DECIDING DESTINIES
Tired of carrying the children about, the two boys sat down on a bench beside what had once been a large barn. The destructive fire started by the invaders had apparently been checked by a heavy rainfall as the half burned structures and charred timbers testified. There was still a chance to rebuild and save enough from the wreckage to enable the owners to start their lives afresh. But alas, of those owners but two were left—the two tiny, terrified, war-racked creatures in the arms of the two Boy Scouts. While their little charges slept, the boys continued their talk in a low tone. Their arms, unaccustomed to such burdens, were tired and stiff by the time one of the officers left the distant group and approached them.
"Why don't you lay the poor little cubs down somewhere?" he asked, looking round vainly for a fit place.
"No place to put 'em, sir," said Porky, "and every time we start to move them, they clutch us and start to scream. As long as we sort of keep 'em hugged up tight, they sleep."
"It's awful—awful!" said the officer. "I wish I knew what to do with them now. There's not an asylum of any sort, not a place fit to leave them within miles and miles, and what's to become of them I don't know. Every orphan asylum in France is crowded."
"Oh, that's all right," said Porky. "We don't intend they shall go to any asylum. Our mother has adopted them."
"Your what?" asked the captain after a prolonged stare.
"Our mother," repeated Porky.
"Your mother has WHAT?" said the captain. "Just repeat it all."
"Our mother has adopted them," said Porky patiently and distinctly. The captain pushed back his cap and stared.
"Where is your mother?" he asked.
"Home," said Porky.
"New York state," added Beany. "She wanted something to remember the war by, so we are going to take her these. She didn't want any German helmets or anything of that sort. She said she didn't want ever to be reminded of helmets, so we will take her these instead."
"But, good heavens!" said the officer. "You ought not do anything like that! She would have to bring them up."
"That's all right, too," said Porky. "Mom has had experience. She has had us, and one of these is a girl. Girls ought to be easier than boys."
"No, she won't mind and, anyhow, we are going to do all the hard work ourselves. Teaching them swimming and baseball and all that."
"The girl will like that," said the officer dryly.
"Course she will!" said Beany, looking proudly down at the future baseballess.
"It's like this," said Porky. "Our people always trust us, and we know it will be all right. I do hope you can fix it for us, Captain."
"It would be a wonderful thing for those poor little orphans," mused the Captain. "But how would you get them home?"
"That's easy," said Porky. "Our time is up pretty soon. You see we were only allowed a limited stay. That was the agreement when we came, and we can take the kids over with us. Won't you please get General Pershing to fix it up for us? There will be some woman on board to tell us what they ought to eat, and when to put 'em to bed and all that."
"It would be a wonderful thing," said the Captain again. "If you are sure about your mother. It's a good deal to wish off on her."
"Feel in my left pocket," said Porky. "Feel that letter? Now take it out and read it. It's all right. She wouldn't mind, and I'm proud of mother's letters."
The Captain drew out the letter which was much thumbed and soiled, and read:
"My own dear boys:
"It was good to hear from you both again after the long time between letters. A whole month, in which we received not so much as a post card. But something told me that you were safe and well, so I did not worry. You know, dears, I am not the worrying kind when it comes to that. Your dad, who boasts continually that he never worries over anything, does all the fussing for the whole family, but as long as he doesn't know it, and we never tell him, why, I suppose it is all right.
"I wrote you a long letter yesterday, telling you all the news of the neighborhood, and this is only a note to acknowledge your letter at once because in my letter I said that we had not heard in a long time.
"Well, dears, it will not be very many weeks now before we will hope to see our boys again. I am counting the very days. I wonder what souvenir of the war you will bring me. It will be something I will love to have, I know, and not a horrid helmet or anything of that sort. Of course the thing I would like best you can't possibly bring me, and that is a house full of those poor pitiful little Belgian refugees. When I think of our big house, this splendid home we have built since you went away, when I think that soon it will be finished, and we will be in it, just we four, I can scarcely bear it. So many little children homeless!
"Well, some day, boys, we must manage to do something for some of those suffering little ones. I know of no other way in which to thank God for our two boys and our many, many blessings. Your father is prospering more and more in his business, and we both feel that we must all four unite in doing for those less fortunate than we.
"However, I know I can't hope for a couple of Belgians just at present. After the war, we will go and collect a few!
"Take care of yourselves always for the sake of the two who love you so well.
"Your always loving
"MOTHER."
"Well, I declare!" said the Captain as he finished the clearly written page.
"Doesn't that about fix it?" asked Porky triumphantly. "Of course these are French, but I guess she won't mind that. They couldn't be worse off in the way of parents or more destitute, no matter what they were."
"Mother will be in her glory," Beany cut in. "I hope they don't get fat before we get them home."
"I should say not! The thinner, the better as far as mother is concerned. She snaked a private right out of the camp hospital last summer and took him home. He had had pneumonia and looked like a sick sparrow. Mother fed him and nursed him and he gained seventeen pounds in three weeks."
"Well, it does beat all!" said the Captain. "Of course, you understand there may be some reason that will make it impossible for you to take these children out of the country."
"All I can say is, there hadn't better be," said Porky, thrusting out his square jaw. "Think I want to give up my kid after it came to me and I lugged it around for an hour?"
"And do you suppose I want anybody but mother and me to bring up this girl?" said Beany, awkwardly hugging the sleeping mite in his arms closer.
"Besides," said Porky, "what about mother! It's up to us to bring her what she likes best, and you read that letter. What she wants is orphans, and she's got to have 'em if we steal 'em! So long as we are around, mother has got to have what she wants."
"I should think that nearly settled it," said the officer. He laughed but there was a queer gleam in his eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. "I am going to report this to the General now," he said. "Of course we cannot take the children with us, and some way must be found of sending them back to headquarters. I don't see just how it is to be done, as it would be a pity to make you go back with them when this trip is only beginning and be a wonderful thing for you."
"No, we hate to lose the trip," said Porky wistfully. "I don't suppose two other Boy Scouts in the whole world ever had such a chance and we sort of earned it."
"Stay here," said the Captain, "and I will be back presently."
He walked away, and the two boys, holding the two children, sat quietly on the old bench planning in low tones for the future.
"This girl is going to be a peach," said Beany proudly. "See the way her hair crinkles up? She is rank dirty, but you wait till mother gets her cleaned up."
"My word!" said Porky. "She's got to be washed before that! Why, they have to have a bath right off as soon as we get hold of a nurse or some woman who understands enough about kids to do it."
"Yes, it's an awful job," said Beany. "All the soap gets in their eyes and nose, and there's the mischief to pay. And I want an expert to wash this kid. It makes their eyes red to get soap in 'em, and I don't want hers spoiled."
"Wonder what their names are," said Porky.
"Oh, they are named all right. I suppose we didn't get 'em soon enough to attend to that, but we can call 'em what we like. Don't you know how it is with a registered dog? Don't you remember the two collies Skippy Fields has, one named Knocklayde King Ben and the other Nut Brown Maiden, and Skippy's folks called 'em Benny and Nutty. I bet they each have about thirteen names apiece, but while I'm bringing her up, this girl's going to be called Peggy."
"And this is Bill," said Porky without the least hesitation. "Bill. Just Bill so you can yell at him good and easy."
They went on planning while behind them, over the soft, uneven ground the staff approached unheard and stood watching the little group.
Presently, still unheard and unnoticed by the boys, they turned away.
"And there are those," said General Pershing solemnly, "who do not believe that a special Providence watches over children! The boys shall take those two orphans home to that good mother of theirs, if it takes an Act of Congress. You say," he continued, talking to the French officer in his own musical tongue, "you say that poor woman said that all her people were gone?"
"All dead, all lost in this war," answered the Frenchman.
"Well, if this was only in a movie show," said the great General, "we would presently see a car headed for the rear, coming around that bend ahead, and we would be able to—well, I declare," he exclaimed, as one of the officers laughed and pointed. "That's positively too much!" as the group laughed with him.
A large car was coming along around the bend, it was headed for the rear, and in the tonneau sat a couple of nurses in their snug caps and dark capes!
The General himself halted it, and in a few words explained the situation. A couple of the officers, accompanied by the nurses, went over to the boys and at once the children, still sleeping the heavy sleep of exhaustion, were transferred to arms more accustomed to holding them, and carried back to the car. Almost before they realized it, the car was off and Porky turned to the General, saluting.
"Out with it, young man," said the kindly General, smiling down into the eager and troubled face.
"We will get 'em back, won't we, sir?" he asked. "They can't work some game on us, so we will lose 'em?"
"We lost a pup that way once," said Beany dolefully, also coming to salute.
"Well, you won't lose your orphans," the General promised. "I wish I could see your mother's face when your little party appears."
"Why, we will write you what she says if you will let us, sir," Porky volunteered.
"She will be crazy over Bill and Peggy," added Beany, looking fondly after the car vanishing with their new possessions.
"Beel ant Pekky!" groaned the Frenchman.
"Wee, Mussoo, we have named them already," said Porky proudly. "We know they have some other names, kind of names, they were registered under, but that kid has to have something easy to yell at him when he makes a home run, and Beany picked on Peggy right off."
"That about settles it," laughed the General. "We must be off if we reach our first sector by nightfall."