“Of course you will, old fellow, and I’ll go along with you.”

They fell asleep.

Both lads were awakened by the sound of a commotion without.  They jumped out of bed.  It was broad daylight of the first day of January, 1919.

“Still celebrating the new year, I guess,” said Frank.  “Remember we heard ’em shooting before we went to bed?”

Jack nodded.

Frank went to the window and stuck his head out.  Instantly there was a wild yell outside.  Frank drew his head hurriedly back again.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know,” said Frank.  “There is a whole gang of fellows out there and they all seem to be crazy about something.”

Jack had a faint suspicion.  He crossed to the window and looked out.

Again a yell went up, followed by a cry from many throats: 

“We want Frank!”

Even Frank heard this.  His face turned red and he began to act flustered.

“Some of the fellows know I’m home, I guess,” he said.

“That’s what’s the matter, all right,” Jack agreed.  “Better show yourself again.”

“Wait till I get some clothes on and I’ll go down and see ’em,” said Frank.

“They’ll probably want you to make a speech,” Jack suggested.

Frank was alarmed.

“Speech?” he repeated.  “I can’t make a speech.”

“Oh, yes you can.  You don’t mean to tell me that a fellow who has done what you have—­who has talked with kings and czars—­is afraid to talk to some of his old friends and companions?”

“That’s different,” declared Frank.

Jack smiled.

“I catch your point, and maybe you’re right,” he admitted.  “However, you’ll have to do it.”

“I suppose I shall,” said Frank with a sigh, “so the sooner I get it over with the better.”

He led the way downstairs and on to the front porch.  Jack stepped forward close beside him.  Again there was a wild cheer from many throats.

Both lads still wore their British uniforms, and they both presented a manly and handsome appearance as they stood there on the front porch of Frank’s home.

“Hello, Frank!” “Glad to see you back!” “Are you going to stay here?” “Tell us about yourself.”

These were some of the cries hurled at the lad.

Frank’s face turned red and he would have turned away had not Jack’s stalwart frame stayed him.

“Speech!  Speech!” came the cry.

The hubbub increased.

“I can’t do it, Jack!” Frank exclaimed.

“Oh, yes you can,” replied his chum.  “I’ll help you.”

He raised his right hand for silence, still keeping his left tightly on Frank’s shoulder, for the latter showed signs of bolting at the first opportunity.  Instantly the shouting died away and the crowd of young fellows waited expectantly.

“I just want to introduce my friend,” said Jack smiling.  “Lieutenant Chadwick, gentlemen, of His British Majesty’s service, though an American citizen, and a good one at that.  Lieutenant Chadwick will be glad to say a few words to you.”