The Outdoor Girls in Army Service; Or, Doing Their Bit for the Soldier Boys

by Laura Lee Hope

  CHAPTER XI

  A SLACKER?

  Two weeks went by after the great night, two weeks of ceaselessactivity. The fame of Betty's lawn party had spread all overDeepdale, and countless smaller affairs on the same order had beengiven. As imitation is always the sincerest flattery, the girls weredelighted.

  "For we have the fun of knowing we started it," Mollie had said.

  "Yes," said Betty. "We've made people understand that the Red Crossneeds money, but, girls, there's another branch of the war work thatisn't receiving much attention."

  "What's that?" queried Grace, interested. It was just like Betty tohave things entirely thought out before she said anything about them."I never saw anybody with so many plans as you, Betty. You make myhead swim."

  "Well, there's the Y.W.C.A.," Betty explained. "It's doing wonderfulwork, but it will need a great deal more money than it has now, tokeep it up in these war times."

  "Goodness," said Amy. "I wish we'd thought about it sooner. The boysare sure they're going to be called every day, and if we took time toget up anything like the entertainment we had before, we couldn'thave them in it."

  "Oh, we couldn't give an affair like that without the boys," saidMollie decidedly, a fact which she would never have admitted in thehearing of the young men themselves. "And I'd hate to give anythingtame, after the big success we had with the other one."

  "That's just it," Betty pursued, holding a sock up to the light andregarding it critically. "I met Mrs. Barton Ross to-day----"

  "Oh, isn't she lovely?" Amy interrupted enthusiastically. "By thetime you've talked with her five minutes you're willing to promiseher anything in the world."

  "Goodness, I wish I had a gift like that," said Grace. "I could talkall day and nobody'd do _anything_ for me."

  "That's gratitude, isn't it?" said Mollie, in an aggrieved tone."Here I walk two whole blocks out of my way, to buy you a box ofcandy when you didn't even ask me to----"

  "Did you say you bought that box of candy for me?" asked Gracebitterly, eying the alluring box, where it lay in Mollie's lap."Every time I want one I have to look extra sweet and go down on myknees."

  "More ingratitude," sighed Mollie. "Didn't I hear the doctor say youmust stop eating so much ice cream and candy, if you wanted to keepyour marvelous complexion?"

  "No, you didn't," retorted Grace, "for the simple reason, that Ihaven't been to the doctor's for over two years."

  "That's right, I guess it _was_ your mother," Mollie admitted,wickedly helping herself to a delicious morsel.

  "Goodness, my family's been prophesying that thing ever since I canremember," Grace retorted, putting aside her knitting, and drawingnearer to the candy box. "If I had listened to them I'd have worriedmyself into all sorts of things by this time."

  "Instead you'd rather _eat_ yourself into them," sighed Mollieprimly, handing over the box with an air of resignation. "Betty, whatwas it you were saying?"

  Betty chuckled.

  "First of all, Grace is walking off with your wool," she said. "Lookout, Grace, you'll break it."

  "It was about Mrs. Barton Ross, wasn't it?" asked Amy patiently.

  "Oh, yes! Well, she suggested that we give the same performance overagain. Everybody liked it, and any number of people had spoken to herabout it, saying they'd like to see it over again. Of course we'dhave to leave out the booths and things; they would take too muchtime to get ready, but we might give the sketch."

  "Goodness, that's a regular compliment," gurgled Mollie, knittingfuriously. "Instead of--as Roy would say--'getting the hook,' theyask us to do it all over again. I wouldn't have thought any audiencewould stand for it."

  "Well," continued Betty, "I told Mrs. Ross I'd talk it over with youfolks, and if we did it at all, it would be for the benefit of theY.W.C.A. Of course, we don't know how the boys will feel about it."

  But the boys were perfectly willing to give the play again, declaringthat "if Deepdale could stand for it, they surely could."

  Deepdale did stand for it to the amount of a sum that made Mrs.Barton Ross open her eyes wide in delighted astonishment. The affairwas a huge success.

  "I don't know how to thank you," she had said to Betty and Grace, whohad been appointed by the others to take the money to her. "You girlshave waked Deepdale up with a vengeance. We were always intenselypatriotic, but we hardly knew how to go about showing it, until youcame and pointed the way."

  Mrs. Barton Ross was the manager of the local Y.W.C.A., and every onein Deepdale both loved and respected her personally and as aninfluence for good.

  "I believe," said Betty, as the two girls left her and started forhome, "I'd like to join the Y.W.C.A. also if only to be near Mrs.Barton Ross. When I've talked with her for a little while, I alwaysfeel as if I'd been to church, or something like that."

  And that was the way it came about. Not being satisfied with RedCross work alone, the Outdoor Girls joined the Y.W.C.A., and fromthat time on their days were filled to overflowing.

  "It's all very well to knit in the day time," Roy complained onestormy evening, when the four couples of young folks had congregatedin Mollie's cheerful living-room; "but I don't see why you have tokeep it up all evening too. It gets me dizzy just to watch theneedles."

  "Well, why don't you get busy and learn to knit yourselves?" askedMollie with a twinkle. "Percy Falconer was telling me that in oneplace several men had gotten together, and formed a knitting club. Ofcourse, they're too old to join the army or the navy, so they thoughtthey'd do their bit that way."

  "Yes, and they've even made up a knitting song," chuckled Betty. "Andwhile they knit, they sing."

  "The little dears," said Frank disgustedly. "Well, thank heaven, I'mnot too old to fight."

  "I imagine that's just the sort of club dear Percy would like tojoin," remarked Allen, smiling. "It's easier to imagine him in acorner by the fireside knitting socks for soldiers, than in any otherrole."

  Percy Falconer was the dude of Deepdale, whom the other vigorous andhearty young folks pitied more than they despised.

  "I wonder if he'll enlist," said Roy interestedly. "It's kind of hardto picture old Percy washing his own dishes."

  "Enlist!" snorted Frank. "Of course he won't. He'll wait till he'sdrafted, and then pray every night that he'll be sick or something,so he won't have to go. I know his kind."

  "Oh, there'll probably be a lot that will try to dodge the draft bydropping hammers on their toes, and cutting off their fingers and allsuch clever and noble little things as that," said Allen.

  "Oh, Allen, do you think so?" asked Amy, gazing at him with horrifiedeyes over her knitting.

  "Why, of course," Roy backed him up. "It won't happen so much amongour boys. The slum districts will get most of it. Some of thosesuckers would do almost anything to get out of fighting."

  "Goodness," said Betty, with a little shiver. "I should think itwould take lots more courage to hurt yourself than to take a chanceon getting shot in the trenches. I don't see how anybody can do it."

  "Oh, they're doing worse things than that," said Allen with achuckle. "Hundreds of the scared ones are getting married in the hopethat they can get out of it that way."

  "Jumping from the frying pan into the fire," grinned Roy.

  "Or from one war to another," added Frank, while the girls made facesat them.

  "But isn't Congress going to pass some sort of law," asked Bettyearnestly--Allen reflected how very pretty she was when inearnest--"that will make that kind of man serve first? It seems to meI read something about it in the paper."

  "Goodness, I don't even get time to read the paper any more," sighedAmy. "I feel wicked if I stop knitting for five minutes."

  "We'll allow you that much," said Allen graciously. "Why, yes, thereis a law like that pending, Betty, and I imagine there will be quitea few happy homes broken up."

  "Did you hear about Herb Wilson?" asked Roy suddenly.

  Herbert Wilson was another of the Deepdale boys.

  "No," was the an
swer. "What's he been doing now?"

  "Why, he was spending the week-end at a house party when his folkstelegraphed him that his orders had come, and he was to report forduty the next morning. Well, the poor old chap didn't even have timeto get home and say goodbye--had to rush off the next morning and wassent down South. His mother came over to see mine, and, the way shewent on about it, you'd have thought Herb was going to be shot atsunrise!"

  "Herb ought to answer like the old negro my uncle had on hisplantation," remarked Allen with a smile. "'Marse,' he said, 'darain't no chaince o' my bein' shot at sunrise--no, sah. I don' nevergit up dat early.'"

  They laughed, and Grace remarked casually:

  "I admire that negro. He has my own idea exactly."

  "You know, as far as I'm concerned I rather envy Herb," said Frank,while the girls stared at him in surprise. "Not for being called awaywithout having time to say good-bye to his folks, of course, but forreceiving his orders. Waiting and expecting them every day is mightyhard on your nerves, I can tell you."

  "Gee, it's time we were moving, Grace," said Will, jumping up. He hadbeen silent for the greater part of the evening. "It's getting lateand you've done enough knitting for one day."

  This was the signal for a general breaking up, and as the young folksrose to say good-bye they stole furtive glances at Will.

  What was the matter with him? they wondered. Will, who had alwaysbeen the life of a party before, and so intensely patriotic andthoroughly American! Yet he was the only one among them who was notshouldering his share of the nation's responsibility.

  As Allen lingered after he and Betty had reached her home she spokeher wonderment and worry.

  "Allen," she said, a little troubled line between her brows, "do youknow what's the matter with Will? Is he, can he be--a slacker?"

  "I don't know," said Allen, shoving his hands deep into his pocketsas he always did when anything was, as he expressed it, "too deep forhim." "I can't make him out at all, Betty. We'll just have to hopefor the best."

  "That's all we can do," she answered, and gave a long-drawn sigh.