CHAPTER III
The Call to Service
On a ledge of rock with the Pacific Ocean as a background a girl wasstanding, holding a bugle to her lips and with it sounding a clear,musical call.
Not far off a number of persons were seated about a smouldering campfire. All day the sun had been hot, almost as a tropic sun, but now withthe coming of the late afternoon a cool breeze was blowing in from thesea.
The feminine members of the little circle were knitting and sewing.
One of the two young men was holding a hank of wool, which abrown-haired, brown-eyed girl was winding slowly and carefully into agreat ball. The other was lying full length on the ground looking towardthe water.
"Why is my Sister Peggy sounding taps or a reveille, since at presentit is neither morning nor night?" he questioned. "It seems impossiblethese days to get away from the sights and sounds which suggest war. Ihad hoped that when we were in camp out here in this far-away country wemight at least have a _little_ rest."
Billy Webster's manner was that of a spoiled and fretful boy;nevertheless an uncomfortable silence followed his speech.
Ever it appears impossible in this world, even among a small group ofpersons, to preserve entire harmony! In spite of his youth and hisfragility, in spite of his quiet voice and oftentimes gentle manner,Billy Webster, from the time he ceased wearing dresses, had been able tosow discord. The trouble was that Billy always refused to think like thepeople surrounding him.
At present, when the entire Camp Fire party was interested heart andsoul in the successful carrying on of the war, Billy had announcedhimself a pacifist. If he had contented himself with the mereannouncement, his friends and family would have accepted his point ofview with comparative equanimity. But with Billy the frequentexposition of his opinions was as the breath of life.
At this moment Vera Lagerloff leaned over to say in a whisper:
"For goodness' sake, Billy, please don't start an argument now on thesubject of the war. You know how intensely Mrs. Burton disapproves ofyour ideas and how angry you make Dan."
Peggy descended from her rocky platform at this instant and joined thegroup. She was wearing her workaday Camp Fire costume and had her darkhair braided in two braids with a red band about her forehead.
"What is it, Peggy? You look as if you had something important toconfide to us?" Mrs. Burton asked quickly, hoping to stem the flood ofeloquence with which her nephew ordinarily met opposition. "I confess Iam as curious as Billy to know why you sounded a bugle call at this hourof the afternoon."
Peggy sat down in camp-fire fashion on the ground, frowning and lookingextremely serious. A bunch of pale lavender sea verbena she had gatherednearer the shore, she dropped in her mother's lap.
She did not know what Billy had been saying, but she was conscious thatthe atmosphere about her was uncomfortable.
Dan had not moved from his patient attitude, in order that Sally Ashtonmight continue to unwind her wool, yet his expression was not like hisusual sweet-tempered one. Peggy at once surmised that Billy was in someway responsible for the unrest.
"Perhaps my bugle call was a little theatrical," she began;"nevertheless it was the call to service of our new order of 'Camp FireMinute Girls.'"
Mrs. Burton nodded. "Yes, I remember. The 'Camp Fire Minute Girls' areto pledge themselves to help in winning the war by food conservation, bypraying for the triumph of the right, and by economizing in everypossible way. I received a little booklet containing our new pledge andmeant to speak of it to you."
In spite of the fact that Mrs. Burton was talking, she was not actuallyinterested in what she was saying at the moment. Somewhere in the lastrow of her knitting she had dropped a stitch and while she spoke she wasendeavoring to find it. As head of their small Red Cross society, Mrs.Webster was determined that their work should come up to the requiredstandard. Knitting was not a natural art with Mrs. Burton and sheparticularly disliked unraveling her work after she supposed itfinished.
Peggy reached over and quietly removed the gray sweater from her aunt'shands.
"You cannot pay attention to what anyone is saying and knit at the sametime, Tante; I have seen you make the attempt before," Peggy remarkedpersuasively, "so please cease your efforts for a moment, as we havesomething of the utmost importance to talk about. Bettina, now that Ihave prepared the way, suppose you make things clearer. I have not yourgift of words."
"It is only that we have been talking of the 'Camp Fire Minute Girls'and consider that we should follow the pledge very earnestly thissummer," Bettina began. "We feel that really we ought to organize ourcamp fire on a new war basis. You have always been so generous to us,but this summer we wish to use only the new war recipes and to save andserve in every possible way. The advantage will be not only for thepresent time, but perhaps later with our own families. Peggy and Ithought that we might even start a little garden near our camp, asvegetables grow so quickly in California. I suppose our ideas ofhelpfulness are rather vague and foolish, but that is why we wished totalk the situation over with you and Mrs. Webster and arrange somedefinite plan."
Mrs. Burton nodded. "An excellent idea, Bettina, and the sooner weAmericans learn some method of less extravagant living the nearer we areto victory and the ending of the war. I wish I were a more apt pupilmyself. Of course I am willing to agree with whatever you girls thinkbest."
"Then we may help the soldiers in any way we like?" Sally Ashtoninquired with such unexpected enthusiasm that everybody laughed.
"I do not care for any too strikingly original ideas of first-aidservice, Sally," Mrs. Burton remonstrated.
Billy roused himself from his recumbent position and leaned forward. Asingle flame which had shot up from the smouldering fire cast a glowover his colorless face.
"I have been traveling with the Camp Fire party now for a good manyweeks," he remarked in the suspiciously gentle manner with which heoften began his verbal attacks, "and I am yet to hear one single wordabout an immediate peace. I cannot see what difference it will make inthe end which country is victor. What the whole world must attain to isjustice for every human being. I thought women were supposed to be thenatural peace makers." Billy smiled--a malicious little smile which wasvaguely irritating. "Women never have been peace makers or peace lovers.If they had do you suppose men would have continued fighting one anotherforever?"
"But, Billy--" Mrs. Burton began and suddenly ceased. A glance at hersister's face had been sufficient.
Besides, Dan Webster, released from his attention to Sally, had walkedover and stood facing his mother and brother.
The two brothers, though, twins, were utterly unlike in appearance. Forone thing, Dan was nearly six feet tall and splendidly built, with avivid color and a suggestion of unusual physical health and power.
"I am sorry, Mother," he said in the voice he kept especially for hismother, "but I can't stay here and listen to Billy's nonsense anddisloyalty. He is simply in love with the sound of his own voice andalways has been. He has not the faintest understanding of the big thingshe talks about. I have stood a good deal from Billy first and last fromthe time we were children, because he was little and delicate and I wasnot supposed to treat him as I would have treated other fellows. I tellyou candidly what Billy needs right now and what he always has needed isto have his head punched. He always has taken refuge in his delicacy andhidden behind women. He is doing the same thing now with all this peacetalk and half-baked socialism. I wonder how far socialism would havetraveled if men had never fought for their rights and the rights ofother people? I wish the socialists in this country would think of thatlittle fact now and then. I suppose if no one had ever _fought_ forliberty, most of us would be slaves. But I seem to be talking as much asBilly! It is only this, Mother, don't you see that Billy and I cannotboth remain with the Camp Fire party this summer? I don't wish it tohappen, but I am afraid if he goes on as he has been doing--and you knownothing ever stops him--why, there will be trouble between us, that isall. If you will
only give your consent I am sure I can persuade fatherto allow me to volunteer."
Mrs. Webster's eyes filled with tears. Dan was too interested inwatching his mother to pay any attention to Billy's good-natured drawl.
"Good old Dan, there is some truth in what you say, I suppose. There isa little truth in most people's opinions. But what a story-book hero youwill make some day! It is all right, your rubbing it in about my notbeing as strong as other fellows; I suppose you don't know that hurts alittle."
"My dear Dan, I did not dream you could be so unreasonable!" Mrs.Webster returned, having finally gained sufficient control of her voiceto speak. "You know perfectly well I shall never give my consent to yourvolunteering for any branch of the army until you have reached the draftage. Moreover, if you have a difficulty with Billy you know how muchsorrow that means for me. Besides, your aunt and the girls and I needyou here with us at our camp fire this summer. If I could, I would sendBilly back to the farm instead of you, but he still needs the benefit ofthis southern climate."
Poor Mrs. Webster, like many other mothers, often found her children toogreat a problem for her solving.
By this time Billy was again prostrate on the earth with his eyes fixedupon the sky and apparently perfectly serene. Even his mother'sstatement in regard to sending him home had not disturbed him, althoughhe and his father chronically misunderstood each other.
Dan was repentant. "Sorry, Mother," he said; "this was not the time orplace for me to open this discussion with you. I am sure I begeverybody's pardon."
Then he turned and walked away.