“At least I tried to.  But when we came to the bad half mile the car rebelled at going the bit twice in a day, and the motor stalled.  There we were—­eight-forty-five P.M.—­polls due to close at nine—­a year’s imprisonment for five well-meaning boys for neglecting to register.  I was in despair.  Then suddenly one of the boys saw a small red light ahead, the tail light of an automobile.  We ran along and found a big car standing in front of a house.  As we got there, out from the car stepped a woman with a lantern, and as the light swung upward I saw that she was tall and fair and young and very lovely.  She stopped as the six of us loomed out of the darkness.  I knew that a professor from the University in town had taken this house for the summer, but I don’t know the people or their name.  It was no time to be shy.  I gave my name and stated the case.

“The girl looked at me.  ‘I’ve seen you,’ she said.  ’I know you are Mr. McLane.  I’ll drive you across.  One moment, till I tell my mother.’

“She was in the house and out again without wasting a second, and as she flashed into the car I heard a gasp, and I turned and saw in the glare of the headlights as they sprang on one of my Russians, a gigantic youngster of six feet four or so, standing with his cap off and his head bent, as he might have stood before a shrine, staring at the spot where the girl had disappeared into the car.  Then the engine purred and my squad tumbled in.

“We made the polls on the tap of nine.  Afterwards we drove back to my car and among us, with the lantern, we got the motor running again, the girl helping efficiently.  The big fellow, when we told her good-night, astonished me by dropping on his knees and kissing the edge of her skirt.  But I put it down to Slavic temperament and took it casually.  I’ve learned since what Russian depth of feeling means—­and tenacity of purpose.  There was one more incident.  When I finally drove the lads up to their village the big chap, who spoke rather good English when he spoke at all, which was seldom, invited me to have some beer.  I was tired and wanted to get home, so I didn’t.  Then the young giant excavated in his pocket and brought out a dollar bill.

“‘You get beer tomorrow.’  And when I laughed and shoved it back he flushed.  ‘Excuse—­Mr. Sir,’ he said.  ‘I make mistake.’  Suddenly he drew himself up—­about to the treetops, it looked, for he was a huge, a magnificent lad.  He tossed out his arm to me.  ‘Some day,’ he stated dramatically, ’I do two things.  Some day I give Mr. Sir somethings more than dollar—­and he will take.  And—­some day I marry—­Miss Angel!’

“You may believe I was staggered.  But I simply stuck out my fist and shook his and said:  ’Good.  No reason on earth why a fellow with the right stuff shouldn’t get anywhere.  It’s a free country.’  And the giant drew his black brows together and remarked slowly:  ’All countries—­world—­is to be free.  War will sweep up kings—­and other—­rubbish.  I—­shall be—­a man.’