"Oh, cut that out, Uncle," Gilbert implored; but there was a little note of
irritation in his voice. "That's no way to talk of a guest under our roof."

"I won't neither cut nothin' out! An' you make me sick too, you gol darn
fool!"

"For the love of Mike, quit your babbling! Sssh!"

"Don't you shush me, gol darn it!" cried Uncle Henry, crumpling the
newspaper in his hand and throwing it on the floor. The heat was affecting
him. "I've kep' still long enough, an'--"

"Oh, have you?" Gilbert smiled.

"--an' I'm goin' to find out what's what!" Uncle Henry went on, as though
he had not been interrupted.

"You act as though I were to blame for what's happened," his nephew said.
He saw it would do no good to lose his temper.

"Well, ain't you? Why did you want to go to war in the first place? Why,
why?" He pounded the arm of his chair. "That's what started it."

"Well, somebody had to go," Gilbert answered, smiling. "If some of us
hadn't taken things in our hands, I don't know what would have become of
Democracy!"

Uncle Henry pondered a moment. "Mebbe so. But you didn't have to go."
Gilbert had risen to get a match, and his uncle's eye followed him to the
mantel-piece. He spoke to the back of his head. "You could have claimed