“Yes, in Calgary, on my way down this time, the Archdeacon preached a sermon that simply sent thrills down my spine. In Winnipeg I went with the Murrays to church and heard a clergyman, McPherson, preach. The soldiers were there. Great Caesar! No wonder Winnipeg is sending out thousands of her best men. He was like an ancient Hebrew prophet, Peter the Hermit and Billy Sunday all rolled into one. Yet there was no noisy drum pounding and no silly flag flapping. Say, let me tell you something. I said there was a battalion of soldiers in church that day. The congregation were going to take Holy Communion. You know the Scotch way. They all sit in their pews and you know they are fearfully strict about their Communion, have rules and regulations and so on about it. Well, that old boy McPherson just leaned over his pulpit and told the boys what the thing stood for, that it was just like swearing in, and he told them that he would just throw the rules aside and man to man would ask them to join up with God. Say, that old chap got my goat. The boys just naturally stayed to Communion and I stayed too. I was not fit, I know, but I do not think it did me any harm.” At this point the boy's voice broke up and there was silence for some moments in the office. Larry had his face covered with his hands to hide the tears that were streaming down. Dean's father was openly wiping his eyes, Raeder looking stern and straight in front of him. “Father,” said Dean suddenly, “I want to give you warning right now. If it ever comes that Canada is in need of men, I am not going to hold back. I could not do it and stay in the country. I am an American, heart, body and soul, but I would count myself meaner than a polecat if I declined to line up with that bunch of Canadians.” “Think well, my boy,” said his father. “Think well. I have only one son, but I will never stand between you and your duty or your honour. Now we go to lunch. Where shall we go?” “With me, at the University Club, all of you,” said Raeder. “No, with me,” said Mr. Wakeham. “I will put up the fatted calf, for this my son is home again. Eh, my boy?” During the lunch hour try as they would they could not get away from the war. Dean was so completely obsessed with the subject that he could not divert his mind to anything else for any length of time. “I cannot help it,” he said at length. “All my switches run the same way.” They had almost finished when Professor Schaefer came into the dining hall, spied them and hastened over to them. “Here's this German beast,” said Dean. “Steady, Dean. We do business with him,” said his father. “All right, Father,” replied the boy. The Professor drew in a chair and sat down. He only wanted a light lunch and if they would allow him he would break in just where they were. He was full of excitement over the German successes on sea and on land. “On land?” said Raeder. “Well, I should not radiate too freely about their land successes. What about the Marne?”