"Ah, say, how"d you get that way?" says I. "Back up!"

He"s off, though, callin" Mrs. Stanton Bliss. And before I can escape he"s sickin" her on real enthusiastic. Also there"s Vee urgin" me to see if I can"t do something to locate Wilfred. So I had to make the stab.

"Got that wire with you?" I asks.

Yes, Mrs. Bliss had all the doc.u.ments right handy. I takes the yellow sheet over under the readin" lamp and squints at it sleuthy, partly to kill time, and partly because I couldn"t think of anything else to do.

And of course they all have to gather round and watch me close, as if I was about to pull some miracle. Foolish! It was a great deal worse than that.

"H-m-m-m-m!" says I. "Philadelphia. I suppose there"s some sort of naval trainin" station there, eh?"

Mr. Robert says there is.

"But if Wilfred was at it," I goes on, "and didn"t want you to find him, he wouldn"t have sent this from there, would he?"

Mrs. Stanton Bliss sighs. "I"m sure I don"t know," says she. "I--I suppose not."

"Must be somewhere within strikin" distance of Philadelphia, though,"

says I. "Now, what camp is near?"

"Couldn"t we wire someone in Washington and find out?" asks Mrs. Bliss.

"Sure," says I. "And we"d get an official answer from the Secretary of War about 11 A.M. next spring. It"ll be a lot quicker to call up Whitey Weeks."

They don"t know everything in newspaper offices, but there are mighty few things they can"t find out. Whitey, though, didn"t even have to consult the copy desk or the clippin" bureau.

"About the nearest big one," says he, "is the Ambulance Corps Camp at Allentown. Somewhere up on the Lehigh. S"long."

Here was another jolt for Mrs. Stanton Bliss. The Ambulance Corps! She near keeled over again, just hearin" me say it. Oh, oh! Did I really believe Wilfred could have been as rash as that?

"Why," says she, "they drive right up to the trenches, don"t they? Isn"t that fearfully dangerous?"

"War isn"t a parlor pastime," puts in Mr. Robert. "And the ambulance drivers take their chances with the rest of the men. But there"s no fightin" going on at Allentown. If Wilfred is there----"

"If he is," cuts in Mrs. Bliss, "I must go to him this very moment."

Some way that statement seemed to cheer Mr. Robert up a lot.

"Naturally," says he. "I"ll look up a train for you. Just a second. In the A"s. Allentown--Allen. Ah, page 156. M-m-m. Here you are. First one starts at 2 A.M. and gets you in at 5.15. Will that do?"

Mrs. Bliss turns on him sort of dazed, and blinks them round eyes of hers. She"s a fairly well put up old girl, you know, built sort of on the pouter-pigeon type, but with good lines below the waist, and a complexion that she"s taken lots of pains with. Dresses real cla.s.sy, and, back to, she"s often mistaken for daughter Marion. Travels in quite a gay bunch, I understand, with Mr. Stanton Bliss kind of trailin" along behind. Usually, when she ain"t indulgin" in hysterics, she has very fetchin" kittenish ways. You know the kind. Their specialty"s makin" the surroundin" males jump through the hoop for "em. But when it comes to arrivin" anywhere at 5.15 A.M.--well, not for her.

"I should be a sight," says she.

"You"d still be a mother, wouldn"t you?" asks Mr. Robert.

It was rough of him, as he was given to understand by the looks of all three ladies present, includin" Mrs. Robert; so he tries to square himself by lookin" up a ten o"clock train, all Pullman, with diner and observation.

"I would gladly take you up myself," says he, lyin" fluent, "if I didn"t have to go back to my boat. But here is Torchy. He"ll go, I suppose."

"Of course," says Vee.

And that"s how I came to be occupyin" drawin"-room A, along with mother and sister Marion, as we breezes up into the Pennsylvania hills on this Wilfred hunt. A gushy, giggly young party Marion is, but she turns out to be quite a help. It was her who spots the two young soldiers driftin"

through towards the smokin" compartment, and suggests that maybe they"re goin" to the same camp.

"And they would know if Wilfred was there, wouldn"t they?" she adds.

"Maybe," says I. "I"ll go ask."

Nice, clean-cut young chaps they was. They"d stretched out comfortable on the leather seats, and was enjoyin" a perfectly good smoke, until I shows up. The minute I appears, though, they chucks their cigars and jumps up, heels together, right hand to the hat-brim. That"s what I get by havin" this d.i.n.ky bar on my shoulders.

"Can it, boys," says I. "This is unofficial."

"At ease, sir?" suggests one.

"As easy as you know how," says I.

Yes, they says they"re ambulancers; on their way back to Allentown, too. But they didn"t happen to know of any Wilfred Stanton Bliss there.

"You see, sir," says one, "there are about five thousand of us, so he might----"

"Sure!" says I. "But mother"ll want an affidavit. Would you mind droppin" in and bein" cross-examined? There"s sister Marion, too."

Obligin" chaps, they were; let me tow "em into the drawin"-room, listened patient while Mrs. Bliss described just how Wilfred looked, and tried their best to remember havin" seen such a party. Also they gave her their expert opinion on how long the war was goin" to last, when Wilfred would be sent over, and what chances he stood of comin" back without a scratch.

Once more it was Marion who threw the switch.

"Tell me," says she, "will he be wearing a uniform just like yours?"

They said he would.

"Oh!" gurgles Marion, "I think it is perfectly spiffy. Don"t you, mother? I"m just crazy to see Wilfred in one."

Mother catches the enthusiasm. "My n.o.ble boy!" says she, rollin" her eyes up.

From then on she"s quite chipper. The idea of findin" sonny made over into a smart, dashin" soldier seemed to crowd out all the panicky thoughts she"d been havin". From little hints she let drop, I judged that she was already picturin" him as a gallant hero, struttin" around haughty and givin" off stern commands. Maybe he"d been made a captain or something. Surely they would soon see that her Wilfred ought to be an officer of some kind.

"And we must have his portrait painted," she remarks, claspin" her hands excited as the happy thought strikes her.

The boys looked steady out of the window and managed to smother the smiles. I imagine they"d seen all sorts of mothers come to camp.

It"s a lively little burg, Allentown, even if I didn"t know it was on the map before. At the station you take a trolley that runs straight through the town and out to the fair grounds, where the camp is located.

Goin" up the hill, you pa.s.s through the square and by the Soldiers"

Monument. Say, it"s some monument, too. Then out a long street lined with nice, comfortable-lookin" homes, until you get a glimpse of blue hills rollin" away as far as you can see, and there you are.

The boys piloted us past the guard at the gates, through a grove of trees, and left us at the information bureau, where a soldier wearin"

sh.e.l.l-rimmed gla.s.ses listened patient while mother and sister both talked at once.

"Bliss? Just a moment," says he, reachin" for a card-index box. "Yes, ma"am. Wilfred Stanton. He"s here."