Larry read the last sentence with a smile. "Dear old Jane," he said to himself. "She wants to help me out; and, by George, she does." Somehow Jane's letter brought healing to his lacerated nerves and heart, and steadied him to bear the disastrous reports of the steady drive of the enemy towards Paris that were released by the censor during the last days of that dreadful August. With each day of that appalling retreat Larry's agony deepened. The reports were vague, but one thing was clear--the drive was going relentlessly forward, and the French and the British armies alike were powerless to stay the overwhelming torrent. The check at the Marne lifted the gloom a bit. But the reports of that great fight were meagre and as yet no one had been able to estimate the full significance of that mighty victory for the Allied armies, nor the part played therein by the gallant and glorious little army that constituted the British Expeditionary Force.
Blacker days came in late September, when the news arrived of the disaster to the Aboukir and her sister ships, and a month later of the destruction of the Good Hope and the Monmouth in the South Pacific sea fight. On that dreadful morning on his way downtown he purchased a paper. After the first glance he crushed the paper together till he reached his office, where he sat with the paper spread out before him on his desk, staring at the headlines, unable to see, unable to think, able only to suffer. In the midst of his misery Professor Schaefer passed through the office on his way to consult with Mr. Wakeham and threw him a smile of cheery triumph.
It was a way Schaefer had these days. The very sight of him was enough to stir Larry to a kind of frenzied madness. This morning the German's smile was the filling up of his cup of misery. He stuffed the paper into his desk, took up his pen and began to make figures on his pad, gnawing his lips the while.
An hour later Hugo Raeder came in with a message for him. Raeder after one look at his face took Larry away with him, sick with rage and fear, in his car, and for an hour and a half drove through the Park at a rate that defied the traffic regulations, talking the while in quiet, hopeful tones of the prospects of the Allies, of the marvellous recovery of the French and British armies on the Marne and of the splendid Russian victories. He touched lightly upon the recent naval disaster, which was entirely due to the longer range of the enemy's guns and to a few extraordinarily lucky shots. The clear, crisp air, the swift motion, the bright sun, above all the deep, kindly sympathy of this strong, clear-thinking man beside him, brought back to Larry his courage if not his cheer.
As they were nearly back to the office again, he ventured his first observation, for throughout the drive he had confined his speech to monosyllabic answers to Raeder's stream of talk.
"In spite of it all, I believe the navy is all right," he said, with savage emphasis.
"My dear chap," exclaimed Raeder, "did you ever doubt it? Did you read the account of the fight?""No," said Larry, "only the headlines."
"Then you did not see that the British ships were distinctly outclassed in guns both as to range and as to weight. Nothing can prevent disaster in such a case. It was a bit of British stupidity to send those old cruisers on such an expedition. The British navy is all right. If not, then God help America.""Say, old chap," said Larry as they stepped out of the car, "you have done me a mighty good turn this morning, and I will not forget it.""Oh, that is all right," said Raeder. "We have got to stand together in this thing, you know.""Stand together?" said Larry.
"Yes, stand together. Don't you forget it. We are with you in this. Deep down in the heart America is utterly sound; she knows that the cause of the Allies is the cause of justice and humanity.
America has no use for either brutal tyranny or slimy treachery.
The real American heart is with you now, and her fighting army will yet be at your side."These sentiments were so unusual in his environment that Larry gazed at him in amazement.
"That is God's truth," said Raeder. "Take a vote of the college men to-day, of the big business men, of the big newspaper men--these control the thinking and the acting of America--and you will find, ninety per cent. of these pro-Ally. Just be patient and give the rest of us time. Americans will not stand for the bully,"added Raeder, putting his hand on Larry's shoulder. "You hear me, my boy. Now I am going in to see the boss. He thinks the same way, too, but he does not say much out loud."New hope and courage came into Larry's heart as he listened to the pronouncement of this clear-headed, virile young American. Oh, if America would only say out loud what Raeder had been saying, how it would tone up the spirit of the Allies! A moral vindication of their cause from America would be worth many an army corps.
The morning brought him another and unexpected breeze of cheer in the person of Dean Wakeham straight from Alberta and the Lakeside Farm. A little before lunch he walked in upon Larry, who was driving himself to his work that he might forget. It was a veritable breath from home for Larry, for Dean was one who carried not only news but atmosphere as well. He was a great, warm-hearted boy, packed with human energies of body, heart and soul.
"Wait till I say good-morning to father," he said after he had shaken hands warmly with Larry. "I will be back then in a minute or two."But in a few minutes Mr. Wakeham appeared and called Larry to him.
"Come in, boy, and hear the news," he said.
Larry went in and found Dean in the full tide of a torrential outpouring of passionate and enthusiastic, at times incoherent, tales of the Canadians, of their spirit, of their sacrifice and devotion in their hour of tragedy.
"Go on, Dean," said Raeder, who was listening with face and eyes aglow.
