Short Stories of the New America Part 27

"And Ben--" she faltered.

"He must have been there," he answered.

"He-he--"

But she did not finish her timorous question. She caught the contagion of the fire in her husband's eyes and sealed her lips. And he, stooping, kissed those lips as he used to kiss them before the boy came.

The next morning Carter drank his coffee black, and when Kitty brought on the war doughnuts he shoved them aside.

"Don't make any more," he said. "Cut 'em out altogether. That's the trick."

And when on the eight-ten Newell came round with a recipe for making frosting without sugar, Carter refused to listen.

"Look here, Newell," he protested, "those confounded things don't interest me."

"They don't?" returned Newell ominously.

"Not a little bit," Carter continued calmly.

"You mean to tell me you aren't interested in conservation?"

"Did I say that?"

"Well, it amounts to the same thing, doesn't it?"

"Not on your tintype!" replied Carter. "Look here, Newell, you've been talking pretty plain to me lately and perhaps I've deserved it, but it leaves me free to give you a few ideas of my own. What we've got to do is to face this war-not duck it. We aren't going to win with subst.i.tutes but with sacrifices. The trouble with you and your crowd-the trouble with me-is that we've been trying to eat our cake and save it too. What's the use of those fool recipes of yours? The time has come to give up cake and pie and doughnuts-then why in thunder not give them up and be done with it?"

"But the Government doesn't ask that," cut in Newell.

"Who's the Government?" demanded Carter.

"Why-why--"

"You are. I am," Carter cut in, answering his own question. "That's all there is to it. And if you want to understand how important you are, just multiply yourself by a hundred million. That's what Hoover does. Do it for yourself."

Newell smiled a little maliciously.

"Perhaps you're right, old man. By the way, I'm on this Third Liberty Loan committee, and if you'll tell me how much I can look ahead for from you it would help."

"Ten thousand dollars," answered Carter. "In the meantime, if you hear of anyone who wants to buy a house, let me know."

"You aren't going to leave us?"

"Not if I can hire a cheap place round town," answered Carter.

"Say-but you are plunging," exclaimed Newell uncomfortably.

"We can't let that Chateau-Thierry victory go for nothing," answered Carter quietly.

At last-at last Carter himself had declared war. That was why when he received a cable to the effect that Private Ben Carter was reported seriously wounded the man could sign his name firmly to the receipt.

The time had come for the Huns to take seriously the entry of the United States into the war.

-Frederick Orin Bartlett.