Outside the early dusk had fallen, the whispering touch of snow flakes brushed against window panes or across the roof. Now and again the wind howled eerily in the chimney. But inside the cabin was only warmth and cheer and comradeship. And as the dancing flames lit up that circles of boyish faces, some flushed and drowsy, others bright-eyed and alert, each one meeting his own glance now and then with a friendly smile, Farren thrilled oddly. McBride sat close on one side of him, little Furn Barber nestled against the other. And presently, when the small boy began to nod, Farren slid an arm around his shoulder and drew the tousled head down upon his knee. How could he have thought the world cold and lonely, he wondered?
They did not sit long in silence. There were jokes and laughter, a story or two, and presently someone started up a song. But all too soon came the jingle of bells and the muffled stamping of the horse, brought up from the red farm house below.
“I hate to break up the party,” said Cavanaugh, scrambling to his feet; “but you know we promised to return you on time.”
“I know.” Farren stood up, smiling a little at Barber’s dazed awakening. “I’m not the least bit keen to leave, but of course I must.”
It was not easy to tell them what that day had meant to him. They could not understand it all; he hoped they never would. But when he had finished, at least they knew that he was grateful. There was a brisk bustle of handshaking, a chorus of good-bys, and he was in the sleigh, looking back at the open door filled with smiling faces and wildly waving hands. Then the faces blurred into mere outlines, black against the glow of the fire, the friendly voices grew fainter, there came a turn in the path and the cabin vanished.
It was nearly an hour before Cavvy and McBride returned, but it was an hour well spent in washing dishes and tidying up generally. It is just possible that this job might have been put off till morning but for the fact that the entire crowd was spending the night here and needed every inch of room. The clearing up had hardly been finished before the two boys were heard outside kicking the snow from their feet. A moment later they entered.
“Greatest news you ever heard,” exclaimed Cavanaugh at once, stripping off his mackinaw and hanging it on some horns to dry. “Jack’s going over!”
“What! Right away?” inquired several voices at once.
“Yep. He starts the first thing in the morning. His Colonel’s had word that the regiment will be a month longer wherever they are in France before going to the front, so he’s sending four or five men who were left behind to join it. Jack’s about crazy with joy.”
“I should think he would be,” remarked Steve Haddon slowly. “It must have been tough having all the others go without him. I’d hate it, I know.”