“It must be dreadfully lonely for him in that little cabin or house or whatever you call it in the woods,” Amy said one day as she and the girls sauntered down to the dock where their motor boat was anchored. “And he said he hardly ever had company.” “Goodness, I should think he would go crazy,” Mollie commented. “Why, I go almost mad when I don’t have any one to talk to for an _hour_.” “I wonder if he lived in that little house all during the war,” said Betty thoughtfully. They had reached the dock and were walking slowly out upon it. “If he did, it must have been dreadfully hard for him. It makes me shiver to think of him sitting there all alone, reading the casualty list, terrified for fear the next name would be that of his son!!” “Oh, Betty,” cried gentle Amy, all her sympathy quickly roused by the picture Betty had drawn, “what a dreadful thing to think of!” “But he never did find their names among the missing or killed,” Mollie reminded them soberly. “We know that because he said he expected to see them soon.” “Of course, And all we can do is hope with all our hearts that he gets his wish,” said Betty brightly, adding with a sudden change of subject: “But away with dull care. The sun is shining and here’s our fairy ship waiting to carry us off to fresh adventure. What more could any one want, I’d like to know.” “Humph,” grunted Mollie, eyeing critically the trim little boat in which they had had so much fun and adventure, as the other girls tumbled aboard. “I’d say she didn’t look very much like a fairy boat just now. She needs considerable polishing and scrubbing. Why don’t you girls get busy, anyhow?” “Just hear who’s talking,” yawned Grace, disposing herself lazily in a comfortable chair on deck. “I haven’t noticed you waving a broom and mop frantically around these parts lately, Mollie dear.” “In fact,” Betty added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “I think I remember suggesting that the _Gem_ needed grooming the other day. Whereupon some one who shall be nameless suggested a motor ride instead.” “She’s got you there, old dear,” drawled Grace, taking the inevitable box of chocolates from her pocket and opening it lovingly. “I remember the incident pre-zactly as it has been described.” Mollie, who was still standing on the dock, regarding them frowningly, started to reply but Betty interrupted her with a shout. She had started the engine and the boat began to move slowly away from the dock. “Better hurry up,” suggested the Little Captain wickedly. “We’d rather not leave you behind, but if you insist.