“I think it’s glorious!” breathed Laura.

“So do I,” agreed Belle heartily; “though, like Dave, I should think the Navy would be the more attractive.”

“Oh, the Navy is all right,” gibed Dick.  “It would never suit me, though.  You see, a fellow in the Navy has nothing to do but ride into a fight on board a first-class ship.  It’s too much like being a Cook’s tourist war time.  Now, any Army officer, or a private soldier, for that matter, has to depend upon his own physical exertions to get him into the fight.”

“And an Army fellow,” twitted Dave, “if he finds the fight too hard for him, can always dig a hole and hide in it.  But where can a naval officer hide?”

“Oh, he has it easy enough, anyway, hiding behind armor plate,” scoffed Dick.

“Of one thing I feel certain, anyway,” said Laura thoughtfully.  “You are both of you cut out for the military life.  Under the most fearful conditions I don’t believe either one of you would ever show the white feather.”

“I don’t know,” replied Dick gravely.  “Neither one of us has ever been tested sufficiently.  But I hope you’re right, Laura.  I’d sooner be dead, at this instant, than to feel that my cowardice would ever throw the slightest stain on the grand old Flag.  I try to be generous in my opinions of others.  I think I can stand almost any man except—–­the coward!”

“I’m not a bit afraid of either one of you, on that score,” broke in Belle warmly.

“That’s very kind of you,” nodded Dave.  “But of course you don’t know any more about our bravery than we do ourselves.  It has never been proven.”

“How many young men have been killed in football this year?” asked Laura quietly.

“I think the paper stated, the other day, that it was something more than forty,” replied Dick.

“Well, don’t you two play football,” demanded Laura.  “Don’t you both jump into the crush as fearlessly as anyone, Doesn’t it take about as much nerve to play fast and furious football as it does to fight on the battlefields Isn’t football, in its hardest form, a great training for the soldiers”

“Oh, perhaps,” laughed Dick.  “For that matter, Laura, I believe you could soon talk me into believing that I’m braver than good old Phil Sheridan!”

“Hullo,” muttered Dave suddenly.   “What-----”

“Where’s the crowd rushing!” demanded Belle, in the same breath.

“There’s some trouble down the street!” cried Darrin.  “And smoke, too.”

“It’s a fire!” cried Dick, wheeling about.  “Come along—–­all!”

As the girls started to scurry down the street Dick caught Laura’s nearer arm to aid her.  Dave did as much for Belle.

These four young people were among the first hundred and fifty to gather on the sidewalk before a store and office building that was on fire.

It was a five story building.  Fire had started in back on the second floor.  Originating in offices empty at the time, the blaze had gained good headway ere it was discovered.  It had eaten up to the third and fourth floors, and was now sweeping frontward.  On the third floor the heat had cracked the window glass, and the air, rushing in, had fanned up a brisk blaze.  Flames were beginning to shoot out their fiery tongues through these third story windows.