Recess came at last and he sought out Hugh Reith, his best friend. Hugh was a boy of Bob's own age, almost exactly his size, and as they both liked to do the same things they were bosom companions. Bob was light and Hugh was dark, his hair was almost raven black, and his eyes a deep brown. He had large hands and several crooked fingers owing to the fact that he had broken them playing base ball. He was stronger than Bob, though not so agile or quick on his feet, and while he could defeat his light-haired friend in tests of strength he was not a match for him when it came to speed.
"What do you think of this war, Hugh?" Bob asked eagerly.
"I wish I could enlist," said Hugh.
"So do I, but I guess we can't."
"We're too young, I suppose. Isn't there anything we can do to help?"
"My father thinks we may have trouble with the Germans here in town. If anything starts you can be sure I'm going to get in it if possible."
"Say," exclaimed Hugh, "did you see young Frank Wernberg this morning when the principal was making his speech about patriotism?"
"No, what was he doing?"
"Oh, he was snickering and making side remarks to Jim Scott, and making himself generally objectionable."
"If I'd been Jim I'd have told him to keep quiet," said Bob warmly.