himself up when he saw little Billy sitting on the camp-stool staring at vacancy.
"Hello!" he cried. What kind of a picnic is this? If my nose ain't gone and forgot her manners, I smell cake." He paused and looked at little Billy. Seeing that the lad was troubled about something, he lowered his voice. "What 's the matter, old man? If it 's trouble, it 'll do you more good to talk about it than to think about it."
For answer, little Billy held out the letter. Private Chadwick took it and began to read it. Then he held it close to his eyes.
"Now, this is right down funny," he said, "and it 's just like a gal. She 's gone and scratched out the best part." Little Billy neither moved nor spoke, but turned inquiring eyes on his patron and friend. "She began it 'Dear Little Billy,'" Private Chadwick continued, "and then she went and scratched it out."
It was a very fortunate stroke indeed. The color slowly came back into little Billy's face and stayed there. After Private Chadwick had read the letter, little Billy took it and gave it a careful inspection. His face was so full of color at what he saw that a stranger would have said he was blushing.
