which would have induced strangulation in their young brothers. The
amateur sweater of those days was, in fact, practically tantamount to
German propaganda.

Peter and James were accordingly baffled. One evening the sweater would
look small, and James would come away jubilant; the next it would have
swollen over a vast area, and Peter would walk home singing. The
suspense of the two men can readily be imagined. On the one hand, they
wanted to know their fate; on the other, they fully realized that
whoever the sweater was for would have to wear it. And, as it was a
vivid pink and would probably not fit by a mile, their hearts quailed
at the prospect.

In all affairs of human tension there must come a breaking point. It
came one night as the two men were walking home.

"Peter," said James, stopping in mid-stride. He mopped his forehead.
His manner had been feverish all the evening.

"Yes?" said Peter.

"I can't stand this any longer. I haven't had a good night's rest for
weeks. We must find out definitely which of us is to have that
sweater."

"Let's go back and ask her," said Peter.

So they turned back and rang the bell and went into the house and
presented themselves before Miss Forrester.