The boys noted with satisfaction that the tents were good-sized. They gave their whole attention to the work in hand, and the others seemed secretly to agree to put aside the day's excitements for a space.
After dinner they followed Mr. Leffingwell to his den, where Mrs. Potter took out her knitting. She had a very large knitting bag, and it seemed full of balls of wool.
Colonel Bright noticed it. "Looks as though you were going into the knitting game wholesale."
Mrs. Potter smiled. "Not quite," she said. "I am making two complete sets for a couple of young men who are going into the service."
Porky felt of the soft, light yarn. "I say—that's pretty good of you, mom. Who are your lucky friends?"
"That reminds me of something," said the Colonel. "I know a couple of lads, about like Porky and Beany here, who have been crazy to go across. I have been watching them for some time, and have about made up my mind that they would be a real help to me over there, and not a hindrance. So I have been pulling wires, and making plans, and I think it looks as though I can take them with me. It's just about the job you boys were joking about wanting."
"No joke at all!" said Porky bitterly. "Oh, gee; now some one else has it!"
"Why, you don't mean that you really meant it?" said the Colonel.
"I wish you had made it clear!"
"We couldn't have tried harder to make it clear unless we had hit you, Colonel," said Beany sadly.
"Well, that's too bad," said the Colonel. "These fellows are just about your age. Perhaps they seem older to me because they have had a lot of responsibility that has made them older. It's too bad."