en himself. "No, I'm not going to
China. I'm going over to help fight the Germans."

He was still staring out at the wet fields. Before he could stop
her, before he knew what she was doing, she had caught and kissed
his unworthy hand.

"I knowed you would," she sobbed. "I always knowed you would, you
nice boy, you! Old Mahail' knowed!"

Her upturned face was working all over; her mouth, her eyebrows,
even the wrinkles on her low forehead were working and twitching.
Claude felt a tightening in his throat as he tenderly regarded
that face; behind the pale eyes, under the low brow where there
was not room for many thoughts, an idea was struggling and
tormenting her. The same idea that had been tormenting him.

"You're all right, Mahailey," he muttered, patting her back and
turning away. "Now hurry breakfast."

"You ain't told your mudder yit?" she whispered.

"No, not yet. But she'll be all right, too." He caught up his cap
and went down to the barn to look after the horses.

When Claude returned, the family were already at the breakfast
table. He slipped into his seat and watched his mother while she
drank her first cup of coffee. Then he addressed his father.

"Father, I don't see any use of waiting for the draft. If you can
spare me, I'd like to get into a training camp somewhere. I
believe I'd stand a chance of getting a commission."

"I shouldn't wonder." Mr. Wheeler poured maple syrup on his
pancakes with a liberal hand. "How do you feel about it,
Evangeline?"

Mrs. Wheeler had quietly put down her knife and fork. She looked
at her husband in vague alarm, while her fingers moved restlessly
about over the tablecloth.

"I thought," Claude went on hastily, "that maybe I would go up to
Omaha tomorrow and find out where the training camps are to be
located, and have a talk with the men in charge of the enlistment
station. Of course," he added lightly, "they may not want me. I
haven't an idea what the requirements are."

"No, I don't understand much about it either." Mr. Wheeler rolled
his top pancake and conveyed it to his mouth. After a moment of
mastication he said, "You figure on going tomorrow?"

"I'd like to. I won't bother with baggage--some shirts and
underclothes in my suitcase. If the Government wants me, it will
clothe me."

Mr. Wheeler pushed back his plate. "Well, now I guess you'd
better come out with me and look at the wheat. I don't know but
I'd best plough up that south quarter and put