They talked very little on the way back, for they were too occupied with their own gloomy thoughts. Only once Betty spoke what was in the minds of all of them. “It seems such a terrible waste! such a pity,” she said. “Just a mistake on the part of the Government to have resulted in this tragedy. Arnold and James Dempsey coming home, safe and well and hopeful to find their father! dead!” The boys stayed on for several days at the lodge, and for all the Outdoor Girls but Betty their stay was unmitigated joy. But in the heart of the Little Captain, hard as she tried to fight against it, was a little sense of injury to think that her chums had got their boys back and she had been denied hers. To be sure, all the boys made much of her and petted her! for there was not one of them who had not competed for her favor in the old days before Allen had shouldered them all out! but no amount of attention from any one else could make up for one little word from Allen. At each sunrise she awoke thrilling with the thought that perhaps Allen would be with her before the sun went down. And as each evening came without him she sighed and thought, “Perhaps to-morrow.” Since the tragic death of Professor Dempsey they felt that they need no longer fear the woods, although they never ventured near the river or the falls without a heartache and the fervent wish that they might have reached the poor demented man with the glad news of his sons’ safety in time to avert the tragedy. However, they did enjoy their liberty, and took long tramps with the boys through the woods and picnicked with them beside little unexpected brooks and streams, quite in the nature of old days. Then at last came the day when the boys announced that they would have to return to town and to the military camp to obtain their formal discharge from the army. “We may surprise you by coming back in ‘civies’ a week or two from now,” Will laughed, as the girls prepared to spin them to the railroad station in the cars. “So you had better be prepared for the shock.” “Maybe they won’t care for us any more when they see us out of uniform,” grinned Roy, as he shook hands with Mrs. Irving. “You know the old saying that a uniform has made many a hero of a bootblack.” “Goodness, I hope you aren’t a bootblack,” said Mollie from her car, where she was “doing things” with the engine. “I’m not,” answered Roy, adding with a grin: “Nothing half so honest.” Although the girls knew that they were only saying good-bye to the boys for a few days, the parting was hard just the same, and half an hour later they watched the train wind serpent-like down the shining track with a sinking feeling at their hearts. “Aren’t we a lot of geese?” said Grace impatiently, as they climbed back into the cars. “We have done without the boys for a couple of years, and now when they have just gone as far as Deepdale for a couple of weeks, we are almost crying about it.”