CHAPTER XVIII
SERIOUSLY WOUNDED
They walked the rest of the distance to the house in absorbed silence,reading as they went. Then suddenly Betty gave a little cry ofamazement.
"I thought this was for me," she said, holding up a letter. "But itisn't. It's for your mother, Grace. I don't see how I could have madesuch a mistake!"
But Grace only heard the first part of Betty's speech. The last of itpassed right over her head.
"A letter for mother?" she cried. "Oh, give it to me, Betty. It may befrom dad. Oh, it is! It is!" she exclaimed, as she saw her father'sfamiliar writing. "He must have heard about Will. Mother! Mother--" shebroke away from the girls and took the porch steps two at a time, wavingthe letter wildly as she went.
"Oh, if it's only good news, if it's only good news!" Betty foundherself saying over and over again as she, with Mollie, followed Graceinto the house.
They found Mrs. Ford in the living room, pale and trembling a little,holding the envelope in her hand as though she dared not open it. Gracehad collapsed in a chair and was gazing up at her mother with suchagonized pleading in her eyes that the girls could not look at her.
Then very slowly Mrs. Ford tore open the envelope. At the same momentthe girls seemed to sense that they might be in some manner intruding,and with one accord they moved over to the window and stood looking out.
After a wait that seemed interminable they heard Grace say in astrained, far-away little voice:
"Mother, what is it? Can't you tell me? I think I'll die if I have towait any longer."
"Read it," they heard Mrs. Ford say in a choked voice, as a rustle ofpaper told that she had handed the letter to Grace. "I can't tell youdear. Oh, my boy, my boy!" And she sank down in a chair and covered herface with her hands.
The girls turned from the window and started to leave the room, for theyfelt that the moment was too sacred for even them who were so intenselyinterested, to share.
Just as they reached the door they paused, arrested by a cry fromGrace.
"Seriously wounded!" she read in a muffled voice. "Oh, Mother, for allwe know, that may mean Will is--dead!"
They were startled by a muffled sob, and turned in time to see Amy rushfrom the room. Poor little Amy! In the excitement and grief of themoment they had forgotten that she might also be affected by this newsof Will!
Betty and Mollie ran upstairs after her, leaving Grace and her mothertogether.
"And I was so hoping," said Betty as she closed the door softly andMollie flung herself on the bed, "that it would be good news."
"Yes," said Mollie, staring moodily out the window, "it does seem thateverything terrible that can happen to us is happening all at once. Iwonder what's next."
"There isn't going to be any next," said Betty, but in her heart she wasnot so sure. Almost everyone in the world was suffering, one way oranother, and it was only to be expected that they would get their fullshare.
And as she thought of Allen a hot wave of fear went over her, leavingher faint and sick. Out there in the very thickest of the fight, itwould be a miracle if he should be saved to come back to her.
But he must come back, he _must_ come back, her heart cried over andover again. Hadn't he said he would? And Allen always kept his word.
Then she shook herself, and with an effort brought her wandering thoughtback to this new trouble--or rather, confirmation of an old one.
From the time Mrs. Ford had received the telegram telling of Will'swound, they had hoped against hope that it had been a mistake, or thatat least, the wound had not been serious.
But this new report from Washington seemed to put an end to that hope,and there was nothing to do but to face the terrible reality. Will wasseriously wounded in some hospital in France, and, as Grace had said,that might mean that even now he was in a critical condition, perhaps,for all they knew, he had died out there away from all his dear ones andthe friends that loved him.
"I don't suppose there is any use acting as though he were deadalready," said Mollie, breaking in upon her unhappy reverie. "There havebeen several thousand wounded soldiers over there who have recovered."
"Yes, only to be sent back again to the firing line and have it done allover," said Betty bitterly, for, for a time at least, her staunchoptimism had deserted her and she was ready to see the blackest side ofeverything.
"Yes, it does seem that once a soldier has gone down to the very gatesof death, he should be exempted," sighed Mollie, adding dispiritedly:"But I suppose if they made that a rule they wouldn't have any armiesleft after awhile."
"And the boys themselves don't want to be exempted," said Betty, feelinga little thrill of pride in spite of her heartache. "Their one biggestreason for getting well is to be able to get another 'whack at theHun.'"
"Shall we go and see if we can cheer up Amy?" she asked after aninterval filled with gloomy meditation. "She is so brave and quiet abouteverything that you never have a chance to guess how hard she is takingher trouble. Poor girl!"
"I do feel awfully sorry for her," agreed Mollie, shifting unhappily,"but I must say I don't feel very capable of cheering anybody up myself.I never felt so horribly discouraged in my life."
"Well, it doesn't do any good to think about it," said Betty. "Maybe ifwe try to make poor Amy feel better we'll help ourselves at the sametime."
"I suppose it won't do any harm to try," agreed Mollie, rising wearily."But I wish somebody would lend me a smile for a little while till I getmine back again. I might be able to play the role of merry littlesunshine better."
She gave Betty a wry little smile, and arm in arm they started down thehall to Amy's room.
The found the door shut, and tapped lightly upon it. When there was noresponse they rapped again, then tried the knob and found the door waslocked.
"Whatever in the world--" Mollie was beginning apprehensively, when aplaintive voice in the room behind the closed door interrupted her.
"Who is it?"
"It's we, Dear--Mollie and Betty," answered Betty quickly. "Can't youlet us in?"
"I--I'd rather not," replied the voice falteringly. "I'm all right, andI'll be out in a minute. Please don't worry about me. You ought to beused to my making a goose of myself by this time." This last accompaniedby a pitiful little attempt at a laugh.
"All right, Honey," Betty spoke sympathetically, for she had often seenthe time when even her best friend would have been in the way. "We onlywanted to help, that's all. When you want us we'll be in my room."
Amy murmured something in reply, and they slipped back again into theother room and closed the door.
"I guess she feels it even worse than we thought she did," said Molliepityingly. "When Amy cries she is pretty well cut up."
"Well, I guess all we can do now is just sit still and wait tillsomebody wants us," said Betty, sitting down irresolutely and foldingher hands. It was this last action that reminded her of the letter fromJoe Barnes which she had not yet read. Although she had been holding itin her hand all the while, she had completely forgotten there was such aperson as the writer.
At her exclamation Mollie looked up rather listlessly.
"That's so," she said. "You never did find out whether or not Joe Barneshad been accepted. Tell me about it. I'd welcome a diversion--a cycloneor a tidal wave or anything--if it would only get my mind off ourtroubles."
"I'll guarantee it would be effective," returned Betty absently, as shetook up the closely written pages. "It would be like burning yourself tomake you forget you have a toothache."
There was silence for a long while, broken only by the sound of thewaves breaking on the shore and the crackling of the paper as Bettyturned page after page.
It was a long letter, filled with youthful enthusiasm. In it the youthspoke his pleasure in meeting her and his hope that she would not onlyanswer this letter but would allow him to write to her often.
But over and above all the great fact stood out that he had beenaccepted! The doctors had looked hi
m over and declared him fit in everyrespect to serve his country.
As Betty read the last glowing sentence a sob broke from her and sheburied her head in her arms. Mollie went over to her quickly.
"What is it?" she asked anxiously, putting an arm about the LittleCaptain. "You haven't had bad news too, have you, Betty?"
"N-no," sobbed Betty, raising eyes that were shining through her tears."I just love them so--all those splendid boys that are so crazy to givetheir lives for their country, that my heart gets too full sometimes,that's all."
"Then I take it that Joe Barnes has been accepted," Mollie rather statedthan asked.
"Yes," said Betty, feeling for a handkerchief. "And he is simply wildwith joy, Mollie," she added, while the color flooded her face. "TheGermans simply can't last long with that spirit against them. It makesour boys indomitable!"