"Will you wear a uniform?" asked Louise.

"Why, certainly," said Harold, swelling out his chest at the thought.

"I wish I could enlist," sighed Bob.

"You're too young, I told you," said Harold scornfully.

"I'll bet I could fight as well as you could," said Bob stoutly.
"Besides, I'm big for my age and maybe if I told them I was older than I
really am they might take me."

"Don't do that, Bob," said his father earnestly. "Don't lie about it."

"They'd find you out anyway," exclaimed Harold. "You can't fool these
recruiting officers."

"I'd like to get to France and see the trenches, and see the soldiers,
and the guns, and the fighting," Bob insisted.

"Do you realize that Harold may never get to France even if he does
enlist and get a commission?" remarked Mr. Cook.

"Why not?"

"First of all on account of Mexico."

"Do you think the Mexicans will make trouble?" inquired Harold.