That rotten little newspaper in Bridgeboro had a big headliner about me disappearing--'_never seen after leaving Camp Dix; whereabouts a mystery_'-- that's what it said, '_son of Professor Donnelle_.' What'd you think of that ?" I told him I was mighty sorry for him, and I was, too.
Then he said how he went to New York in those old rags, and tried not to see anybody he knew and even he hid his face when he saw Mr.Cooper on the train.

And then he telephoned out to Bridgeboro and Little Valley and made believe he was somebody else, and said he heard the houseboat was for sale and in that way he found out about his father loaning it to our troop, and how we were probably anchored near St.
George at Staten Island.

Oh, boy, didn't he hurry up to get there, because he was afraid we might be gone.
So then he waited till night and he was just wondering whether it would be safe to wait till we were all asleep and then sneak onto the boat, when all of a sudden he saw the fellows coming ashore and he got near and listened and he heard them speak about going to the movies, and he heard one fellow say something about how Roy would be sorry he didn't come.

And do you want to know what he told me?
This is just what he said; he said, "When I heard your name was Roy, I knew you'd be all right--see?
Because look at Rob Roy," he said; "wasn't he a bully hero and a good scout and a fellow you could trust with a secret--wasn't he ?" That's just what he said.

"You take a fellow named Roy," he said, "and you'll always find him true and loyal." He said there was a fellow named Roy on the West Front and he gave up his life before he'd tell on a comrade.
Then he said, "You see how it is with me, Skeezeks, I'm in a peck of trouble and I've got to get those army duds on and toddle back to camp as soon as I can get there and face the music.