Hitting the Mark "May I ask for what purpose, really, are you going to 'phone?" Rose Thompson asked. "I told your mother what for, didn't I?" Herb replied. "I know; yes. But your real reason?" "Great Jehoshaphat! If you don't want me to use it I can get one next door, perhaps, or somewhere." "No; use this one. But I have asked you a question. Now please answer. I want to know very much, indeed, and I know you will not refuse me." "Won't I? There must be many a thing that you want to know right badly and can't. Well, I will use your 'phone as it's getting late." He had glanced at the hall clock. "That clock is fast, very!" the girl declared. "And I must know. I must!" She had interposed herself between Herbert and the 'phone and she looked very determined. "Now, see here, Miss Thompson, you can hear me talk, can't you? I don't like to scrap with women, but I know my orders. Come, let me have that 'phone, or I'll have to take it, anyway." She had put her hand against his breast and held him back. "When you tell me." "To see when we are to return, I said. The captain told me to call him up about it." "But that is not all. Tell me." Evidently she was playing for time. "Oh, nonsense! Let me have that 'phone." And with a quick dive past her he did get it, and though she caught the cord and pulled it violently once, he held receiver and mouth-piece firmly in place. "Give me the camp, please; Company H Barracks. Yes.—Captain Leighton? Whitcomb.—Return when?—Yes, we're all here.—It was indeed a dandy dinner!—I understand.—Yes.—Right away.—All right." He hung up the receiver. "I suppose now, you are satisfied, Miss Thompson." The girl hesitated a moment, thinking, staring at him. "I think I am. And I think you are anything but a gentleman!" Suddenly she darted forward and dashed into the dining-room, Herb following with long strides. "Yes, mother!" she exclaimed. The hostess gave Herbert a look of such mingled hate and fear that had he been less immune would have turned him cold. She struck the table bell and turned toward the kitchen door. It opened to admit only a broad, very blonde face. "Gretchen, you know my orders! At once; then remain! Laura, our hats and dusters! Rose, the suitcases are ready!" Herbert knew that Rose had seen through his message and he surmised at once that all this had been planned ahead with German thoroughness, in case of failure to entirely convince all the guests. Perhaps it was the woman's first attempt at sowing discontent among the soldiers; perhaps the first of any of such bold attempts. He saw that, with a good start in the powerful car which they had, the Thompsons Perhaps the authorities would not even wish to detain the woman, but at any rate the boy resolved to see to it that Captain Leighton could come into touch with the situation, first hand. To carry out this determination there was but one logical thing to do and to do quickly. Herbert stood in the archway as Rose and Laura faced him. His service revolver, all the while in its holster under his coat, now was in his hand. "The first person, except as ordered, who makes even an attempt to leave or enter this room will be shot; man or woman! Flynn, slip out and tell the servants this; then go watch for Captain Leighton, who will soon be here! The Thompson car, Bartlett; you go out and hold that! Newlin, you remain where you are; perhaps the captain may want to question you! You other fellows, go out of each of those other doors and lock them outside; then wait for the captain!" Mrs. Thompson sank into a chair, her eyes, in fear, glaring at Herbert. Laura, in "This is a nice return for our hospitality! I think I could kill you!" "Don't do it, please." He smiled. "I want to get a whack at your dear friends over in Germany first." "Huh! They'll eat you up!" Rose retorted. "They'll——" "They are not our friends——" wailed Mrs. Thompson, who was evidently not equal to this phase of the situation. "Mother, hush! Don't be a coward! And don't lie! What if they are? We have a right to do as we please. Have what friends we wish. You coward, to threaten women!" she suddenly flashed out at Herbert. "But, pshaw! I'm not afraid of you. And I am going out that door! We all are! This is our house! Stand aside! Do you hear?" Herbert merely shook his head. "I'm going out, I tell you! You won't dare to shoot! Poof! I'm not afraid of you, I guess! You would not dare to threaten men this way! But women—oh, you think you're very safe! Come, let me pass!" "Look here, Miss Thompson, if you think I like this business, you get another think. But I know my duty just the same. And, honestly, you won't look half as nice laid out in a coffin, not even with a million flowers, as you do now. So don't tempt me to use this gun, for I will if you get gay!" "I dare you!" the girl shouted. "Well, if you really want to see how it feels to have a bullet go plowing through your anatomy, just make a dive for that doorway. Go ahead and try it." With a hand that wavered not in the least he leveled the pistol barrel straight at her. For one moment the girl stood irresolute, bravely weighing the chances. Then a wail from her mother and a cry of alarm from one of the other girls who thought she was going to start checked her. She stepped back and sank into a chair. There came the opening and slamming of the front door, heavy footfalls, and Captain In twenty minutes the captain had heard Herbert's story, listened to Rose Thompson's impassioned admissions and Mrs. Thompson's weak effort at defense, and had disposed of the matter. "General Harding is away and I am ordered to take care of this case. Good work on your part, Whitcomb. We have suspected Mrs. Thompson, nÉe Heinig, of duplicity before. In the pay of German agents, no doubt. Well, Mrs. Thompson, we don't care to war on women. We can advise you, however, to cut out this sort of thing; or later, as certain as death, it will mean a long prison sentence. You will be closely watched from this on. You may go free now, but must break up and leave here at once. I have no doubt the State Department would recommend you for passports through Holland, if you would like to return to Germany and we surely would be glad to have you go. Now, men, all fall in and we shall return to camp." As Herb passed out he summoned one more spark of courage to address Rose Thompson, who was glaring at him. "You have your nerve, all right, but not Camp life went along the same routine: drill and practise and study. Herbert and Roy heard nothing more about the dinner incident, except that the captain once told Sergeant Jenkins who told Corporal Hern who told Roy that Mrs. Thompson and her daughters had, indeed, sailed for the other side, to what part and ultimate destination were not known. Just prior to drill one morning Captain Leighton sent for Herbert. "I want you to keep this under your hat," he said. "There is a call for expert shots to form several snipers' platoons, or perhaps companies, as yet uncertain as to numbers. Other camps are trying out men and we have picked some few here. The general remembers you as having been recommended in this particular and I am to try you out. You are excused from drill, so report at the range in half an hour." "How about Flynn? He can shoot," Herb said. "Can? Tell Lieutenant Mitchell to excuse Flynn from drill also. We'll find out what you boys can do." The Brighton lads naturally thought this would be a simple test of their own shooting before the captain only, but when they crossed the field to the meadow that faced the wide targets and pits they saw a dozen men already there and soon discerned several officers and the commander himself. As they stepped up to the group and saluted, General Harding greeted Herb and Roy almost jocosely. "Ha! Ready to bat some more balls over the net, eh, Whitcomb? I hear you made some rapid returns and good placement shots down at Mrs. Thompson's not long ago. Now we are going to find out if you can really shoot as well as you play tennis." The boys observed that all the other marksmen were lying flat, some with head, some with feet toward the target and they were seeking every means to rest their rifles steadily, to set telescope sights just so, to get their elevations of rear sight perfectly and then to delay shooting until satisfied as to every condition. Herb was assigned a place and a target at two hundred yards; just behind him stood a Tallied scores were being shown the officers, and they paid very little attention to any one in particular. But Roy, standing back of Herb, said: "The general keeps looking this way; got his eye on you, me boy. There goes your fresh target up; now give it to her! With that size bull's-eye it's a cinch." Herb brought his gun to his shoulder and, standing, fired five shots in rapid succession, hardly four seconds apart. Then, slipping in another clip, he repeated even a little more quickly. After a few moments a big letter "P" was shoved up in front of the target, the marker, evidently having some difficulty in finding it, as perfect scores were indeed a rarity, even on a twelve-inch bull's-eye. "Here comes the general and the whole bunch almost on a trot. The old man saw you do that!" announced Roy, and in a moment the commander had his hand on Herb's shoulder, though he was talking fast to the other officers: "Saw it all. Done standing. Quick work, Herbert nodded. "That's not remarkable; so can Flynn here. With practice 'most anybody ought to." "But they can't! Few can. Now, do you think you could impart the knowledge; teach something of the skill you have in shooting? Because if you can we shall make you both instructors. What do you think about it?" |