erwise
would never have gotten to her ears, found listening irresistible. Slow,
dragging footsteps and the clinking of spurs attested to the approach of
cowboys.

"Howdy, boys! Sit down an' be partic'lar quiet. Here's some smokes. I'm
wound up an' gotta go off or bust," Anderson said, "Well, as I was
sayin', we folks don't know there's a war, from all outward sign here in
the Northwest. But in that New York town I just come from--God Almighty!
what goin's-on! Boys, I never knew before how grand it was to be
American. New York's got the people, the money, an' it's the outgoin'
an' incomin' place of all pertainin' to this war. The Liberty Loan drive
was on. The streets were crowded. Bands an' parades, grand-opera stars
singin' on the corners, famous actors sellin' bonds, flags an' ribbons
an' banners everywhere, an' every third man you bumped into wearin' some
kind of uniform! An' the women were runnin' wild, like a stampede of
two-year-olds.... I rode down Fifth Avenue on one of them high-topped
buses with seats on. Talk about your old stage-coach--why, these 'buses
had 'em beat a mile! I've rode some in my day, but this was the ride of
my life. I couldn't hear myself think. Music at full blast, roar of
traffic, voices like whisperin' without end, flash of red an' white an'
blue, shine of a thousand automobiles down that wonderful street that's
like a canon! An' up overhead a huge cigar-shaped balloon, an' then an
airplane sailin' swift an' buzzin' like a bee. Them was the first
air-ships I ever seen. No wonder--Jim wanted to--"

Anderson's voice broke a little at this juncture and he paused. All was
still except the murmur of the running water and the song of the
insects. Presently Anderson cleared his throat and resumed:

"I saw five hundred Australian soldiers just arrived in New York by
way of Panama. Lean, wiry boys like Arizona cowboys. Looked good to
me! You ought to have heard the cheerin'. Roar an' roar, everywhere
they marched along. I saw United States sailors, marines, soldiers,
airmen, English officers, an' Scotch soldiers. Them last sure got my
eye. Funny plaid skirts they wore--an' they had bare legs. Three I
saw walked lame. An' all had medals. Some one said the Germans
called these Scotch 'Ladies from hell.' ... When I heard that I had
to ask questions, an' I learned these queer-lookin'
half-women-dressed fellows were simply hell with cold steel. An'
after I