CHAPTER XI OFF TO CAMP DIXTON

Bob Baker did not flinch in what might be called the “face of the enemy.”

True, Helena was not exactly an enemy, though her father had helped to organize the pro-German meeting. But Helena was a girl who, in a measure, thought for herself. She did not altogether agree with the opinions held by her father and his Fatherland friends, though she had heard many stories of the achievements of the Kaiser and his chosen ones. Also she had heard, not from her father, other stories that reflected anything but glory on German arms.

And so, when Helena knew that the motor boys were about to take the train that, eventually, would land them at Camp Dixton, she decided to go to say good-bye to Bob Baker.

Naturally, she did not tell her father of her intention, and, naturally, Mr. Schaeffer was as far as possible from the station from which the recruits departed. He did not care to see such activities on the part of loyal Cresvillians in favor of Uncle Sam.

[86]

It was a violation of the constitutional rights of the young men to be placed in a position where they might have to fight on foreign soil, Mr. Schaeffer claimed. Mr. Pfeiffer had said so and he ought to know.

“Well, Helena, I am glad to see you,” remarked Bob, when he found himself near the blue-eyed girl.

“Are you?” she inquired, and her voice was not very warm.

“Of course I am!” he insisted. “It’s no end good of you to come down to see me off.”

“Well, I thought I’d come,” she said, a bit shyly. “I—I’m sorry we had that little difference of opinion. But you know—you know, I’ve always liked you, Bob.”

“I hope so, Helena.”

“But you know war is a terrible thing!”

“Are you sorry to see me go?”

“Of course I am! I’m afraid you won’t come back.” And for the first time she showed a little emotion.

“Oh, I’ll come back all right!” declared Bob, as he took her hand.

“Let go!” she exclaimed. “Some one will see us!”

“I don’t care!” declared the stout one. “I like you a lot, Helena, and I’m sorry your father——”

“Please don’t speak of him!” she begged[87] quickly. “I must do as my father says, and, though I like you, I—I—that is, he says—well, he doesn’t believe in this war!”

“I’m afraid he’ll have to come to believe in it,” said Bob. “We all will. It’s a war that’s got to be fought to a finish. I’m sorry for the peace-loving Germans, if there are any, who don’t hold with the Kaiser, but I’m against all who do! We’re in this war to win, Helena!”

The girl did not answer. She seemed struggling with some emotion. The distant whistle of a train was heard, and the recruits, some of whom formed the centers of rather tearful groups, prepared to gather up their luggage.

“Well, I guess it’s good-bye, Helena,” said Bob, while Ned and Jerry were bidding farewell to some boy and girl friends, among them Mollie Horton and Alice Vines.

“Yes, good-bye,” Helena murmured. “I’m sorry you’re going, but I suppose you know your own business best. Perhaps you will not be gone for as long as you think.”

“Oh, I guess it will be for a long time,” said Bob. “This war isn’t going to be over in a hurry. But we’ve all got to do our duty.”

“Well, it’s too bad we can’t all have the same duty,” sighed Helena. “However, I suppose that can never be. Good-bye, Bob. Write to me when you get a chance!” and before Bob knew[88] what was happening she had given him a rather sisterly kiss on his forehead and disappeared in the crowd.

“Here! Wait a minute!” called Bob, starting after her. But the train came in just then and there was so much confusion, and such a scramble to get baggage together and find places in the cars, that Bob did not get another glimpse of Helena.

A United States regular, Sergeant Mandell, was in charge of the recruits, having been detailed by Lieutenant Riker to conduct them safely to Camp Dixton.

“All aboard, boys!” he called. “All aboard!”

“All aboard she is!” echoed Jerry.

“We’re off for the camp!” said Ned.

Bob said nothing, but as soon as he got in his seat he raised the window and looked out. Helena was not in sight, and, with a sigh, the stout lad turned away.

A special car had been reserved for the boys from Cresville and vicinity, who were going away in a body, and the lads now filled the coach with gay songs and jests. To most of them it was a holiday, a picnic, but there were some who felt the gravity of the situation, and who felt that doing their duty in the matter of enlisting was not as easy as it seemed.

The three motor boys kept together, and soon[89] had stowed away their possessions and made themselves comfortable.

“Well, this is the first time we ever left Cresville under such circumstances,” observed Ned, as the train pulled out of the station amid cheers from those left behind, and a stirring air played by the band.

“Yes, we’ve gone out on many a trip, but none was just like this,” agreed Jerry. “I wish the professor could be with us, at least part of the way. He’d be interested in this bunch.”

“More likely he’d be crawling around on the floor of the car looking for a new kind of fly,” said Bob, with a chuckle.

Professor Snodgrass had gone back to Boston after his flying visit to Cresville. But he had promised to go to see them in camp, for it was evident that, on account of the war, he would not be kept very busy at Boxwood Hall.

Soon the prospective soldiers in the special car were having the best of times. They had gotten over the first wrench of parting, and were having fun. They sang and joked, and Ned, Bob and Jerry entered into the jollity of the occasion.

“Do we go right into camp?” asked one lad from Cresville.

“No, I believe we first have to stop at Yorktown and go through a detailed examination,” answered Jerry, who had been making inquiries.[90] “So far all we’ve gone through has been preliminary; and though we have enlisted, there is still a lot of red tape to go through. They’ll sift us out at Yorktown.”

“You mean separate the sheep from the goats!” laughed Ned.

“Something like that, yes,” Jerry admitted.

So they traveled on. At each stop there was a rush to get papers, if any were available, so the recruits might know the latest news in regard to the war. There were flaming headlines, but not much real news, as events were, as yet, hardly shaped. But everything went to show that Uncle Sam had at last decided to get into the war on a wholesale scale.

“When’s the next stop?” asked Bob, as the conductor came through on one of his trips.

“Oh, in about half an hour. But that isn’t Yorktown.”

“No, I know it isn’t.”

“Chunky wants to know if there’s a lunch counter there,” put in Ned, grinning.

“Oh, yes, sort of one;” and the conductor smiled.