“I shall miss you, boys,” he said. “You have certainly done your bit! Some day, when we are all back in America, I shall expect you to come and see how _real_ apples grow on a ranch in Oregon.” The boys thanked him. They could not say much. It was a great disappointment. They settled back in the car which was to take them back to General Bright. They heard the other cars glide quietly and swiftly away in the distance. They too shot out at high speed. Soberly they stared into the darkness. Their thoughts flew forward to the tiresome trip to the port of embarkation, the long ocean voyage with its deadly inaction. They had been living in confusion, danger, and uncertainty. They commenced to see before them their home, their father and mother, the familiar fellows. “We have to get Bill and Peggy,” said Beany. “Yep!” said Porky briefly. They could just _see_ their mother, with oceans of love for them and plenty for the two orphans beside. For the first time a great wave of homesickness swept over the boys. That they were to have a pleasant, safe trip would not have interested them if they could have been told of it. They were homesick. Silently they rolled on and on in the dark. Presently Beany slipped an arm around the hunched up shoulders of his twin. “Wish we were home _now_!” he said huskily. “Gosh!” said Porky. FINIS