"What do you think about the United States building a big navy, John?"
he asked casually.

Stealthy footsteps rustled without.

"Fine!" said Pringle. "I'm strong for it. We want dreadnoughts, and
lots of 'em--biggest we can build. But that ain't all. When we make
the navy appropriations we ought to set by about fifty-some-odd
million and build a big multiple-track railroad, so we can carry our
navy inland in case of war. The ocean is no place for a battleship
these days."

"Stop your kidding!"

"I'm not kidding," said John Wesley indignantly. "I never was twice as
serious in my whole life. My plan is sound, statesman-like--"

"Shut up, you idiot! I want to read."

"Oh, very well, then! I'll grind the coffee."

Men crept close to the open door on each side of the kitchen. Stella
slipped a pan of biscuits in the oven; she laid the table briskly,
with a merry clatter of tinware; her face was cheerful and unclouded.
The Major leaned back in one chair, his feet on another; he was deep
in the paper; he puffed his pipe. John Wesley Pringle twirled the
coffee mill between his knees and sang a merry tune:

_"There were three little mice, playing in the barn--
Inky, dinky, doodum, day!