And right into the midst of this calm and peace came the first note of the Great Strife. To those who thought about it afterwards, it seemed fitting that the news should have been brought by that warlike lady, Mrs. Johnnie Dunn. She was returning from a second trip to town that day, and though she liked to send her Ford whirling through the village as a rebuke to idlers on the store veranda, this evening she slowed up and stopped with a grinding of brakes.
"I say, Sam! Sam Holmes," she cried excitedly, ignoring the crowd on the steps, "I've got some news that'll help spunk up some o' these lazy lumps that's clutterin' up your front door here."
Trooper, who was one of the lumps, tried to efface himself behind Marmaduke, without success. The Woman was glaring right at him.
"Well, well, now, Sarah," said the peaceable Mr. Holmes, "what is it? Has anything gone wrong in town?"
"Gone wrong? Well I should rather say so! Something that'll make yous folks buy another pound or so o' starch, when I tell you."
"Milk gone down?" guessed Marmaduke innocently. The Woman transferred the glare that belonged to her nephew upon his companions in wrong-doing.
"It couldn't go any lower than it is," she affirmed sternly, "but it's likely to go up, yes, and everything else, now! No, sir, there's goin' to be a war, that's what there is. They're fightin' right this minute over in Germany. The news about it was telegraphed up from Toronto to Algonquin and everybody says England'll be in it, first thing."
A small ripple of amusement broke over the still, smoky surface of the the veranda. The Woman was always bringing home startling news and this was only one of many wild rumours.
"I knew somethin' dreadful would happen if you went to town again to-day," muttered Trooper from his sanctuary behind the coal-oil barrel. "No wonder there's a war."
"Well, well, now, I declare, is that true," exclaimed Mr. Holmes, comfortably. "There's always trouble in them Balkans. I suppose Germany has got to have her hand in it too. Them Balkans, now," he continued with the splendid deliberation of one who was an authority on international affairs, "them Balkans," he lit his pipe and gave a couple of puffs, "they're nothing but a hot-bed of dissension and intrigue." And having settled Eastern Europe to every one's satisfaction, he threw away his match and smoked complacently.