seemed to be Mrs.
Anderson's conviction that Jim had been shot, or injured by accident in
gun-training, or at least by a horse. Lenore did not share her mother's
idea and was reluctant to dispel it. On the evening of the fifth day
after Mr. Anderson's departure a message came, saying that he had
arrived too late to see Jim alive. Mrs. Anderson bore the news bravely,
though she weakened perceptibly.

The family waited then for further news. None came. Day after day
passed. Then one evening, while Lenore strolled in the gloaming,
Kathleen came running to burst out with the announcement of their
father's arrival. He had telephoned from Vale for a car to meet him.

Not long after that, Lenore, who had gone to her room, heard the return
of the car and recognized her father's voice. She ran down in time to
see him being embraced by the girls, and her mother leaning with bowed
head on his shoulder.

"Yes, I fetched Jim--back," he said, steadily, but very low. "It's all
arranged.... An' we'll bury him to-morrow."

"Oh--dad!" cried Lenore.

"Hello, my girl!" he replied, and kissed her. "I'm sorry to tell you I
couldn't locate Kurt Dorn.... That New York--an' that trainin' camp!"

He held up his hands in utter futility of expression. Lenore's quick
eyes noted his face had grown thin and haggard, and she made sure with a
pang that his hair was whiter.

"I'm sure glad to be home," he said, with a heavy expulsion of breath.
"I want to clean up an' have a bite to eat."

* * * * *

Lenore was so disappointed at failing to hear from Dorn that she did not
think how singular it was her father did not tell more about Jim. Later
he seemed more like himself, and told them simply that Jim had
contracted pneumonia and died without any message for his folk at home.
This prostrated Mrs. Anderson again.

Later Lenore sought her father in his room. He could not conceal from
her that he had something heartrending on his mind. Then there was more
than tragedy in his expression. Lenore felt a leap of fear at what
seemed her father's hidden anger. She appealed to him--importuned him.
Plainer it came to her that he wanted to relieve himself of a burden.
Then doubling her persuasions, she finally got him to talk.

"Lenore, it's not been so long ago that right here in this room Jim
begged me to let him enlist. He wasn't of age. But would I let him
go--to fight for the honor of our country--for the future safe