“Yes, it’s an awful job,” said Beany. “All the soap gets in their eyes and nose, and there’s the mischief to pay. And I want an expert to wash this kid. It makes their eyes red to get soap in ’em, and I don’t want hers spoiled.”
“Wonder what their names are,” said Porky.
“Oh, they are named all right. I suppose we didn’t get ’em soon enough to attend to that, but we can call ’em what we like. Don’t you know how it is with a registered dog? Don’t you remember the two collies Skippy Fields has, one named Knocklayde King Ben and the other Nut Brown Maiden, and Skippy’s folks called ’em Benny and Nutty. I bet they each have about thirteen names apiece, but while I’m bringing her up, this girl’s going to be called Peggy.”
“And this is Bill,” said Porky without the least hesitation. “Bill. Just Bill so you can yell at him good and easy.”
They went on planning while behind them, over the soft, uneven ground the staff approached unheard and stood watching the little group.
Presently, still unheard and unnoticed by the boys, they turned away.
“And there are those,” said General Pershing solemnly, “who do not believe that a special Providence watches over children! The boys shall take those two orphans home to that good mother of theirs, if it takes an Act of Congress. You say,” he continued, talking to the French officer in his own musical tongue, “you say that poor woman said that all her people were gone?”
“All dead, all lost in this war,” answered the Frenchman.
“Well, if this was only in a movie show,” said the great General, “we would presently see a car headed for the rear, coming around that bend ahead, and we would be able to—well, I declare,” he exclaimed, as one of the officers laughed and pointed. “That’s positively too much!” as the group laughed with him.
A large car was coming along around the bend, it was headed for the rear, and in the tonneau sat a couple of nurses in their snug caps and dark capes!