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Page 38
"Just you look out for yourselves," said Mrs. Potter. "I'd like
a couple of boys sent home safe and sound. That's what I'd like
to remember things by." She stabbed the needles through her
knitting and, rising, left the room. The boys looked after her.
Beany made a move to follow, but his brother pushed him back.
"Let her alone," he said. "She likes to be brave."
That evening passed like lightning, although all the traps had
been ready for days. Gladdis, the cook, had baked them a
wonderful fruit cake, and Mr. Leffingwell came home with four new
comfort kits and a portable typewriter for each one--a little
typewriter that would go in one end of a suit-case.
Everybody seemed more than happy, quite noisy, in fact. There
was not a moment when anybody felt the least bit--the least bit--
well, you know! That is, not a moment except just at bedtime.
Then Mrs. Potter came into the boys' room, and gave them each a
little, thin package. She just handed it to them and kissed them
goodnight, and went out.
"Let's see what they are," said Porky. There were two little
leather cases. Inside were Mom Potter's pretty, motherly dear
face, and pop's splendid, homely countenance. Porky jerked out
the light.
The following morning, Mr. Leffingwell's car, crowded with the
whole family, was the first to arrive at the station. The Potter
boys wandered restlessly about until Colonel Bright, followed by
his wife and daughter and a Japanese house-man loaded with rugs
and bags, came breezing in with a hearty greeting for everybody.
Mr. Leffingwell bustled about, tipping everybody he could find
to tip. Timmins and the elevator boy took Asa out on the
platform and sat him on a truck where he could see everybody the
very last minute. And all at once it was the very last minute;
and somehow everybody had shaken hands and had talked loudly,
and the boys had kissed their mother--a kiss to be remembered,
and had swung on board. The train started. The boys strained
for one last look at their parents. They thought they smiled.
Asa turned to Timmins.
"Gee, the light hurts a feller's eyes," he said.
CHAPTER XII
SUNDAY AT SEA
It seemed to the boys as though they could never tire of the
novelty and charm of the open sea. By Sunday they had explored
the perfect little ship Firefly from stem to stern. They had
made friends with every man on board and were in the way of
accumulating a strange assortment of facts from their new
friends.
Sunday services, read by the grizzled old Captain, seemed very
solemn and strangely touching. They were held on deck, where the
rattling of shrouds and the soft lap of the water made a
wonderful accompaniment to the familiar words of the prayer book.
The boys could not help noticing that every man listened closely
and respectfully. They joined in the responses, and sang lustily
when it came time for the hymns.
The Captain did not read a sermon. Instead he closed the book,
and for a short five minutes spoke to the men simply, clearly,
and to the point. Then there was one more song. Services do not
usually end with it; but as the sound rose, the boys thrilled and
chilled with patriotism. It was "My Country, 'tis of thee" and
those men roared it from the depths of their big, honest, loyal
hearts.
When the group scattered, Porky and Beany went forward and stood
looking into the distance that bid their Great Adventure. That
the Adventure was at that moment approaching, drawing nearer and
nearer, they did not dream. The sea looked too calm, too serene,
to hide such a terror. They were talking about the safe and
quiet crossing they were having when Colonel Bright approached.
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