“I wish we could get started,” worried Mollie, looking out upon the sodden landscape.  The rain was apparently coming down just as hard as ever.  “I hate to leave the car all by itself out there.  Somebody might steal it.”

“I wish I knew where that man was,” said Grace nervously.  “I never trust strange men.  He may set the house on fire for all we know.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth when the door opened and the topic of conversation himself entered, carrying a tray so big and heaped so high with sandwiches that one could scarcely discover the man behind it.

Betty and Amy ran to his assistance, and between them they got the tray safely to the bench.  In one delighted glance the girls saw that not only sandwiches, but a steaming pot of coffee and the remains of what had been a great, three-layer chocolate cake were on the tray.

At thought of the fussy little man taking all this time and trouble, for it must have taken a good deal of work to make all that formidable array of sandwiches—­ the girls were sincerely touched and regarded their host with a new interest.

“There, there,” he was saying, regarding the heaped-up tray with evident pleasure, “you must sit down and eat at once.  You must be nearly starved—­ famished.  I hope this will be enough.”

He looked at them so anxiously that Betty felt like hugging him—­ and nearly did it.

“Enough!  Well, I guess it is enough,” she said heartily, as the other girls seated themselves on the bench either side of the tempting tray and began enthusiastically to help themselves.  “It would be plenty for an army.  We can’t thank you enough.”

“Indeed we can’t,” added Mollie.

“It’s awfully good of you,” said Grace, as she took a bite of her ham sandwich.

“Awfully good,” added Amy, like an echo.

The little man waved aside their thanks and drew up the one chair in the room, talking all the time in his quick, jerky fashion.

“It was no trouble, I am sure,—­ no trouble whatever,” he said, adding as though he wished to change the subject:  “You didn’t tell me your name——­” he hesitated, looking at Betty, who of course did tell him her name on the spot.  This proved a signal for mutual introductions, and the girls learned that their new friend was a college professor, Arnold Dempsey by name.  They also learned that he had taken up woodcraft in the hope of recovering his health.

And while they contentedly munched sandwiches and sipped steaming coffee the girls learned a good deal more about Arnold Dempsey, and the more they learned of him the more they felt drawn to him.

And when he started to tell them of his two sons who had fought so nobly in the army of democracy, their eyes began to shine and they leaned toward him with an interest that was intensely real.

“Oh, it must be wonderful to have two big soldier sons,” cried Amy, forgetting her shyness in her enthusiasm.  “Aren’t you dreadfully proud?”