As the girls walked with Grace toward her house, the Ford home being the first on their way, they saw a messenger boy with his little black-covered book and a bunch of telegrams just turning into the gate.
"There's a message!" exclaimed Grace, breaking into a run. "I want to take it from him before he rings the bell. Mamma is so nervous at the sight of a telegram. She always thinks the worst thing has happened. I suppose this is from Will, saying he is on his way home. Poor boy! he has had a lesson."
"I feel sorry for him, too," said Betty.
"I'll take the message," spoke Grace to the boy, as she signed the extended book. "Prepaid? Yes. Here is a dime for yourself. Get a hot chocolate; you must be cold."
"T'anks!" was the reply. "I kin git two for dat!"
"I hope he won't buy cigarettes," ventured Mollie.
"Nonsense!" answered Grace, as she tore open the message, which was addressed to her father. She felt she had a right to do this, as, had it been some business communication, she argued, it would have gone to Mr. Ford's office. Grace felt sure it was from her brother.
Quickly she read the brief message in the waning light of the winter day. Then she swayed and her face paled.
"What is it—bad news?" asked Betty quickly, as she put her arms around her chum.
"Yes—yes. It's about—Will. Read it. Poor mother! How can I tell her? And she has been expecting him so!"