"We have been too much occupied right along in being sorry
for the poor old professor."
"Well, if you had known the boys, you would have thought of their side
of it all right," said Frank seriously, "They are mighty good scouts,
both of them, and they think a lot of their old dad, too, I can tell
you. Why, many a night"-- his voice took on a reminiscent note and the
girls felt once again that they were privileged in having a brief
glimpse of the life "over there"-- "when a surprise attack was
scheduled for the next morning or we were waiting for some such
manoeuvre from the enemy, Arnold would talk to me about his dad-- that
was the time when fellows got chummy, you know, and got to know each
other's souls-- and once he gave me a note for the old chap and asked
me to deliver it if I came through and he didn't. I think I have it
about me somewhere." He fumbled about in his pockets while the girls
waited silently.
Presently he drew forth a little slip of paper, muddy and worn and
dust-stained from being carried about for a long, long time in a khaki
pocket.
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