr. Landor suggested, in the course of the talk, that it was a pity to leave the business just as he was mastering it; and Kenneth agreed with him. But all the patriotism in his nature was aroused and this, combined with Hester’s inspiration and his naturally adventurous spirit, held him proof against his father’s arguments. This strength and decision were not lost upon the older man, who, having put forth every argument to keep his son at home, ended the discussion by saying, somewhat abruptly:
“When the call came in ’61 I could not go. I had a father and mother dependent on me. I’m—I’m not dependent on you, Kenneth, and your country needs you. I should have been disappointed in you if you had not wanted to go.”
“Thank you, father,” with a hearty grip of the hand for he thought he understood the personal sacrifice his father was making, though, man-fashion, he said no word.
And so Kenneth used his influence toward the end he had in view, with the good result that when on that twenty-third day of April the President issued his first call for troops, he was given a commission as lieutenant in the crack cavalry troop of Radnor and ordered into the State camp to await developments.
The girls saw the troopers go. They happened to be in the business part of the city that afternoon and were attracted by groups of people standing about and talking excitedly. Further investigation, coupled with the sound of a bugle in the distance, caused them to take refuge on the nearest steps and wait with bated breath for the militia to appear. Electric cars had stopped running, wagons rattled off into the side streets, leaving the main thoroughfare clear, and presently they came—a troop of cavalry followed by a regiment of infantry, the splendid column swinging along to the gay music of the band, whose medley of martial airs wound up suggestively with “The Girl I Left Behind Me.”
The crowd broke into a great spontaneous cheer and cheered and cheered again, shouting until they were hoarse. On the sidewalks, steps, from windows all about, people craned their necks for a last look at the departing soldiers. Women waved their handkerchiefs and wept. Men raised their hats—aye, flung them high in the air—while every man, woman and child who could lay hand on a flag waved it in frantic demonstration. For staid decorous Radnor it was an ovation.
The Dale girls thrilled with excitement. Just as the cavalry passed their steps Julie grabbed Hester and said: