“And me?  Say, I tell you something.  If any one say I ain’t good American I tell you this:  I stand by America like I was born here.  I stand by her if she fight Germany just as if she fight France.  I stand by her in war, and I do more than that.  You listen!  Now comes it they say the country’s goin’ to be dry and put me out of business.  What you think of that, hey?  So they will shut booze joints like that feller McCarron runs, and even a nice place like this.  So you can’t buy a glass beer or a schoppen Rhine wine.  What you think?  Mebbe it’s all talk, mebbe not.  But listen!  This is my country, no matter what she does; I stand by her if she fights Germany to death; and by God, I stand by her if she goes dry!  Could I say more? Prosit!”

CHAPTER XVI

The next day Wilbur Cowan sought Sharon Whipple with the news that he meant to do a bit of plain fighting overseas.  He found the old man in the stable, in troubled controversy with a rebellious car.  He sat stonily at the wheel and at intervals pressed a determined heel upon a self-starter that would whir but an impotent protest.  He glared up at Wilbur as the latter came to rest beside the car.

“Well, what now?” He spoke impatiently.

“I’m going to enlist; I thought I would tell you.”

Sharon pointed the heavy brows at him with a thumb and uttered a disparaging “Humph!” Then he appeared to forget the announcement, and pressed again on the self-starter, listening above its shrill song for the deeper rumble of the engine.  This did not ensue, and he shifted his heel, turning a plaintive eye upon the young man.

“She don’t seem to excite,” he said.  “I’ve tried and tried, and I can’t excite her.”

It was an old, old story to Wilbur Cowan.

“Press her again,” he directed.  Sharon pressed and the other raptly listened.  “Ignition,” he said.

He lifted the hood on one side and with a pair of pliers manipulated what Sharon was never to know as anything but her gizzard, though the surgeon, as he delicately wrought, murmured something about platinum points.

“Try her!” Sharon tried her.

“Now she excites!” he exploded, gleefully, as the hum of the motor took up the shrill whir of the self-starter.  He stopped the thing and bent a reproachful gaze upon Wilbur.

“Every one else leaving me—­even that Elihu Titus.  I never thought you would, after the way we’ve stood together in this town.  I had a right to expect something better from you.  I’d like to know how I’m goin’ to get along without you.  You show a lot of gratitude, I must say.”

“Well, I thought—­”

“Oh, I knew you’d go—­I expected that!”

“Yes, sir,” said Wilbur.

“You wouldn’t been any good if you hadn’t.  Even that Elihu Titus went.”

“Yes, sir,” said Wilbur.  He had been waiting to ask Sharon’s opinion about the only troubling element in his decision.  This seemed the moment.  “You don’t suppose—­you don’t think perhaps the war will be stopped or anything, just as I get over there?”