“We who cannot go and fight for dear America--for the high mountains and the broad rivers and the cheerful towns, and the big, strong, generous people whom we love as our own heart’s blood--we’ll do our part here with a rush and a good-will like an irresistible flood; we’ll buy this Liberty Loan with a surplus over, that will be like a great shout to Germany that America will take care of her own--that America is going to win!” The thrilling young voice stopped, and for a second there was silence, and then the audience burst into a storm of clapping and applause, and with that they broke ranks and began crowding about the men who had come in the car with the two Mannerings, the workers. “I want a bond--I want two--I’ve got to stick in a bond to build that wall,” the men were saying over each other’s shoulders. Eric, flushed, happy, watched them and shook hands with them, and introduced them to his little sister, and both enjoyed every moment of the scene with the hot, happy, pulsing blood which real living brings. “Honor, you never sang like that before,” the boy said, and Honor laughed. “You don’t know yet what your tame prima donna can do,” she answered easily. “Do you want to go with me to-morrow?” Eric asked. Day after day Eric spoke, working far into the nights to make time for this work which he offered to his country instead of the body which he might not offer. And it came to be that on most days Mr. Barron’s secretary went with him, Mr. Barron sending her gladly for the cause, to sing patriotic songs. The two were soon a feature of the Liberty Loan campaign, and booked for all their time. Meetings at great factories, meetings in large schools, meetings in country towns where farmers must be aroused to the importance of their savings for Uncle Sam’s safety--many sorts of meetings heard Eric speak and Honor sing, and always the two were a success. Always there was, in their wake, an uncommon sale of Liberty Bonds. So it happened that on a Saturday the committee sent Eric to speak at the Lynden Knitting Mill. The girl drove with her brother and the three other men, the “workers,” across the city and down into the manufacturing district, and the car slid to a stop before a large square brick building. They went up steps and into a hall-way, and wound through ten-foot piles of boxes to a glassed-in office, where were the “boss” and other unexplained officials, and a girl stenographer or two, lifting their heads to regard this other girl, who sang. She was beginning to be known for her singing, her work with her brother; the papers spoke of her when they reported Eric’s speeches.