“Or the worst--yes. I think Bob will do just that. He was wobbling the least bit, but I think he’s on his feet now. We’ll wait for him to come back.” Meanwhile Bob Baker was having his own troubles. He had made the acquaintance of Miss Schaeffer some time before, when it seemed there would be never a question as to what nationality a person claimed. But the war had made a difference. As Ned had stated, Mr. Schaeffer was one of the owners of a rabid German paper, published in Boston, and the editorial policy was against anything French or English, and against the United States helping the Allies in any way. When the United States formally entered the war the sheet did not dare come out and openly espouse the cause of Germany, but in underhand ways and by sly insinuations it sought to deprecate the cause of the Allies and tried to say, only too plainly, that the United States had no business entering the war, and that the youth of the land would do well to keep out of it. In other words it discouraged enlisting. Just what took place between Chunky and Helena, Bob never disclosed in detail. Ned and Jerry felt it would be indelicate to do that, and they never asked much about the matter. Poor Bob put in a bad quarter of an hour, and when he left the Schaeffer home his step was not as buoyant as when he entered. But there was a look of determination on his face, and he seemed relieved, as though he had got rid of a weight. “Well?” asked Jerry, as Bob joined his two chums a little later. “How about you?” “I’m ready to go and sign up whenever you are,” was the quiet answer. “Good!” exclaimed Ned, clapping Chunky on the back with such right good will that the stout lad almost lost his balance. “I told you how it would be,” whispered Ned to Jerry, and the latter nodded comprehendingly. “Have any trouble?” asked Ned. “I mean did she break with you?” “Oh, not exactly,” answered Bob. “But things are not as pleasant as they were. It’s her father, though, not Helena.” “That’s what we thought,” said Jerry. “Well, I’m glad it’s over. Now we’ll be three together once more. Too bad it had to happen, Chunky, but it’s better to come out and know where you stand.” “That’s right,” agreed the stout lad. “I’m going to do my duty. Friendship doesn’t count in this war. It’s duty.” “You said something!” commented Ned. “And now to take the step that will put us in the fight formally for Uncle Sam and against the Kaiser. We’ll go and volunteer!” “That’s what I’ve been wanting to do right along,” declared Chunky; “but I didn’t want to break with Helena if I could help it. She says she doesn’t see why I have to enlist, why I can’t wait for the draft, and all that. She says maybe there won’t be any draft if there’s enough opposition to it. But I’m going to volunteer.” So the three boys started for Richfield, where the nearest enlistment station was located.