As we marched into camp David was uneasy, and acknowledged frankly that he was afraid his mother would be there to take him home in the motor. But the familiar strawberry limousine was nowhere to be seen, and as we swung into the company street we saw not David's mother, but his father in his ancient Panama and his wrinkled business suit. The boy shouted his delight, and when we broke ranks he dragged his father to the tent and introduced him to as many of us as he could pin down for a moment. And a little later, catching both Knudsen and me, he kept us in the tent while he reminded his father of a promise. "You know, father, you said you'd give me any kind of an automobile I wanted, if I stayed through the hike." Mr. Farnham had been deeply pleased, you could see it in his face, that David had grown so manly. Consequently he was the more disappointed at this prompt practical demand. But though a shade crossed his face, he answered kindly, "You've earned it, David." David put a hand on my arm, and on his other side drew Knudsen a little closer to him, as if for support. "Then, father, I want a Ford!" "A Ford?" cried his father. A Ford! thought I--a four hundred dollar car when he might spend his thousands? "Yes," said David, a little unsteadily. "I want to learn to take one apart and put it together, and then I want you to send another Ford ambulance to France, with me to drive it." A glorious smile broke over the father's face, of pride, and fondness, yet also of possible sacrifice of this son who was now first showing his manhood--for there is danger in that ambulance service. I saw the story was true that Mr. Farnham has been sending ambulances abroad; and saw also that David had been afraid of his father's opposition to a scheme which he had been hatching in secret. So he had felt the need of my support and Knudsen's. But the father held out both hands to his boy, and Knudsen and I slipped quietly out of the tent and walked together, without saying a word, down to the edge of the drill-field. Said Knudsen then: "Since it's settled now, that silly mother can't interfere." I was feeling pleased that though at first I had studiously neglected David, he had needed me now. Knudsen's mind travelled much the same road. "A good investment," he said, "the trouble we've put into that youngster." I had a little talk with Mr. Farnham before the train went. He was overflowing with happiness. David had somehow got the idea of service, and unknown to us had been planning his life by it. First to help in this emergency in France, then to find some way in which a rich man could give his time to his country, in some branch of public service. It was fixed in his mind that next summer he must be at Plattsburg again, working for a commission in the reserve. Beyond that he would need his father's advice and help. "So there's something more in life for me now," said the father, "than the mere making of money."