“Yes, stand together. Don't you forget it. We are with you in this. Deep down in the heart America is utterly sound; she knows that the cause of the Allies is the cause of justice and humanity. America has no use for either brutal tyranny or slimy treachery. The real American heart is with you now, and her fighting army will yet be at your side.” These sentiments were so unusual in his environment that Larry gazed at him in amazement. “That is God's truth,” said Raeder. “Take a vote of the college men to-day, of the big business men, of the big newspaper men--these control the thinking and the acting of America--and you will find, ninety per cent. of these pro-Ally. Just be patient and give the rest of us time. Americans will not stand for the bully,” added Raeder, putting his hand on Larry's shoulder. “You hear me, my boy. Now I am going in to see the boss. He thinks the same way, too, but he does not say much out loud.” New hope and courage came into Larry's heart as he listened to the pronouncement of this clear-headed, virile young American. Oh, if America would only say out loud what Raeder had been saying, how it would tone up the spirit of the Allies! A moral vindication of their cause from America would be worth many an army corps. The morning brought him another and unexpected breeze of cheer in the person of Dean Wakeham straight from Alberta and the Lakeside Farm. A little before lunch he walked in upon Larry, who was driving himself to his work that he might forget. It was a veritable breath from home for Larry, for Dean was one who carried not only news but atmosphere as well. He was a great, warm-hearted boy, packed with human energies of body, heart and soul. “Wait till I say good-morning to father,” he said after he had shaken hands warmly with Larry. “I will be back then in a minute or two.” But in a few minutes Mr. Wakeham appeared and called Larry to him. “Come in, boy, and hear the news,” he said. Larry went in and found Dean in the full tide of a torrential outpouring of passionate and enthusiastic, at times incoherent, tales of the Canadians, of their spirit, of their sacrifice and devotion in their hour of tragedy. “Go on, Dean,” said Raeder, who was listening with face and eyes aglow.