gland?

"I wonder if my father will go to war!" Dick broke out suddenly, as he and
Harry walked along.

"I hadn't thought of that!" said Harry, startled. "Oh, Dick, I'm sorry!
Still, I suppose he'll go, if his country needs him!"

CHAPTER II

QUICK WORK

At home, Harry had an early dinner with his father and mother, who were
going to the theatre. They lived in a comfortable house, which Mr. Fleming
had taken on a five-year lease when they came to England to live. It was
one of a row of houses that looked very much alike, which, itself, was one
of four sides of a square. In the centre of the square was a park-like
space, a garden, really. In this garden were several tennis courts, with
plenty of space, also, for nurses and children. There are many such squares
in London, and they help to make the British capital a delightful place in
which to live.

As he went in, Harry saw a lot of the younger men who lived in the square
playing tennis. It was still broad daylight, although, at home, dusk would
have fallen. But this was England at the end of July and the beginning of
August, and the light of day would hold until ten o'clock or thereabout.

That was one of the things that had helped to reconcile Harry to living in
England. He loved the long evenings and the chance they gave to get plenty
of sport and exercise after school hours. The school that he and Dick
attended was not far away; they went to it each day. A great many of the
boys boarded at the school, but there were plenty who, like Dick and Harry,
did not. But school was over now, for the time. The summer holidays had
just begun.

At the table there was much talk of the war that was in the air. But Mr.
Fleming did not even yet believe that war was sure.

"They'll patch it up," he said, confidently. "They can't be so mad as to
set the whole world ablaze over a little scrap like the trouble between
Austria and Servia."

"Would it affect your business, dear?" asked Mrs. Fleming. "If there really
should be war, I mean?"

"I don't think so," said he. "I might have to make a flying trip home, but
I'd be back. Come on--time for us to go. What are you going to do, boy?
Going over to Grenfel's, aren't you?"

"Yes, father," said Harry.

"All right. Get home early. Good-night!"

A good many of the boys were already there when Dick and Harry reached
Grenfel's house. The troop--the Forty-second, of London--was a
comparatively small one, having only thre