news. Out of the mail box in
the lane Luke got it--going down under an old rubber cape in a steady
blinding pour. It got all damp--the letter, foreign postmark, stamp and
all--by the time he put it into Maw's hand.

It was a double letter--or so one judged, first opening it. There was
another inside, complete, sealed, and addressed in Nat's hand; but one
must read the paper inclosed with it first--that was obvious. It was
just a strip, queer, official looking, with a few lines typed upon it
and a black heading that sprang out at one strangely. They read it
together--or tried to. At first they got no sense from it. Paris--from
clear off in France--and then the words below--and Maw's name at the
top, just like the address on the newspaper:

MRS. JERE HAYNES,
Stony Brook, New York.

It was for Maw all right. Then quite suddenly the words came clear
through the blur:

MRS. JERE HAYNES,
Stony Brook, New York.

_Dear Madam_: We regret to inform you that the official _communique_ for
September sixth contains the tidings that the writer of the enclosed
letter, Nathaniel Haynes, of Stony Brook, New York, U. S. A., was killed
while on duty as an ambulance driver in the Sector of Verdun, and has
been buried in that region. Further details will follow.

The American Ambulance, Paris.

Even when she realized, Maw never cried out. She sat wetting her lips
oddly, looking at the words that had come like evil birds across the
wide spaces of earth. It was Luke who remembered the other letter:

"_My dear kind folks--Father, Mother and Brothers_: I guess I dare call
you that when I get far enough away from you. Perhaps you won't mind
when I tell you my news.

"Well we came over from England last Thursday and struck into our
contract here. Things was going pretty good; but you might guess yours
truly couldn't stand the dead end of things. I bet Maw's guessed
already. Well sir it's that roving streak in me I guess. Never could
stick to nothing steady. It got me bad when I got here any how.

"To cut it short I throwed up my job with the firm yesterday and have
volunteered as an Ambulance driver. Nothing but glory; but I'm going to
like it fine! They're short-handed anyhow and a fellow likes to help
what he can. Wish I could send a little money; but it took all I had to
outfit me. Had to cough up eight bucks for a suit of underclothes. What
do you know about that?

"You can write me in care of the Ambulance, Paris.

"Now Maw d