Mailsburg’s first quota of drafted men marched past the factory one day to the railway station. The streets were lined with silent people for the most part. But the buildings were cheerful with bunting and flags. It was Ethel who insisted that the factory front be decorated in addition to the great silk flag which Barton had raised first with his own hands and which John raised each morning and took in at night. Mayberry grudgingly shut down the shops for an hour that the hands might cheer more than a hundred of the drafted men who had left the Hapwood-Diller Company to don the army khaki. Service flags began to appear all over the town after that. Mrs. Trevor, Barton’s former landlady, hung out one with a single star on it, and Ethel was told that the grim old woman kept Barton’s chair at the table for him and allowed nobody to sit in it. Almost every day something happened to remind Ethel that the war was coming closer and closer to her. Her mother was knitting for the Red Cross. She did not say much about this work save to mention with a sniff that she hoped she could turn out as good work as those snips of girls she saw knitting in the cars and on the park benches. “And I expect to see them take those awful looking knitting bags to church with them one of these days,” was likewise Mrs. Clayton’s tart comment. One day Ethel saw Morry Copley in town. It was while she was out to lunch and, without seeing her, he bustled past so importantly that she could not escape the thought that there must be something afoot--perhaps some assignment of troops or officers that affected Frank Barton as well. Morry wore the insignia of a second-lieutenant. She hurried back to the office with the expectation of seeing Barton. Surely he would not come to town without looking in upon them! But the afternoon dragged by without his appearance. She said nothing to her office mates regarding her expectations. Each time the door opened she started and looked up, expecting to see him--tall and handsome in his khaki--enter the office. It made her nervous. There were mistakes in her work that put her back so she had to remain after hours again. When Benway wanted to help her she snapped at him and sent that surprised young man home “with a flea in his ear.” Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Barton had been cooling his heels in the Fullers’ reception hall. He had sent up his card to Helen and the maid had come down to say that the young lady was very busy. Would Monsieur wait? Monsieur would--most assuredly he would! He had not seen or heard from Miss Fuller since the Sunday on which both she and Ethel Clayton had chanced to come to Camp Quehasset. And now, save for a conference with Mr. Hammerly, he had sacrificed most of his time in Mailsburg to speak confidentially to Grandon Fuller’s daughter.