 CHAPTER 7 He had passed the quarters of the signal core before the thought of the letter he had just written came to his mind. Then he stopped short, gave one agonizing glance toward his barracks only a few feet away, realized that it was nearly time for bed-call, and that he could not pause. Then he stopped short, gave one agonizing glance toward his barracks only a few feet away, realized that it was nearly time for bed-call, and that he could not possibly make it if he went back, then whirled about and started out on a wild run like a madman over the ground he had just traveled. He was not conscious of carrying on a train of thought as he ran. His only idea was to get to the YMCA hut before the man had left with a letter. Never should his childhood's enemy have that letter to sneer over. All the pleasant phrases which had flowed from his pen so easily but a few moments before seemed to flare now in letters of fire before his blood shot eyes as he bounded over the ground. To think he should have lowered himself and weakened his position so as to write to the girl who was soon to be the wife of that contemptible puppy. The bugles began to sound taps here and there in the barracks as he flew past but they meant nothing to him. Breathless he arrived at the YMCA hut just as the last light was being put out. A dark figure stood on the steps as he halted entirely winded and tried to gasp out. Where is Mr. Hathaway? To the assistant who was locking up. Oh, he left five minutes after you did, said the man with a yawn. The rector came by in his car and took him along. Say, you'll be late getting in corporal. Taps sounded almost five minutes ago. With a low exclamation of disgust and dismay Cameron turned and started back again in a long swinging stride. His face blushing hotly in the dark over his double predicament. He had gone back for nothing and got himself subject to a calling down, a thing which he had avoided scrupulously since coming to camp. But he was so miserable over the other matter that it seemed a thing of no moment to him now. He was altogether occupied with metaphorically kicking himself for having answered that letter, for having mailed it so soon without ever stopping to read it over or give himself a chance to reconsider. He might have known, he might have remembered that Ruth MacDonald was no comrade for him, that she was a neighbor of the Wainwrights and in all probability be a friend of the lieutenants. Not for all that he owned in the world or hoped to own would he have thus laid himself open to the possibility of having Wainwright know any of his inner thoughts. He would rather have lived and died unknown, unfriended, than that this should come to pass. And she, the promised wife of a Wainwright, could it be, she must have written him that letter merely from a fine friendly patronage. All right, of course, from her standpoint, but from his, gall and wormwood to his proud spirit. Oh, that he had not answered it, he might have known, he should have remembered that she had never been in his class. Not that his people were not as good as hers, and maybe better, so far as intellectual attainments were concerned. But his had lost their money, had lived a quiet life, and in her eyes and in the eyes of her family were very likely as the mere dust of the earth. And now, just now, when war had set its seal of sacrifice upon all young men in uniform, he as a soldier had risen to a kind of deified class set apart for hero worship, nothing more. It was not her fault that she had been brought up that way, and that he seemed so to her and nothing more. She had shown her beautiful spirit in giving him the tribute that seemed worthiest to her view. He would not blame her, nor despise her, but he would hold himself aloof, as he had done in the past, and show her that he wanted no favors, no patronage. He was sufficient to himself. What called him most was to think that perhaps in the intimacy of their engagement, she might show his letter to Wayne Wright, and they would laugh together over him, a poor soldier, presuming to write as he had done to a girl in her station. They would laugh together, half pitifully, at least the woman would be pitiful, the man was likely to sneer. He could see his hateful moustache curl now with scorn, and his little eyes twinkle, and he would tell her all the lies he had tried to put upon him in the past. He would give her a wrong idea of his character. He would rejoice and triumph to do so. Oh, the bitterness of it! It overwhelmed him, so that the little matter of getting into his bunk without being seen by the officer in charge was utterly overlooked by him. Perhaps some good angel arranged the way for him so that he was able to slip past the guards without being challenged. Two of the guards were talking at the corner of the barracks with their backs to him at the particular second when he came in sight. A minute later they turned back to their monotonous march, and the shadow of the vanishing corporal had just disappeared from among the other dark shadows of the night landscape. Inside the barracks another guard welcomed him eagerly without questioning his presence there at that hour. Say, Cam, how about day after tomorrow? Are you free? Will you take my place on guard? I want to go up to Philadelphia and see my girl, and I'm sure of a pass, but I'm listed for guard duty. I'll do the same for you sometime. Sure, said Cameron hardily, and swung upstairs with a sudden realization that he had been granted a streak of good luck, yet somehow he did not seem to care much. He tiptoed over to his bunk among the rows of sleeping forms, removed from it a pair of shoes, three books, some newspapers and a mess kit which some lazy comrades had left there, and threw himself down with scant underdressing. It seemed as though a great calamity had befallen him, although when he tried to reason it out, he could not understand how things were so much changed from what they had been that morning before he received the letter. Ruth MacDonald had never been anything in his life but a lovely picture. There was no slightest possibility that she would ever be more. She was like a distant star to be admired but never come near. Had he been fool enough to have his head turned by her writing that kind of letter to him? Had he even remotely fancied she would ever be anything nearer to him than just a formal friend, who occasionally stooped to give a bright smile or do a kindness? Well, if he had, he needed this knockdown blow. It might be a good thing that it came so soon, before he had let this thing grow in his imagination. But oh, if it had come but a bit sooner. If it had only been on the way over to the YMCA hut, instead of on the way back, that letter would never have been written, she would have set him down as a bore perhaps, but what matter? What was she to him, or he to her? Well, perhaps he would have written a letter briefly to thank her for her offering of knitting, but it would have been an entirely different letter from the one he did write. He ground his teeth as he thought out the letter he should have written. My dear Miss McDonald. No friend about that. He wrote that letter over and over mentally as he tossed on his bunk in the dark, changing phrases and whole sentences. Perhaps it would be better to say something about her officer friends, and make it very clear to her that he understood his feelings. Then suddenly he kicked the big blue blanket off and sat up with a deep sigh. What a fool he was, he would not write another letter. The letter was gone, and as it was written he must abide by it. He could not get it back or unwrite it much as he wished it. There was no excuse or way to make it possible to write and refuse those sweaters and things was there. He sat staring into the darkness while the man in the next bunk roused to toss back his blanket which had fallen superfluously across his face and to mutter some sleepy implications. But Cameron was off on the composition of another letter. My dear Miss McDonald, I have been thinking it over and have decided that I do not need a sweater or any of those other things you mention. I really am pretty well supplied with necessities, and you know they don't give us much room to put anything around the barracks. There must be a lot of other fellows who need them more, so I will decline that you may give your work to others who have nothing or to those who are your personal friends. Very truly, J. Cameron. Having convinced his turbulent brain that it was quite possible for him to write such a letter as this, he flung himself miserably back on his hard cot and realized that he did not want to write it. That it would be almost an insult to the girl, who even if she had been patronizing him, had done it with a kind intent, and after all it was not her fault that he was a fool. She had a right to marry whom she would, certainly he never expected her to marry him. Only he had to own to himself that he wanted those things she had offered, he wanted to touch something she had worked upon, and feel that it belonged to him. He wanted to keep this much of human friendship for himself, even if she was going to marry another man. She had always been his ideal of a beautiful, lovable woman, and as such she should stay his, even if she married a dozen enemy officers. It was then that he began to see that the thing that was really making him miserable was that she was giving her sweet young life to such a rotten little mean-natured man as Wainwright. That was the real pain. If some fine noble man like, well, like Captain LaRue, only younger of course, should come along he would be glad for her. But this excuse for a man. Oh, it was outrageous. How could she be so deceived? And yet, of course, women knew very little of men. They had no standards by which to judge them. They had no opportunity to see them except in plain sight of those they wished to please. One would not expect them to have discernment in selecting their friends. But what a pity. Things were all wrong. There ought to be some way to educate a woman so that she would realize the dangers all about her and be somewhat protected. It was worse for Ruth MacDonald because she had no men in her family who could protect her. Her old grandfather was the only near-living male relative, and he was a hopeless invalid, almost entirely confined to the house. What could he know of the young men who came to court his granddaughter? What did he remember of the ways of men, having been so many years shut away from their haunts? The corporal tossed on his hard cot and sighed like a furnace. There ought to be someone to protect her. Someone ought to make her understand what kind of a fellow Wainwright was. She had called him her knight, and a knight's business was to protect. Yet what could he do? He could not go to her and tell her that the man she was going to marry was rotten and utterly without moral principle. He could not even send someone else to warn her. Who could he send? His mother. No, his mother would feel shy and afraid of a girl like that. She had always lived a quiet life. He doubted if she would understand herself how utterly unfit a mate Wainwright was for a good, pure girl. And there was no one else in the world that he could send. Besides, if she loved the man, and incomprehensible as it seemed, she must love him or why should she marry him? If she loved him, she would not believe an angel from heaven against him. Women were that way, that is, if they were good women like Ruth. Oh, to think of her tied up to that, beast, he could think of no other word. In his agony he rolled on his face and groaned aloud. Oh, God, his soul cried out. Why does such things have to be? If there really is a God, why does he let such awful things happen to a pure good girl, the same old bitter question that had troubled the hard young days of his own life? Could there be a God who cared when bitterness was in so many cups? Why had God let the war come? Some time in the night the tumult in his brain and heart subsided, and he fell into a profound sleep. The next thing he knew the kindly roughness of his comrades wakened him with shakes and wet sponges flying through the air, and he opened his consciousness to the world again and heard the bugle blowing for roll call. Another day had dawned grayly, and he must get up. They set him on his feet and bantered him into action, and he responded with his usual wit that put them all in house of laughter. But as he stumbled into place in the line in the five o'clock donning, he realized that a heavy weight was on his heart which he tried to throw off. What did it matter what Ruth McDonald did with her life? She was nothing to him, never had been and never could be. If only he had not written that letter, all would now be as it always had been. If only she had not written her letter. Or no, he put his hand to his breast pocket with a quick movement of protection. Somehow he was not yet ready to relinquish that one taste of bright girl-friendliness even though it had brought a stab in its wake. He was glad when the orders came for him and five other fellows to tramp across the camp to the gas school and go through two solid hours of instruction, ending with a practical illustration of the gas mask and a good dose of gas. It helped him to put his mind on the great business of war, which was to be his only business now until it or he were ended. He set his lips grimly and went about his work vigorously. What did it matter anyway what she thought of him? He need never answer another letter, even if she wrote. He need not accept the package from the post office. He could let them send it back. Refuse it and let them send it back. That was what he could do. Then she might think what she liked. Perhaps she would suppose him already gone to France. Anyhow he would forget her. It was the only sensible thing to do. Meanwhile the letter had flown on its way with more than ordinary swiftness as if it had known that a force was seeking to bring it back again. The YMCA man was carried at high speed in an automobile to the nearest station to the camp and arrived in time to catch the Baltimore train just stopping. In the Baltimore station he went to mail the letter just as the letter-gatherer arrived with his keys to open the box so the letter lost no time but was sorted and started northward before midnight and by some happy chance arrived at its destination in time to be laid by Ruth McDonald's plate at lunchtime the next day. Some quick sense must have warned Ruth for she gathered her mail up and slipped it unobtrusively into the pocket of her skirt before it could be noticed. Dottie Wetherill had come home with her for lunch and the bright red YMCA triangle on the envelope was so conspicuous. Dottie was crazy over soldiers and all things military. She would be sure to exclaim and ask questions. She was one of those people who always found out everything about you that you did not keep under absolute lock and key. Every day since she had written her letter to Cameron, Ruth had watched for an answer, her cheeks glowing sometimes with the least bit of mortification that she should have written at all to have received his rebuff. Had he after all misunderstood her or had the letter gone astray or the man gone to the front, she had almost given up expecting an answer now after so many weeks and the nice warm olive drab sweater and neatly knitted socks with extra long legs and bright lines of color at the top. With the wristlets and muffler lay wrapped in tissue paper at the very bottom of a drawer in the chiffoniere where she would seldom see it and where no one else would ever find it and question her. Probably by and by when the colored draftees were sent away she would get them out and carry them down to the headquarters to be given to some needy man. She felt humiliated and was beginning to tell herself that it was all her own fault and a good lesson for her. She had even decided not to go and see John Cameron's mother again lest that too might be misunderstood. It seemed that the frank true instincts of her own heart had been wrong and she was getting what she justly deserved from departing from Aunt Rhoda's strictly conventional code. Nevertheless, the letter in her pocket which she had not been able to look at carefully enough to be sure if she knew the writing crackled and rustled and set her heart beating excitedly and her mind to wondering what it might be, she answered Dottie Weatherall's chatter with distraught monosyllables and absent smiles hoping that Dottie would feel it necessary to go home soon after lunch. But it presently became plain that Dottie had no intention of going home soon, that she had come for a purpose and that she was plying all her arts to accomplish it. Ruth presently roused from her reverie to realize this and set herself to give Dottie as little satisfaction as possible out of her task. It was evident that she had been sent to discover the exact standing and relation in which Ruth held Lieutenant Harry Wainwright. Ruth strongly suspected that Dottie's brother Bob had been the instigator of the mission and she had no intention of giving him the information. So Ruth's smile came out and the inscrutable twinkle grew in her lovely eyes. Dottie chattered on sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, theme after theme, always rounding up at the end with some perfectly obvious leading question. Ruth answered in all apparent innocence and sincerity, yet with an utterly different turn of the conversation from what had been expected and with an indifference that was hopelessly baffling unless the young ambassador asked a point blank question, which she hardly dared to do of Ruth MacDonald without more encouragement. And so at last a long two hours dragged thus away and finally Dottie weathered at the end of her small string and at a loss for more themes on which to trot around again to the main idea. Reluctantly accepted her defeat and took herself away, leaving Ruth to her long delayed letter. CHAPTER VIII Ruth sat, looking into space with starry eyes and glowing cheeks after she had read the letter. It seemed to her a wonderful letter, quite the most wonderful she had ever received. Perhaps it was because it fitted so perfectly with her ideal of the writer, who from her little girlhood had always been a picture of what a hero must be. She used to dream big things about him when she was a child. He had been the best baseball player in school when he was ten and the handsomest little rowdy in town as well as the boldest, bravest champion of the little girls. As she grew older and met him occasionally, she had always been glad that he kept his old hero look, though often appearing in rough garb. She had known they were poor. There had been some story about a loss of money and a long expensive sickness of the fathers following an accident which made all the circumstances most trying, but she had never heard the details. She only knew that most of the girls in her set looked on him as a nobody and would no more have accompanied with him than with their fathers chauffeur. After he grew older and began to go to college, some of the girls began to think he was good looking and to say it was quite commendable in him to try to get an education. Some had even unearthed the fact that his had been a fine old family in former days and that there had been wealth and servants once, but the story died down as John Cameron walked his quiet way apart, keeping to his old friends and not responding to the feeble advances of the girls. Ruth had been away at school in these days and had seldom seen him. When she had, there had always been that lingering admiration for him from the old days. She had told herself that of course he could not be worth much or people would know him. He was probably ignorant and uncultured and a closer acquaintance would show him far from what her young ideas had pictured her hero. But somehow that day at the station, the look in his face had revealed fine feeling and she was glad now to have her intuition concerning him verified by his letter. And what a letter it was! Why, no young man of her acquaintance could have written with such poetic delicacy. That paragraph about the rose was beautiful and not a bit too presuming either in one who had been a perfect stranger all these years. She liked his simple frankness and the easy way he went back twelve years and began just where they left off. There was none of the bold forwardness that might have been expected in one who had not moved in cultured society. There was no unpleasant assumption of familiarity which might have emphasized her fear that she had overstepped the bounds of convention in writing to him in the first place. On the contrary her humiliation at his long delayed answer was all forgotten now. He had understood her perfectly and accepted her letter in exactly the way she had meant it without the least bit of foolishness or unpleasantness. In short he had written the sort of a letter that the kind of man she had always thought hoped he was would be likely to write and it gave her a surprisingly pleasant feeling of satisfaction. It was as if she had discovered a friend all of her own not made for her by her family nor one to whom she fell heir because of her wealth and position but just one she had found out in the great world of souls. If he had been going to remain at home there might have been a number of questions social and conventional which would have arisen to bar the way to this free feeling of a friendship and which she would have had to meet and reason with before her mind would have shaken itself unhampered. But because he was going away and on such an errand perhaps never to return the matter of what her friends might think or what the world would say simply did not enter into the question at all. The war had lifted them both above such ephemeral barriers into the place of vision where a soul was a soul no matter what he possessed or who he was. So as she sat in her big white room with all its dainty accessories to a luxurious life fit setting for a girl so lovely she smiled unhindered at this bit of beautiful friendship that had suddenly drifted down at her feet out of a great outside unknown world. She touched the letter thoughtfully with caressing fingers and the kind of a high look in her eyes that a lady of old must have worn when she thought of her night. It came to her to wonder that she had not felt so about any other of her men friends who had gone into the service. Why should this special one soldier boy represent the whole war as it were in this way to her? However it was but a passing thought and with a smile upon her lips she went to the drawer and brought out the finely knitted garments she had made wrapping them up with care and sending them at once upon their way. It somehow gave her pleasure to set aside a small engagement she had for that afternoon until she had posted the package herself. Even then when she took her belated way to a little gathering in honor of one of her girlfriends who was going to be married the next week to a young aviator. She kept the smile on her lips and the dreamy look in her eyes and now and then brought herself back from the chatter around her to remember that something pleasant had happened. Not that there was any foolishness in her thoughts there was too much dignity and simplicity about the girl young as she was to allow her to deal even with her own thoughts in any but a maidenly way and it was not in the ordinary way of a maid with a man that she thought of this young soldier. He was so far removed from her life in every way and all the well-drilled formalities that it never occurred to her to think of him in the same way she thought of her other men friends. A friend who understood her and whom she could understand that was what she had always wanted and what she had never quite had with any of her young associates. One or two had approached to that but always there had been a point at which they had fallen short that she should make this man her friend whose letter crackled in her pocket in that intimate sense of the word did not occur to her even now. He was somehow set apart for service in her mind and as such she had chosen him to be her special knight. She to be the lady to whom he might look for encouragement whose honor he was going forth to defend. It was a misty dreamy ideal of a thought. Somehow she would not have picked out any other of her boyfriends to be a knight for her. They were too flippant, too careless and light-hearted. The very way in which they lighted their multitudinous cigarettes and flipped the match away gave the impression that they were going to have the time of their lives in this war. They might have patriotism down at the bottom of all this froth and boasting, doubtless they had, but there was so little seriousness about them that one would never think of them as knights, defenders of some great cause of righteousness. Perhaps it was only her old baby fancy for the little boys who could always lick the other boys and save the girls from trouble that prejudiced her in his favor, but at least it was pleasant and a great relief to know that her impulsive letter had not been misunderstood. The girls prattled of this one and that one who were going over soon, told of engagements and marriages soon to occur, criticized the brides and grooms to be, declaring their undying opinions about what was fitting for a war bride to wear and whether they would like to marry a man who had to go right into war and might return minus an arm or an eye. They discoursed about the U-boats with a frothy cheerfulness that made Ruth shudder and in the same breath told what nice eyes a young captain had who had recently visited the town and what perfectly lovely uniforms he wore. They argued with serious zeal whether a girl should wear an olive drab suit this year if she wanted to look really smart. They were the girls among whom she had been brought up, and Ruth was used to their froth, but somehow today it bored her beyond expression. She was glad to make an excuse to get away, and she drove her little car around by the way of John Cameron's home, hoping perhaps to get a glimpse of his mother again. But the house had a shut-up look behind the vine that he had trained as if it were lonely and lying back in a long wait till he should come, or not come. A pang went through her heart, for the first time she thought what it meant for a young life like that to be silenced by cold steel. The home empty, the mother alone, his ambitions and hopes unfulfilled. It came to her too that if he were her knight he might have to die for her, for his cause. She shuddered and swept the unpleasant thought away, but it had left its mark and would return again. On the way back she passed a number of young soldiers home on 24-hour leave from the nearby camps. They saluted her most eagerly, and she knew that any one of them would have gladly occupied the vacant seat in her car, but she was not in the mood to talk with them. She felt that there was something to be thought out and fixed in her mind. Some impression that life had for her that afternoon, that she did not want to lose in the mild fritter of gay banter, that would be sure to follow if she stopped and took home some of the boys. So she bowed graciously and swept by at a high speed as if in a great hurry. The war, the war. It was beating itself into her brain again in much the same way it had done on that morning when the draft men went away. Only now it had taken on a more personal touch. She kept seeing the lonely vine clad house where that one soldier had lived and which he had left so desolate. She kept thinking how many such homes and mothers there must be in the land. That evening when she was free to go to her room, she read John Cameron's letter again. And then, feeling almost as if she were childish in her haste, she sat down and wrote an answer. Somehow that second reading made her feel his wish for an answer. It seemed a mute appeal that she could not resist. When John Cameron received that letter and the accompanying package, he was lifted into the seventh heaven for a little while. He forgot all his misgivings. He even forgot Lieutenant Wainwright, who had but that day become a most formidable foe, having been transferred to Cameron's company where he was liable to be commanding officer in absence of the captain and where frequent salutes would be inevitable. It had been a terrible blow to Cameron, but now it suddenly seemed a small matter. He put on his new sweater and swelled around the way the other boys did, letting them all admire him. He examined the wonderful socks almost reverently, putting a large curious finger gently on the red and blue stripes and thrilling with the thought that her fingers had bled the needles in those many, many stitches to make them. He almost felt it would be sacrilege to wear them, and he laid them away most carefully and locked them in the box under his bed, lest some other fellow should admire and desire them to his loss. But with the letter he walked away into the woods as far as the bounds of the camp would allow and read and re-read it, rising at last from it as one refreshed from a comforting meal after long fasting. It was on the way back to his barracks that night, walking slowly under the starlight, not desiring to be back until the last minute before night taps, because he did not wish to break the wonderful evening he had spent with her, that he resolved to try to leave the next Saturday and go home to thank her. Back in the barracks with the others, he fairly scintillated with wit and kept his comrades in roars of laughter until the officer of the night suppressed them summarily. But long after the others were asleep, he lay thinking of her and listening to the singing of his soul as he watched a star that twinkled with a friendly gleam through a crack in the roof above his cot. Once again there came the thought of God and a feeling of gratitude for this lovely friendship in his life. If he knew where God was he would like to thank him. Lying so and looking up to the star, he breathed from his heart a wordless thanksgiving. The next night he wrote and told her he was coming, and asked permission to call and thank her face to face. Then he fairly haunted the post office at mail time the rest of the week, hoping for an answer. He had not written his mother about his coming, for he meant not to go this week if there came no word from Ruth. Besides, it would be nice to surprise his mother. Then there was some doubt about his getting a pass anyway, and so between the two anxieties, he was kept busy up to the last minute. But Friday evening he got his pass, and in the last mail came a special delivery from Ruth. Just a brief note saying she had been away from home when his letter arrived, but she would be delighted to see him on Sunday afternoon as he had suggested. He felt like a boy let loose from school as he brushed up his uniform and polished his big army shoes while his less fortunate companions kitted him about the girl he was going to see. He denied their thrusts joyously, in his heart repudiating any such personalities, yet somehow it was pleasant. He had never realized how pleasant it would be to have a girl and be going to see her. Such a girl. Of course, she was not for him, not with that possessiveness, but she was a friend, a real friend, and he would not let anything spoil the pleasure of that. He had not thought anything in his army experience could be so exciting as that first ride back home again. Somehow the deference paid to his uniform got into his blood and made him feel that people all along the line really did care for what the boys were doing for them. It made camp life and hardships seem less dreary. It was great to get back to his little mother and put his big arms around her again. She seemed so small. Had she shrunken since he left her, or was he grown so much huskier with the out-of-door life? Both perhaps, and he looked at her sorrowfully. She was so little and quiet and brave to bear life all alone, if he could only get back and get to succeeding in life so that he might make some brightness for her. She had born so much, and she ought not to have looked so old and worn at her age. For a brief instant again his heart was almost bitter, and he wondered what God meant by giving his good little mother so much trouble. Was there a God when such things could be? He resolved to do something about finding out this very day. It was pleasant to help his mother about the kitchen, saving her as she had not been saved since he left, telling her about the camp, and listening to her tearful admiration of him. She could scarcely take her eyes from him. He seemed so tall and big and handsome in his uniform. He appeared so much older and more manly that her heart yearned for her boy, who seemed to be slipping away from her. It was so heavenly blessed to sit down beside him, and so on a button and mend a torn spot in his flannel shirt, and have him pat her shoulder now and then contentedly. Then with pride she sent him down to the store for something nice for dinner, and watched him through the window with a smile, the tears running down her cheeks. How tall and straight he walked, how like his father when she first knew him, she hoped the neighbors were all looking out and would see him. Her boy, her soldier boy, and he must go away from her, perhaps to die. But, he was here today, she would not think of the rest, she would rejoice now in his presence. He walked briskly down the street past the houses that had been familiar all his life, meeting people who had never been want to notice him before, and they smiled upon him from afar now, greeted him with enthusiasm, and turned to look after him as he passed on. It gave him a curious feeling to have so much attention from people who had never known him before. It made him feel strangely small, yet filled with a great pride and patriotism for the country that was his, and the government which he now represented to them all. He was something more to them now than just one of the boys about town who had grown up among them. He was a soldier of the United States. He had given his life for the cause of righteousness. The bitterness he might have felt at their former ignoring of him was swallowed up in their genuine and hearty friendliness. He met the white-haired minister, kindly and dignified, who paused to ask him how he liked camp life and to commend him as a soldier. And looking in his strong, gentle face, John Cameron remembered his resolve. He flashed a keen look at the gracious countenance and made up his mind to speak. I'd like to ask you a question, Dr. Thurlow. It's been bothering me quite a little ever since this matter of going away to fight has been in my mind. Is there any way that a man, that I, can find God? That is, if there is a God. I've never thought much about it before, but life down there in camp makes a lot of things seem different. And I've been wondering, I'm not sure what I believe. Is there any way I can find out? A pleasant gleam of surprise and delight thrilled into the deep blue eyes of the minister. It was startling. It almost embarrassed him for a moment. It was so unexpected to have a soldier ask a question about God. It was almost mortifying that he had never thought it worthwhile to take the initiative on that question with the young man. Why, certainly, he said heartily. Of course, of course. I'm very glad to know you are interested in those things. Couldn't you come into my study and talk with me? I think I could help you. I'm sure I could. I haven't much time, said Cameron shyly. Half ashamed now that he had opened his heart to an almost stranger. He was not even his mother's minister, and he was a comparative newcomer in the town. How had he come to speak to him so impulsively? I understand exactly. Of course, said the minister with growing eagerness. Could you come in now for five or ten minutes? I'll turn back with you, and you can stop on your way, or we can talk as we go. Were you thinking of uniting with the church? We have our communion the first Sunday of next month. I should be very glad if you could arrange. We have a number of young people coming in now. I'd like to see you come with them. The church is a good safe place to be. It was established by God. It is a school in which to learn of him, it is. But I'm not what you would call a Christian, protested Cameron. I don't even know that I believe in the Bible. I don't know what your church believes. I don't have a very definite idea of what any church believes. I would be a hypocrite to stand up and join a church when I wasn't sure there was a God. My dear young fellow, said the minister affectionately. Not at all, not at all. The church is the place for young people to come when they have doubts. It is a shelter and a growing place. Just trust yourself to God and come in among his people and your doubts will vanish. Don't worry about doubts. Many people have doubts. Just let them alone and put yourself in the right way and you will forget them. I should be glad to talk with you further. I would like to see you come into communion with God's people. If you want to find God, you should come where he has promised to be. It is a great thing to have a fine young fellow like you and a soldier array himself on the side of God. I would like to see you stand up on the right side before you go out to meet danger and perhaps death. John Cameron stood watching him as he talked. He's a good old guy, he thought gravely, but he doesn't get my point. He evidently believes what he says, but I don't just see going blindfolded into a church. However, there's something to what he says about going where God is if I want to find him. Out loud he merely said, I'll think about it doctor and perhaps come in to see you the next time I'm home. Then he excused himself and went on to the store. As he walked away he said to himself, I wonder what Ruth MacDonald would say if I asked her the same question. I wonder if she has thought anything about it. I wonder if I'd ever have the nerve to ask her. The next morning he suggested to his mother that they go to Dr. Thurlow's church together. She would have very much preferred going to her own church with him, but she knew that he did not care for the minister and had never been very friendly with the people, so she put aside her secret wish and went with him. To tell the truth she was very proud to go anywhere with her handsome soldier son and one thing that made her more willing was that she remembered that the McDonald's always went to the Presbyterian church and perhaps they would be there today and Ruth would see them, but she said not a word of this to her boy. John spent most of the time with his mother. He went to the college for an hour or so on Saturday evening, dropping in on his fraternity for a few minutes and realizing what true friends he had among the fellows who were left, though most of them were gone. He walked about the familiar rooms, looking at the new pictures, photographs of his friends in uniform. This one was a lieutenant in officers training camp. That one had gone with the ambulance corps, Tom was with the engineers, and Jimmy and Sam had joined the tank service. Two of the fellows were in France in the front ranks. Another had enlisted in the marines. It seemed that hardly any were left. And of those, three that had been turned down for some slight physical defect were working in munitions factories and the shipyard. He did not stay long. There was a restlessness about it all that pulled the strings of his heart and made him realize how different everything was. Sunday morning as he walked to church with his mother, he wondered why he had never gone more with her when he was at home. It seemed a pleasant thing to do. The service was beautifully solemn and Dr. Thurlow had many gracious words to say of the boys in the army and spent much time reading letters from those at the front who belonged to the church and Sunday school and spoke of the supreme sacrifice in light of a saving grace. But the sermon was a gentle, ponderous thing that got nowhere, spiced toward its close with thrilling scenes from battle news. John Cameron as he listened did not feel that he had found God. He did not feel a bit enlightened by it. He laid it to his own ignorance and stupidity though and determined not to give up the search. The prayer at the close of the sermon somehow clinched his resolve because there was something so genuine and sweet and earnest about it. He could not help thinking that the man might know more of God than he was able to make plain to his hearers. He had really never noticed either a prayer or a sermon before in his life. He had sat in the room with very few. He wondered if all sermons and prayers were like these and wished he had noticed them. He had never been much of a churchgoer. But the climax, the real heart of his whole two days was after Sunday dinner when he went out to call upon Ruth MacDonald and it was characteristic of his whole reticent nature and the way he had been brought up that he did not tell his mother where he was going. It had never occurred to him to tell her his movements when they did not directly concern her and she had never brought herself up to ask him. It is the habit of some women and many mothers. A great embarrassment fell upon him as he entered the grounds of the MacDonald Place and when he stood before the plate-glass doors waiting for an answer to his ring he would have turned and fled if he had not promised to come. It was perhaps not an accident that Ruth let him in herself and took him to a big quiet library with open windows overlooking the lawn and heavy curtains shutting them in from the rest of the house where, to his great amazement, he could feel at once at ease with her and talk to her just as he had done in her letters and his own. Somehow it was like having a lifetime dream suddenly fulfilled to be sitting this way and conversing with her watching the lights and shadows of expression flit across her sensitive face and knowing that the light in her eyes was for him. It seemed incredible but she evidently enjoyed talking to him. Afterwards he thought about it as if their souls had been calling to one another across infinite space things that neither of them could quite hear and now they were within hailing distance. He thanked her for the sweater and other things and they had talked a little about the old school days and how life changed people when he happened to glance out of the window near him and saw a man in officers' uniform approaching. He stopped short in the midst of a sentence and rose, his face said, his eyes still on the rapidly approaching soldiers. I'm sorry, he said, I shall have to go, it's been wonderful to come but I must go at once. Perhaps you'll let me go out this way, it's a shorter cut, thank you for everything and perhaps, if there's ever another time, I'd like to come again. Oh, please don't go yet, she said, putting out her hand in protest but he grasped the hand with a quick impulsive grip and with a hasty, I'm sorry, but I must. He opened the glass door to the side piazza and was gone. In much bewilderment and distress Ruth watched him stride away toward the hedge and disappeared. Then she turned to the front window and caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Wainwright just mounting the front steps. What did it all mean? End of Chapter 8 Chapter 9 of The Search by Grace Livingston Hill This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Lyke Mini Waters Chapter 9 Ruth tried to control her perturbation and meet her guest with an unruffled countenance but there was something about the bland, smug countenance of Lieutenant Wainwright that irritated her. To have her first pleasant visit with Cameron suddenly broken up in this mysterious fashion and Wainwright substituted for Cameron was somehow like taking a bite of some pleasant fruit and having it turn out plain potato in one's mouth. It was so sudden, like that, she could not seem to get her equilibrium. Her mind was in a whirl of question and she could not focus it on her present caller nor think of anything suitable to say to him. She was not even sure but that he was noticing that she was distraught. To have John Cameron leave in that precipitated manner at the sight of Harry Wainwright. It was all too evident that he had seen him through the window but they were fellow townsmen and had gone to school together. Surely he knew him. Harry was a superior officer but Cameron would not be the kind of man to mind that. She could not understand it. There had been a look in his face, a set look. There must be something behind it all. Some reason why he did not want to be seen by Wainwright. Surely Cameron had nothing of which to be ashamed. The thought brought a sudden dismay. What did she know about Cameron after all? A look, a smile, a bit of boyish gallantry. He might be anything but fine in his private life of course and Harry might be cognizant of the fact yet he did not look like that. Even while the thought forced itself into her mind she resented it and resisted it. Then turning to her guest who was giving an elaborate account of how he had saved a woman's life in an automobile accident she interrupted him. Harry, what do you know about John Cameron? She asked impulsively. Wainwright's face darkened with an ugly frown. More than I want to know, he answered gruffly. He's rotten, that's all. Why, he eyed her suspiciously. There was something in his tone that put her on the defensive at once. Oh, I saw him today and I was wondering. She answered evasively. It's one of those annoyances of army life that we have to be herded up with all sorts of cattle, said Wainwright with a disdainful curl of his baby mustache. But I didn't come here to talk about John Cameron. I came to tell you that I'm going to be married, Ruth. I'm going to be married before I go to France. Delightful, said Ruth pleasantly. Do I know the lady? Indeed you do, he said, watching her with satisfaction. You've known for several years that you were the only one for me and I've come to tell you that I won't stand any more dallying. I mean business now. He crossed his fat leather putties creakily and swelled out, trying to look firm. He had decided that he must impress her with the seriousness of the occasion. But Ruth only laughed merrily. He had been proposing to her ever since he got out of short trousers and she had always laughed him out of it. The first time she told him that she was only a kid and he wasn't much more himself and she didn't want to hear any more such talk. Of late he had grown less troublesome and she had been inclined to settle down to the old neighborly playmate relation so she was not greatly disturbed by the turn of the conversation. In fact she was much too upset and annoyed by the sudden departure of Cameron to realize the determined note in Wainwright's voice. I mean it, he said in an offended tone, flattening his double chin and rolling out his fat lips importantly. I'm not to be played with any longer. Ruth's face sobered. I certainly never had an idea of playing with you, Harry. I think I've always been quite frank with you. Wainwright felt that he wasn't getting on quite as well as he had planned. He frowned and sat up. Now see here, Ruth, let's talk this thing over. He said, drawing the big leather chair in which he was sitting nearer to hers. But Ruth's glance had wandered out of the window. Why, there comes Bobby Wetherill. She exclaimed eagerly out of her chair to the door, just as one of Wainwright's smooth, fat hands reached out to take hold of the arm of her rocker. I'll open the door for him, Mary is in the kitchen and may not hear the bell right away. There was nothing for Wainwright to do but make the best of the situation, although he greeted Wetherill with no very good grace and his large lips pouted out sulkily as he relaxed into his chair again to await the departure of the intruder. Lieutenant Wetherill was quite overwhelmed with the warmth of the greeting he received from Ruth and settled down to enjoy it while it lasted. With a wicked glance of triumph at his rival, he laid himself out to make his account of camp life as entertaining as possible. He produced a gorgeous box of bonbons and arranged himself comfortably for the afternoon, while Wainwright's brow grew darker and his lips pouted out farther and farther under his petted little mustache. It was all a great bore to Ruth just now with her mindful of the annoyance about Cameron. At least she would have preferred to have had her talk with him and found out what he was with her own judgment but anything was better than a tet-a-tet with Wainwright just now. So she ate bonbons and asked questions and kept the conversation going, ignoring Wainwright's increasing grouch. It was a great relief however when about half past four the maid appeared at the door. A long distance telephone call for you Miss Ruth as Ruth was going up the stairs to her own private phone she paused to fasten the tie of her low shoe that had come undone and was threatening to trip her and she heard Harry Wainwright's voice in an angry snarl. What business did you have coming here today, you darn chump? You knew what I came for and you did it on purpose. If you don't get out the minute she gets back I'll put her wise to you and the kind of girls you go with in no time and you needn't think you can turn the tables on me either for I'll fix you so you won't dare open your full mouth. The sentence finished with an oath and Ruth hurried into her room and shut the door with a sick kind of feeling that her whole little world was turning black about her. It was good to hear the voice of her cousin Captain LaRue over the phone even though it was but a message that he could not come as he had promised that evening. It reassured her that there were good men in the world. Of course he was older but for sure he had never been what people called wild although he had plenty of courage and spirit. She had often heard that good men were few but it had never seemed to apply to her world but vaguely. Now here of a sudden a slur had been thrown at three of her young world. John Cameron it is true was a comparative stranger and of course she had no means of judging except by the look in his eyes. She understood in a general way that Broughton as applied to a young man's character implied uncleanness. John Cameron's eyes were steady and clear. They did not look that way but then how could she tell? And here this very minute she had been hearing that Bobby Weatherall's life was not all that it should be and Wainwright had tacitly accepted the possibility of the same weakness in himself. These were boys with whom she had been brought up. Selfish and conceited she had often thought them on occasion but it had not occurred to her that there might be anything worse. She pressed her hands to her eyes and tried to force a calm steadiness into her soul. Somehow she had an utter distaste for going back into that library and hearing their boastful chatter. Yet she must go. She had been hoping all the afternoon for her cousin's arrival to send the other two away. Now that was out of the question and she must use her own tact to get pleasantly rid of them. With a sigh she opened her door and started downstairs again. It was Wainwright's blatant voice again that broke through the sabbath afternoon stillness of the house as she approached the library door. Yes, I've got John Cameron all right now, he laughed. He won't hold his head so high after he's spent a few days in the guard house and that's what they're all going to get that are late coming back this time. I found out before I left camp that his pass only reads till eleven o'clock and the five o'clock train is the last one he can leave Chester on to get him to camp by eleven. So I hired a fellow that was coming up to buddy up to camp and fix it that he is to get a friend of his to take them over to Chester in time for the train. The fellow doesn't have to get back himself tonight at all but he isn't going to let on you know so Cam will think they're in the same boat. Then they're going to have a little bit of tire trouble down in that lonely bit of rough road that shortcut between here and Chester where there aren't any cars passing to help them out and they'll miss the train at Chester, see and then the man will offer to take them on to camp in his car and they'll get stuck again down beyond Wilmington, lose the road and switch off towards Singleton. You know where we took those girls to that little out of the way tavern that time and you see Cam getting back to camp in time don't you? Ruth had paused with her hand on the heavy portierre why died but Cam run will find a way out he's too sharp he'll start to walk or he'll get some passing car to take him said weather roll with conviction no he won't the fellows are all primed they're going to catch him in spots where cars don't go where the road is bad you know and nobody but a fool would go with a car he won't be noticing before they break down because this fellow told him his man could drive a car over the moon and never break down besides I know my men they'll get away with the job there's too much money in it for them to run any risk of losing out it's all going to happen so quick he won't be ready for anything well you'll have your trouble for your pains Cam'll explain everything to the officers and he'll get by he always does not this time they've just made a rule that no excuses go there've been a lot of fellows coming back late drunk and you see that's how we mean to wind up they are going to get him drunk and then we'll see if little Johnny will go around with his nose in the air any longer I'm going to run down to the tavern late this evening to see the fun myself you can't do it Cam won't drink it's been tried again and again he'd rather die but the girl at the door had fled to her room on velvet shod feet and closed her door her face white with horror her lips set with purpose her heart beating wildly she must put a stop somehow to this diabolical plot against him if he was worthy or not they should not do this thing to him she rang for the maid and began putting on her hat and coat and flinging a few things into a small bag she glanced at her watch it was a quarter to five could she make it if she only knew which way he had gone would his mother have a telephone her eyes scanned the sea column hurriedly yes there it was she might have known he would not allow her to be alone without a telephone the maid appeared at the door Mary, she said trying to speak calmly tell Thomas to have the grey car ready at once he needed bring it to the house I will come out the back way please take this bag and two long coats out and when I am gone go to the library and ask the two gentlemen there to excuse me say that I am suddenly called away to a friend in trouble if Aunt Rhoda returns soon tell her I will call her up later and let her know my plans that is all I will be down in two or three minutes and I wish to start without delay Mary departed on her errand and Ruth went to the telephone and called up the Cameron number the sadness of the answering voice struck her even in her haste her own tone was eager intimate as she hastened to convey her message Mrs Cameron this is Ruth MacDonald has your son left yet to be taken to the train in our car oh, he has just gone came a pitiful little gasp that had a sob at the end of it he went in somebody's car and they were late coming I am afraid he is going to miss his train and he has got to get it or he will be in trouble that is the last train that connects with Wilmington Ruth's heart leaped to her opportunity suppose we try to catch him then proposed Ruth gleefully my car can go pretty fast and if he has missed the train perhaps we can carry him on to Wilmington would you like to try? oh, could we? the voice throbbed with eagerness my car is already I'll be down there in three minutes we've no time to waste put on something warm she hung up the receiver without waiting for further reply and hurried softly out of the room and back down the stairs Thomas was well trained the cars were already in order he was used to Ruth's hurry calls and when she reached the garage she found the car standing in the back street waiting for her in a moment more she was rushing on her way toward the village without having aroused the suspicion of the two men who so impatiently awaited her return Mrs. Cameron was ready eager as a child standing on the sidewalk with a great blanket shawl over her arm and looking up the street for her it was not until they had swept through the village, over the bridge and were out on the broad highway toward Chester that Ruth began to realize what a wild goose chase she had undertaken just where did she expect to find them anyway it was now three minutes to five by the little clock in the car and it was a full fifteen minutes drive to Chester the plan had been to delay him on the way to the train and there had been mention of a shortcut could that be the rough stony road just beyond the stone quarry it seemed hardly possible that anybody would attempt to run a car over that road surely John Cameron knew the roads about here well enough to advise against it still Ruth knew the locality like a book and that was the only shortcut there about if they had gone down there they might emerge at the other end just in time to miss the train and then start on toward Wilmington or they might turn back and take the longer way on the short road utterly impassable which should she take should she dare that rocky way if only there might be some tracks to guide her but the road was hard and dusty and told no tales of recent travelers they skimmed down the grade past the stone quarry and the shortcut flashed into view rough and hilly turning sharply away behind a group of spruce trees it was thick woods beyond if she went that way any trouble with her machine the chances were few that anyone would come along to help she had but a moment to decide and something told her that the long way was the safe one and the shorter in the end she swept on her engine throbbing with that pleasant per of expensive well-groomed machinery the car leaping forward as if it delighted in the high speed the little woman by her side sat breathless and eager with shining eyes looking ahead for her boy they passed car after car and Ruth scanned the occupants keenly some were filled with soldiers but John Cameron was not among them she began to be afraid that perhaps she ought after all to have gone down that hilly way and made sure they were not there she was not quite sure where that short road came out if she knew she might run up a little way from this further end the two women sat almost silent straining their eyes ahead they had hardly said a word since the first greeting each seemed to understand the thought of the other without words for the present they had but one common object to find John Cameron suddenly as far ahead as they could see a car darted out of the wooded roadside swung into their road and plunged ahead at a tremendous rate they had a glimpse of khaki uniforms but it was much too far away to distinguish faces or forms nevertheless both women fastened their eyes upon it with but one thought Ruth put on more speed and forged ahead thankful that she was not within city lines yet and that there was no one about to remind her of the speed limit something told her that the man she was seeking was in that car ahead it was a thrilling race Ruth said no word but she knew that her companion was aware that she was chasing that car Mrs. Cameron sat straight and tense as if it had been a race of life and death her cheeks glowing and her eyes shining Ruth was grateful that she did not talk some women would have talked incessantly the other car did not go into Chester proper at all but veered away into a branch road and Ruth followed leaping over the road as if it had been a gray velvet ribbon she did not seem to be gaining on the car but it was encouraging that they could keep it still in sight then there came a sharp turn of the road and it was gone they were pushing along now at a tremendous rate the girl had cast caution to the winds she had heard the complacent sneer of Harry Wainwright as he boasted how they would get John Cameron into trouble and all the force of her strong young will was enlisted to frustrate his plans it was growing dusk and lights leapt out on the mountain factories all about them along the river other lights flashed and flickered in the white mist that rose like a wreath but Ruth saw nothing of it all she was straining her eyes for the little black speck of a car which she had been following and which now seemed to be swallowed up by the evening she had not relaxed her speed and the miles were whirling by she had a growing consciousness that she might be passing the object of her chase at any minute without knowing it presently they came to a junction and she paused on ahead the road was broad and empty save for a car coming towards them off to the right was a desolate way leading to a little cemetery down to the left a smooth wooded road wound into the darkness there were signboards up Ruth leaned out and flashed a pocket torch on the board to pine tree in seven miles it read did she fancy it or was it really true that she could hear the distant sound of a car among the pines I'm going down this way she said decidedly to her companion as if her action needed an explanation and she turned her car into the new road but it's too late now said Mrs. Cameron wistfully the train will be gone of course even from Wilmington and you ought to be going home I'm very wrong to have let you come so far and it's getting dark your folks will be worrying about you that man will likely do his best to get him to camp in time no said Ruth decidedly there's no one at home to worry just now and I often go out alone rather late besides aren't we having a good time we're going a little further anyway before we give up she began to wonder in her heart if she ought not to have told somebody else and taken Thomas along to help it was rather a questionable thing for her to do in the dusk of the evening to women all alone but then she had Mrs. Cameron along and that made it perfectly respectable but if she failed now what else could she do her blood boiled hotly at the thought of letting Harry Wainwright succeed in his miserable plot oh for cousin LaRue he would have thought of a way out of this if everything else failed she would tell the whole story to Captain LaRue and beg him to exonerate John Cameron but that of course she knew would be hard to do there was so much red tape in the army and there were so many unwritten laws that could not be set aside just for private individuals still there must be a way if she had to go herself to someone and tell them what she had overheard she set her pretty lips firmly and rode on at a brisk pace down the dark road switching on her headlights to see the way here in the woods and then suddenly just in time she jerked on the break and came to a jarring stop for ahead of her a big car was sprawled across the road and there rising hurriedly from a kneeling posture before the engine in the full blaze of her headlights blinking and frowning with anxiety stood John Cameron End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of The Search by Grace Livingston Hill This Liber Vox recording is in the public domain recording by Like Many Waters Chapter 10 The end of her chase came so unexpectedly that her wits were completely scattered now that she was face to face with the tall soldier she had nothing to say for her presence there what would he think of her? how could she explain her coming? she had undertaken the whole thing in such haste that she had not planned ahead now she knew that from the start she had understood that she must not explain how she came to be possessed of any information concerning him she felt a kind of responsible shame for her old playmate Harry Wainwright and a certain loyalty toward her own social set that prevented her from that the only possible explanation that could make her coming justifiable so now in the brief interval before he had recognized them she must stage the next act and she found herself unable to speak her throat dry her lips for the instant paralyzed it was the jubilant little mother that stepped into the crisis and did the most natural thing in the world John, oh John it's really you we've caught you, she cried and the troubled young soldier peering into the dusk to discover if here was a vehicle he might presume to commandeer to help him out of his predicament lifted startled eyes to the two faces in the car and strode forward abandoning with a clang the wrench with which he had been working on the car mother, he said, a shade of deep anxiety in his voice what is the matter, how came you to be here why, I came after you she said, laughing like a girl we're going to see that you get to camp in time we've made pretty good time so far jump in quick and we'll tell you the rest on the way we mustn't waste time Cameron startled gaze turned on Ruth now and a great wonder and delight in his eyes it was like the day when he went away on the train only more so and it brought a rich flush into Ruth's cheeks as she felt the hot waves she was glad that she was sitting behind the light what you, he breathed wonderingly but this is too much and after the way I treated you his mother looked wonderingly from one to the other get in John quick we mustn't lose a minute, something might delay us later it was plain she was deeply impressed with the necessity for the soldier not to be found wanting yes, please get in quickly and let us start, then we can talk said Ruth, casting an anxious glance toward the other car his hand went out to the door to open it the wonder still shining in his face when a low murmur like a growl went up behind him Ruth looked up and there in the full glare of the lights stood two burly civilians and a big soldier oh, I say, draw the soldier in no very pleasant tone you're not going to desert us that way not after pass came out of his way for us I didn't think you had a yellow streak Cameron paused and a troubled look came into his face he glanced at the empty back seat with a repression of his disappointment in the necessity there's another fellow here that has to get back at the same time I do he said, looking at Ruth hesitatingly certainly ask him of course Ruth's voice was hardy and put the whole car at his disposal there's room for you too, Chalmers he said with relief and Passmore will be glad to get rid of us I suspect, he'll be able to get home soon there isn't much the matter with that engine if you do what I told you to that carburetor you'll find it will go all right come on, Chalmers, we ought to hurry no thanks I stick to my friends, said the soldier as he please said Cameron, stepping on the running board not as you please said a gruff voice I'm running this party and we all go together, see a heavy hand came down upon Cameron's shoulders with a mighty grip Cameron landed a smashing blow under the man's chin which sent him reeling and sprang inside as Ruth threw in the clutch and sent her car leaping forward the two men in front were taken by surprise and barely got out of the way in time but instantly recovered their senses and sprang after the car the one nearest her reaching for the wheel Cameron leaning forward sent him rolling down the gully and Ruth turned the car sharply to avoid the other car which was occupying as much of the road as possible and left the third man scrambling to his knees behind her it was taking a big chance to dash past that car in the narrow space over rough ground but Ruth was not conscious of anything but the necessity of getting away in an instant they were back in the road and flashing along through the dark mother you better let me help you back here set her son leaning forward and almost lifting his mother into the back seat then stepping over to take her place beside Ruth better turn out your back lights he said in a quiet steady voice they might follow you know they're in an ugly mood they've been drinking then the car isn't really out of commission not seriously we're not on the right road did you know this road goes to the pine tree in and singleton Cameron gave a low exclamation then they're headed for more liquor I thought something was up is there a crossroad back to the pike I'm not sure probably I know there is about three miles farther on almost to the end this is an awful mess to have got you into I'd rather have been in the guard house than have this happen to you please don't said Ruth earnestly it's an adventure I'm enjoying it I'm not a doll to be kept in cotton wool I should say not said Cameron with deep admiration in his tone you haven't shown yourself much of a doll tonight some doll to run a car the way you did in the face of all that I'll tell you better what I think when we get out of this they are coming I believe said Ruth glancing back don't you see a light look Mrs Cameron was looking to through the little back window now she spoke quietly wouldn't it be better to get out and slip up in the woods till they have gone by no mother said Cameron quickly just you sit quiet where you are and trust us something awful might happen John no mother don't you worry he said in his gentle manly tone then to Ruth there's a big barn ahead there on your left keep your eye out for a road around behind it if we could disappear it's too dark for them to know where we are would you care to turn out all the lights and let me run the car I don't want to boast but there isn't much of anything I can't do with a car when I have to instantly Ruth switched out every light and with a relieved please gave up the wheel to him they made the change swiftly and silently and Ruth took the post of look out yes I can see two lights it might be someone else might not likely on this road but we're not taking any chances and with that the car bumped down across a gully and lurched up to a grassy approach to a big stone barn that loomed above them then slid down another bank and passed close to a great haystack whose clutching straw fingers reached out to brush their faces and so swept softly around to the rear of the barn and stopped Cameron shut off the engine instantly and they sat in utter silence listening to the oncoming car it's they all right whispered Cameron softly that's Passmore's voice he converses almost wholly in choice profanity his mother's hand stole out to touch his shoulder and he reached around and held it close don't tremble mother we're all safe he whispered in a tone so tender that Ruth felt a shiver of pleasure pass over her for the mother who had such a son also there was the instant thought that a man could not be wholly rotten when he could speak to his mother in that tone there was a breathless space when the car paused on the road not far away and their pursuers stood up and looked around shouting to one another there was no mistaking their identity now Ruth shivered visibly one of them got out of the car and came toward the barn they could hear him stepping over the stony roadside Cameron laid a quiet hand of reassuring protection on her arm that steadied her and made her feel wonderfully safe once more and strange to say she found herself lifting up another queer little kind of a prayer it had never been her habit to pray much except in form her heart had seldom needed anything that money could not supply the man had stumbled across the gully and up toward the barn they could hear him swearing at the unevenness of the ground and Ruth held her breath and prayed again a moment more and he was fumbling about for the barn door and calling for a flashlight then, like the distance sound of a mighty angel of deliverance came the rumble of a car in the distance the men heard it and took it for their quarry on ahead they climbed into their car again and were gone like a flash John Cameron did not wait for them to get far away he set the car in motion as soon as they were out of sight and its expensive mechanism obeyed his direction almost silently as he guided it around the barn behind the haystack and back again into the road over which they had just come now, he said, as he put the car to its best speed and switched on its headlights again now we can beat them to it I guess if they come back this way which I don't think they will the car dashed over the ground and the three sat silent while they passed into the woods and over the place where they had first met Cameron Ruth felt herself trembling again and her teeth beginning to chatter Cameron seemed to realize her feeling and turned toward her you've been wonderful, he said flashing a warm look at her and you too mother, lifting his voice a little and turning his head toward the back seat I don't believe any other two women in Brian Haven could have gone through a scene like that and kept absolutely still you were great there was that in his voice that lifted Ruth's heart more than any praise she had ever received for anything she wanted to make some acknowledgement found to her surprise that tears were choking her throat so that she could not speak it was the excitement of course she told herself and struggled to get control of her emotion they emerged from the woods and inside of the pike at last and Cameron drew a long breath of relief there I guess we can hold our own with anyone now he said, settling back in his seat but relaxing none of his vigilance toward the car which sped along the highway like a winged thing but it's time I heard how you came to be here I haven't been able to explain it during the intervals when I've had any chance at all to think about it oh, I just called up your mother to know if it would help you any to be taken to your train said Ruth quickly and she mentioned that she was worried lest you would miss it so I suggested that we try to catch you and to take you on to Wilmington or Baltimore or wherever you have to go I do hope this delay hasn't spoiled it all how long does it take to go from Baltimore to camp I've taken the Baltimore trip myself in five hours it's only quarter past six yet do you think we can make it but you can't go all the way to Baltimore he exclaimed what would you and mother do at that time of night alone after I go to camp you see it isn't as if I could stay and come back with you oh we'll just go to a hotel in Baltimore won't we miss Cameron we'll be alright if we only get you safe to camp do you think we can do it oh yes we can do it alright with this car but I'm quite sure I ought not to let you do it just for me what will your people think I've left word that I've gone to a friend in trouble twinkled Ruth I'll call them up when I get to Baltimore and make it alright with auntie she will trust me Cameron turned and looked at her wonderingly, reverently it's wonderful that you should do this for me he said in a low tone so that the watching wistful mother could not even guess what he was saying it's not in the least wonderful said Ruth brightly remember the hedge and Chuck Woodcock she was beginning to get herself possession again you are paying that old score back in compound interest said Cameron that was a wonderful ride rushing along beneath the stars going back to childhoods days and getting acquainted again where they left off Ruth forgot all about the cause of her wild chase and the two young men she had left disconsolate in her library at home forgot her own world in this new beautiful one wherein her spirit really communed with another spirit forgot utterly what Wainwright had said about Cameron as more and more through their talk she came to see the fineness of his character they flashed on from one little village to another leaving one clustering glimmer of lights in the distance only to pass to other clustering groups it was in their favor that there were not many other travelers to dispute their way and they were hindered very little Cameron had made the trip many times and knew the roads well they did not have to hesitate and inquire the way they made good time the clocks were striking tin when they reached the outskirts of Baltimore now said Ruth in a sweetly imperious tone consulting her timepiece to be sure the clock strokes correctly do you know what you are going to do Mr. Corporal you are going to land your mother and me at the nearest hotel and take the car with you back to camp you said one of the fellows had his car down there so I'm sure you'll be able to find a place to put it overnight if you find a way to send the car back to us in the morning well and good if not your mother and I will go home by train and the chauffeur can come down tomorrow and bring back the car or better still you can drive yourself up the next time you get leave off there was much argument about the matter within a brief space of time but in the end which came in five minutes Ruth had her way and the young soldier departed for his camp in the grey car with ample time to make the short trip leaving his mother and Ruth at a Baltimore hotel after having promised to call up in the morning and let them know what he could do about the car Ruth selected a large double room and went at once to the telephone to call up her aunt she found to her relief that that good lady had not yet returned from her day with a friend in the city so that no explanations would be necessary that night she left word with the servant that she was in Baltimore with a friend and would probably be at home the next day sometime then she turned to find to her dismay that her companion was sitting in a low armed chair with tears running down her cheeks oh my dear she exclaimed rushing over to her you are all worn out not a bit of it sobbed the mother with a smile like sunshine through her tears I was so happy I couldn't keep from crying don't you ever get that way I've just been watching you and thinking what a dear beautiful child you are and how wonderful God has been to send you to help my boy oh it was so dreadful to me to think of him going down to camp with those men there I smelt liquor on their breath when they came for him and I was just crying and praying about it when you called me up of course I knew my boy wouldn't drink but so many accidents can happen with automobiles when the driver is drunk my dear I never can thank you enough they were both too excited to sleep soon but long after the mother was asleep Ruth lay awake going over the whole day and wondering there were so many things about the incident of the afternoon and evening now that they were over that were utterly out of accord with her whole life here to for she felt intuitively that her aunt would never understand if she were to explain the whole proceeding there were so many laws of her little world of conventionalities that she had transgressed and so many qualms of a belated conscience about whether she ought to have done it at all what would Cameron think of her anyway her cheeks burned hot in the dark over that question strange she had not thought of it at all either beforehand or while she sat beside him during that wonderful ride and now the thing that Wainwright had said shouted itself out to her ears rotten rotten rotten like a dirge suppose he were it couldn't be true it just couldn't but suppose he were well suppose he were how was she hurt by doing a kind act having taken a stand against all her former ideas Ruth had instant peace and drifted into dreams of what she had been enjoying the way suddenly lit by a sleepy remembrance of Weatherill's declaration he won't drink you can't make him it's been tried again and again there was evidence in his favor why hadn't she remembered that before and his mother she had been so sure of him the telephone bell wakened her with a message from camp his voice and greeted her pleasantly with the word that it was all right he had reached camp in plenty of time found a good place for the car and it would be at the hotel at nine o'clock Ruth turned from the phone with a vague disappointment he had not said a word of thanks or goodbye or anything only that he must hurry not even a word to his mother but then of course men did not think of those little things perhaps as women did as a matter of course it made it less embarrassing for her but when they went down to the car behold he was in it I got leave off for the morning he explained smiling I told my captain all about how you got me back in time when I'd missed the train and he told me to see you as far as Wilmington and catch the noon train back from there he's a peach of a captain if my lieutenant had been there I wouldn't have got a chance to ask him good night but for good luck the lieutenant has a two days leave this time he's a mess Ruth looked at him musingly was Harry Wainwright the lieutenant they had a golden morning together and talked of many things that welded a friendship already well begun weren't you at all frightened last night asked Cameron once looking at the delicate beauty of the face beside him and noting the strength and sweetness of it Mrs Cameron was dozing in the back seat and they felt quite alone and free Ruth looked up at him frankly why yes I think I was for a minute or two while we were behind that barn but did you ever pray when you were in a trying situation he looked down earnestly into her face half startled at her words why I don't know that I ever did I'm not quite sure if it was praying well I don't know that I ever did before she went on thoughtfully but last night when those men got out of their car in front of the barn so near us again I found myself praying she dropped her eyes half embarrassed just as if I were a frightened little child I found myself saying God help us God help us and right away we heard that other car coming and the men went away it somehow seemed well strange I wonder if anybody else ever had an experience like that I've heard of them said Cameron gravely I've wondered sometimes myself do you believe in God oh yes said Ruth quite firmly of course what use would there be in anything if there wasn't a God but do you believe we humans can ever really well find him on this earth I mean why I don't know that I ever thought about it she answered bewildered find him in what way do you mean why get in touch with him get to know him perhaps beyond such terms with him that one could call out in a time like last night you know or well say in a battle I've been thinking a lot about that lately naturally oh gas through softly of course I hadn't thought about that much either we've been so thoughtless and and sort of happy you know just like butterflies we girls I haven't realized that men were going out to face death it isn't that I'm afraid to die said Cameron proudly lifting his chin as if dying were a small matter not just the dying part I reckon I've been through worse than that a dozen times that wouldn't last long it's the other part I have a feeling there'll be a little something more expected of me than just to have tried to get the most fun out of life I've been thinking if there is a God he'd expect us to find it out and make things straight between us somehow I suppose I don't make myself very plain I don't believe I've known myself just what I mean I think I understand just a little said Ruth I have never thought about it before but I'm going to now it's something we ought to think about I guess in a sense it's something that each one of us has to think whether we are going into battle or not isn't it I suppose it is only we never realize it when things are going along alright said Cameron it seems queer that everybody that's ever lived on this earth has had this question to face sooner or later and most of them haven't done much about it the few people who profess to have found a way to meet it we call cranks or else pick flaws in the way they live although it does seem to me that if I really found God so I was sure he was there and cared about me I'd managed to live a little decenter life than some do they drifted into other topics and all too soon they reached Wilmington and had to say goodbye but the thought stayed with Ruth more or less during the days that followed and crept into her letters when she wrote to Corporal Cameron as she did quite often in these days and still no solution had come to the great question which was so like the one of old what shall I do to be saved it came and went during the days that followed and now and again the fact that it had originated in a talk with Cameron clashed badly in her mind with that word rotten that Wainwright had used about him so that at last she resolved to talk to her cousin Captain LaRue the next time he came up cousin captain she said do you know a boy at your camp from Brian Haven named John Cameron indeed I do said the captain what kind of a man is he the best young man I know in every way answered the captain promptly if the world were made up of men like him it would be a pretty good place in which to live do you know him a little said Ruth evasively with a satisfied smile on her lips his mother is in our red cross now she thinks he's about right of course but mothers usually do I guess I'll have to tell her what you said it will please her he used to be in school with me years ago I haven't seen much of him since well all I have to say is improve your acquaintance if you get the chance he's worth ten to one of your society youths that lull around here almost every time I come now cousin captain chided Ruth but she went off smiling and she kept all his words in her heart End of Chapter 10 Chapter 12 of The Search by Grace Livingston Hill this Liber Vox recording is in the public domain recording by like many waters Chapter 12 Corporal Cameron did not soon return to his native town an epidemic of measles broke out in camp just before Thanksgiving and pursued its tantalizing course through his special barracks with strenuous figure quarantine was put on for three weeks and was butt lifted for a few hours when a new batch of cases came down seven weeks more of isolation followed when the men were not allowed away from the barracks except for long lonely walks or gallops across camp even the mild excitements of the YMCA huts were not for them in these days they were much shut up to themselves and latent tendencies broke loose and ran riot shooting crap became a passion they gambled as long as they had a dollar left or could get credit on the next month's payday then they gambled for their shirts and their bayonets all day long whenever they were in the barracks you could hear the rattle of the dice and the familiar call of Phoebe Big Dick, Big Nick, and Little Joe when they were not on drill the men would infest the barracks for hours at a time gathered in crouching groups about the dice the air thick and blue with cigarette smoke while others had nothing better to do than sprawl on their cots and talk and from their talk they were often turned away nauseated the low ideals the open boasting of shame the matter of course conviction that all men and most women were as bad as themselves filled him with a deep boiling rage and he would close his book or throw down the paper with which he was trying to wild the hour and fling forth into the cold air for a solitary ride or walk he was sitting thus a cold cheerless December day with a French book he had recently sent for trying to study a little and prepare himself for the new country to which he was soon going the door of the barracks opened letting in a rush of cold air and closed quickly again a tall man in uniform with a red triangle on his arm stood pulling off his woolen gloves and looking about him nobody paid him any attention Cameron was deep in his book and did not even notice him off at his left a new crap game was just starting with tears like the buzz of bees or mosquitoes I'll shoot a buck you're faded come on now there dice remember the baby shoes Cameron had ceased to hear the voices he was struggling with a difficult French idiom the stranger took his bearings deliberately and walked over to Cameron sitting down with a friendly air on the nearest cot would you be interested in having one of my little books he asked and his voice had a clear ring Cameron's thoughts back to the barracks again he looked up for a curt refusal he did not wish to be bothered now but something in the young man's earnest face held him YMCA men in general were well enough but Cameron wasn't crazy about them especially when they were young but this one had a look about him that proclaimed him neither a slacker nor a sissy Cameron hesitated what kind of a book he asked in a somewhat curt manner the boy, for he was only a boy though he was tall as a man did not hedge but went straight to the point looking eagerly at the soldier a pocket testament he said earnestly and laid in Cameron's hand a little book with limp leather covers Cameron took it up half curiously then looked into the other's face almost coldly you selling them there was a covert sneer in his tone no no said the other quickly I'm giving them away for a promise you see, I had an accident and one of my eyes was put out a while ago of course they wouldn't take me for a soldier and the next best thing was to be all the help I could to the fellows that are going to fight I figure that book is the best thing I can bring you the manly simplicity of the boy held Cameron's gaze firmly fixed hmm, in what way Cameron was turning the leaves curiously enjoying the silky fineness and the clear cut print and soft leather binding life in the barracks was so much in the rough that any bit of refinement was doubly appreciated he liked the feel of the little book and had a curious longing to be its possessor why, it gives you a pretty straight line on where we're all going what is expected of us and how we're to be looked out for it shows one how to know God and be ready to meet to death if we have to what makes you think anyone can know God on this earth asked Cameron sharply because I have said the astonishing young man quite as if he were saying he were related to the president or something like that you have how did you get to know him through that little book and by following its teachings Cameron turned over the pages again catching familiar phrases here and there as he had heard them sometimes in Sunday school years ago you said something about a promise what was it you'll carry the book with you always and read at least a verse in it every day well, that doesn't sound hard mused Cameron I guess I could stand for that the book is yours then would you like to put your name to that acceptance card in the front of the book what's that? asked Cameron sharply as if he had discovered the fly in the ointment for which he had all along been suspicious well, I call it the first step in knowing God the acceptance of the way God has planned for you to be forgiven and saved from sin if you sign that you say you will accept Christ as your savior but suppose you don't believe in Christ I can't commit myself to anything like that till I know about it well, you see that's the first move in getting to know God said the stranger with a smile God says he wants you to believe in his son he asked that much of you if you want to get to know him Cameron looked at him with bewildered interest was here a possible answer to the questions of his heart why did this curious boy have a light in his face that never came from earth or air what was there about his simple earnestness that was so convincing another crap game had started up on the other side of them a musically inclined private was playing ragtime on the piano and another was trying to accompany him on the banjo the air was hazier than ever there was no change to be talking of such things in these surroundings let's get out of here and walk said Cameron I'd like to understand what you mean for two hours they tramped across the frozen ground and talked arguing this way and that much drawn toward one another at last in the solemn background of a wall of whispering pines that shut them away from the stark gray rows of barracks Cameron took out his fountain pen opened the little book on his knee and wrote his name and the date then he put it in his breast pocket with a solemn feeling that he had taken some kind of a great step toward what his soul had been longing to find they knelt on the frozen ground beside that log and the stranger prayed simply as if he were talking to a friend there after that spot was hallowed ground to Cameron to which he came often to think and to read his little book that night he wrote to Ruth telling in a shy way of his meeting with the testament man and about the little book after he had mailed the letter he walked back again to the spot among the pines and standing there looked up to the stars and somehow committed himself again to the covenant he had signed in the little book it was then that he decided that if he got home again after quarantine before he went over he would unite with the church somehow the strangers talk that afternoon had cleared away his objections on his way back to the barracks across the open field up through the woods and over the crest of the hill toward the road as he walked thinking deeply suddenly from down below on the road a familiar voice floated up to him he parted the branches of oak underbrush that made a screen between him and the road and glanced down to get his bearings the better to avoid an unwelcome meeting it was inevitable when one came near Lieutenant that he would overhear some part of a conversation for he had a carrying voice which he never sought to restrain you sure she's a girl with pep are you I don't want to bother with any other kind all right tell her to wait for me in the Washington station tomorrow evening at eight I'll look for her at the right of the information booth tell her to wear a red carnation so I'll know her I'll show her a good time all right if she's the right sort I'll trust you that she's a good looker Cameron could not hear the response but the two were standing silhouetted against a distant light and something in the attitude of the other man held his attention for a moment he could not place him then it flashed across his mind that this was the soldier chambers who had been the means of his missing the train at Chester on the memorable occasion when Ruth McDonald had saved the day it struck him as a strange thing that these two enemies of his whom he would have supposed to be strangers to one another should be talking thus intimately to make sure of the man's identity he waited until the two parted and Wainwright went his way and then at a distance followed the other one until he was quite certain he walked back thoughtfully trying to make it out had Wainwright then been at the bottom of his trouble that day it began to seem quite possible and how had Ruth McDonald happened to be so opportunely present at the right moment how had she happened to turn down that road a road that was seldom used by people going to Baltimore it was all very strange and had never been satisfactorily explained Ruth had evaded the question most plausibly every time he had brought it up could it be that Wainwright had told her of a plot against him and she had reached out to help him his heart leapt at the thought then at once he was sure that Wainwright had never told her unless perhaps he had some tale against him and made him the butt of a great joke well if he had she had cared enough to defend him and help him out without ever giving away the fact that she knew but here too lay a thorn to disturb him why had Ruth McDonald not told the plain truth if she knew was she trying to shield Harry Wainwright could she really care for that contemptible scoundrel the thought in all its phases tore his mind and kept him awake for hours for the crux of the whole matter was that he was afraid that Ruth McDonald was going to marry Lieutenant Wainwright and he knew that it was not only for her sake but for his also that he did not want this that it was agony even to contemplate he told himself of course that his interest was utterly unselfish that she was nothing to him but a friend and never would be and that while it might be hard to see her belong to some fine man there never might be more than a passing friend still it would not be like seeing her tied to a rotten unprincipled fellow like Wainwright the queer part of it was that the word rotten in connection with his enemy played a great part in his thoughts that night somewhere in the watches of the night a memory came to him of the covenant he had made that day and a vague wistful reaching of his heart after the Christ to whom he was supposed to have surrendered his life he wondered if a Christ such as the stranger had claimed he had would take an interest in the affairs of Ruth McDonald surely such a flower of a girl would be protected if there was protection for anyone and somehow he managed to queer little prayer for her the first he had tried to put up it helped him a little and toward morning he fell asleep a few days later in glancing through his newly acquired testament he came upon a verse which greatly troubled him his eye had caught it at random and somehow it lodged in his mind for bearing one another and forgiving one another if any man have a quarrel against any even as Christ forgave you so also do ye somehow the principle of that verse did not fit with his proud spirit he thought instantly of Wainwright's distasteful face and form it seemed to loom before him with a smug triumphal sneer sympathy toward the fellow had been of years standing and had been deepened many times by unforgettable acts there was nothing about Wainwright to make one forgive him there was everything about him to make one want to punish him when the first first confronted Cameron he felt a rising indignation that there had been so much as a connection in his thoughts with his quarrel with Wainwright why anybody that knew him knew Wainwright was wrong God must think so too that verse might apply to little quarrels but not to his feeling about the way Wainwright had treated him ever since they were children that was not to be born of course those words he had called Cameron's father how they made his blood boil even now no he would not forbear not forgive Wainwright God would not want him to do so it was right he should be against him forever thus he dismissed the suggestion and turned to the beginning of his testament having determined to find the Christ of whom the stranger had set him in search on the fly leaf of the little book the stranger had written a few words and he shall find me when he shall search for me with all your heart Jeremiah 2913 that meant no half way business he could understand that well he was willing to put himself into the search fully he understood that it was worth a whole hearted search if one were really to find God as a reward that night he wrote a letter to the minister and Brian Haven asking for an interview when next he was able to get leave from camp in the meantime he kept out of the way of Wainwright most adroitly and found many ways to avoid a meeting there had been three awful days when his peach of a captain about whom he had spoken to Ruth had been called away on some military errand and Wainwright had been the commanding officer there had been days of gall and wormwood to Cameron for his proud spirit could not bend to salute the man whom he considered a scoundrel and Wainwright took a fine delight in using his power over his enemy to the limit if it had not been for the unexpected return of the captain a day earlier than planned Cameron might have had to suffer humiliations far greater than he did the bitterness between the two grew stronger and Cameron went about with his soul boiling with rage and rebellion it was only when Ruth's letters came that he forgot it all for a few minutes and lifted his thoughts to higher things End of Chapter 12