In Tours another letter came from Leon. That man was likely to have us both hung before another month was out! What did he do now but run right into Jay-Jay, and the latter welcomed him with open arms:—

“I told him he must have the wrong man, because I had never seen him before in my life, but that didn’t impress him at all. He insisted that I show him my pass and then that I accompany him. I didn’t know where he was going—I thought at first he was taking me to an M.P., but we walked past a million M.P.’s and finally ended in a dirty flat in a dirty building, and he told me to make myself at home.

“We had a smoke and then he said, ‘Now, listen to me.... I know there’s a pair of twins by the name of Canwick running around loose through the A.E.F. and I’m going to find out which of them is which. One of them’s a girl, and that’s the one I want—get me?’

“I just laughed at him and repeated that ‘My name isn’t Canwick—it’s Lane.’

“‘I don’t care a damn what you say your name is: I know you two are twins and one of you is a girl.... Now, which one is it?’

“‘Pardon me, sir,’ I said, ‘but you haven’t been around where the big guns go off, have you?... I mean, is it the kind of shell-shock that makes them violent?’

“Oh, but he was mad, and the madder he got the more I laughed at him, the prime egg!

“He said a lot of nasty things and finally went into another room and came out with a gun in his hand. ‘Now,’ he commands. ‘You strip!’

“I naturally indulged in laughter. This impossible affair sounded like some kind of a comic opera.

“But he meant business and said so. I honestly think he’s a little bit off in the cockloft.

“Fearing that he might get really careless with the firearm, I decided to humor him—so I stripped, but by the time I had removed my blouse and shirt, he was beginning to lose his confidence. I asked him if that was enough, but he insisted that I should strip.

“Well, you can imagine how I felt—although it really struck me as a huge joke on him.

“Instead of being disappointed, however, he seemed to be reassured for he said, ‘I knew it! I knew that sergeant was her.... I should have known as soon as I saw her with that Captain....’

“I stopped in my dressing to laugh at him—which made him mad again. ‘Your sister will laugh, too!’ he stormed at me. ‘She thinks she’s pretty wise, but she’s not fooling me again!... And I can make it rather pleasant for that Captain, too!’ The son-of-a-gun actually smiled. He surely thinks he’s going to do something wonderful for somebody—and I don’t think it’s you.

“So it appears that we are in a fix. He’s obviously a little cracked, but we can’t take advantage of that fact without giving ourselves away. I don’t know what we can do—do you? I told him I was leaving Paris to-morrow and going to Toul—which, of course, is not true. I’ll be here almost a week, and I only hope we don’t meet again.

“But what will we do? If he finds you again, the jig will surely be up.... I’ll do anything I can to help: I’m even considering the desirability of bashing him over the head with a bottle—but then he’d doubtless recover.... So what’ll I do?

Well, what in the devil could be done? It seemed that sooner or later someone was bound to find out about me. Old Pierre had probably told someone about me already—although there was just a chance that no one would believe him anyway. Jay-Jay, however, could do anything he liked. If we met and I did not talk turkey to him, he’d probably go straight to the General or somebody in authority and have me dragged up on the carpet. And if there was anything that would look funny, it would be me, posing in the nude before the General.... Once more—I wished to Gawd I’d stayed at home and let this damned old war take care of itself. I was dizzy from thinking about it.... And I knew exactly what that evil-minded devil thought: that the Captain was in on the secret and that it naturally followed that we were having a good time by ourselves. The dirty envious skunk!

Well, anyway, we were off to Paris again next day—and nature and fate would just have to take their courses. I was about ready to give up.

I didn’t have a chance to find Leon, but Ben and I bumped into Captain Winstead outside the Intelligence office, while we were waiting for the General.

You could have knocked Ben over with a feather when the Captain rushed up to me and gave me a real warm greeting. I introduced my companion and the Captain laughed, “Yes, I’ve heard about you, I believe.... You haven’t tried ravishing any more beautiful Parisians, have you?” The Captain smiled at him sympathetically.

Ben grimaced, but admitted that “That woman sure did set me on fire!”

“She set them all on fire,” declared the Captain. “It was a cinch. These American officers just toppled over like stalks of grain before a mowing machine.... But she won’t cut down any more of them for a while.”

“Why not?” demanded Ben. “Somebody beat her up?”

“No—no—” And the Captain explained about the Madame then. “She had been operating here in Paris for more than three years and the French had been unable to get a thing on her.... We tried and found enough to arouse our suspicions, but she was too clever to fall for any of our decoys. She ruined one of our best men: we set him on her trail and damned if he didn’t come back ten days later to report that he was convinced she was on the level and that he intended to marry her! We sent him away for a rest.... Then we set up the sergeant here, hoping that his boyishness would intrigue her—and it did.... On the basis of information the sergeant obtained, we built up a case against her, located and identified her accomplice who was masquerading as an army chaplain, even to taking the name of a chaplain from Kentucky who has never been in Paris at all but is on the books as being in France.... And we gave the facts to the French and let them put her away.... She is not an American, although she must have spent a good many years there. She’s a German by birth and her maid is probably German. The chaplain is known to the French service and was identified by the finger prints on an envelope which the sergeant managed to acquire. The money was coming to this chaplain from England and Holland and being turned over to the Madame through the maid, who was supposed to be in love with this chaplain.... A very pretty mess altogether, and we’re obliged to this young fellow for our success in catching them.”

“What will happen to them?” I asked. “Will they shoot the Madame?”

“Nobody knows,” he replied. “But I doubt if they do. The Allies are on the go now. We’ve a preponderance of man power and equipment. It’s just a matter of time before Hindenburg and Ludendorff will be beaten under.... So perhaps our friend, the Madame, will be spared. If she had been caught a year ago, there’d be no question about her end. It makes all the difference in the world who’s winning the war, you know.”

Just then the General appeared and the Captain said, “What’s on for to-night? Why don’t the two of you come along over to my place and we’ll hunt up some excitement. I’ve been working hard and need a little relaxation—and besides, you haven’t told me anything about your sister.”

I said, “All right—at seven, then,” and he saluted and left us, just as the General got in the car.

Chilblaines wanted to know if that was the man who was supposed to be so clever and the General told him it was. “One of the best men we’ve got in France,” explained the General. “And a good looking, upstanding officer at that.”

When we were alone, Ben wanted to know how come: “What’s the idea of a Captain wantin’ to go on a party with two common bums like us?”

“He’s a friend of my sister’s,” I explained. “And a darned good sport.... He’ll be in civies probably, so we won’t feel uncomfortable.... And he knows all the dives in Paris, Ben.”

That of course was good news to Ben, and he was all shaved and brushed up, ready to go long before I was.

The Captain liked his wine and his women—and I can’t say that I appreciated the latter. He wanted to make love to every good looking woman that came along—and I could dig their eyes out!... To-night we were sitting in a buvette, just starting the evening, and after he and Ben had consumed about a dozen drinks, they got really friendly and the Captain began to rave to him about me.

“Have you ever seen Canwick’s sister, Ben?” he asked. “Boy, she’s a whole art museum! Perfectly beautiful, Ben—perfectly beautiful!... And she looks enough like Canwick to let anyone know they’re twins.... Why, anyone that didn’t know them couldn’t tell the difference between them.... How about that, Sergeant: I’ll wager your nurse used to have to lift your dresses to make sure which was which.”

Ben looked kinda funny for a moment, but he was feeling too good to be very suspicious about anything, and when I laughed at the Captain’s crazy remarks, he joined in and socked me on the back so hard I almost swallowed my teeth.... I was thinking fast, however, because I knew Ben would have to be told something sometime soon, and as soon as I had an opportunity I explained him to hurriedly, “We’re not twins at all, Ben—we’re triplets: Leonard and I and the girl he’s been raving about, but he doesn’t know anything about Leonard, so please don’t say anything about him.”... He winked understandingly and I told myself that I had successfully crossed another bridge.

After this when the Captain got going on his favorite subject, I just winked at Ben and didn’t worry.... God, I hoped nothing else happened: pretty soon we’d be a sextet!

Another party with the Captain. He thought Ben’s the best entertainment he’d had in a long time, and Ben just lapped up appreciation. The two of them got plastered to the eyes and thought they owned the city.

This night we went to what was supposed to be the wildest show in Paris and I was forced to sit between those two and listen to Ben’s barbaric comments being echoed and approved by the Captain, who approved not only because of Ben’s funny cracks, but also because he liked some of those sensuous looking creatures who paraded across the stage in their birthday suits.

When a big-tummied blonde made her appearance, Ben piped up, “Pull in yer belt there, Blondy!” and everyone laughed at him, so he added, “This is a burlesque show, not a baby farm!”

People all over the house heard him and applauded, and the Captain said, “You tell ’em, Ben.... We want to see a few little ones.”

“Look at the hips on ’at one with the black hair—the second one from the end!” Ben observed a little later. “Looks just like a lollypop to me, Captain!”

“Built for comfort and speed,” laughed the Captain. “How much you bid for it, Ben?”

“If ye’re sure she’s in first class runnin’ order, Captain, I’d ’low about ten sous fer that on a good night!”

“How much on the one in the middle of the second row?”

“Aw, I wouldn’t give her standin’ room in a bed!” declared Ben. “Breastworks like the defenses of Verdun ... too big fer this boy. I don’t like beeg women!... Eh, Leony?”

“I’ve never seen one yet you wouldn’t take!” I told him dryly.

But he missed the crack and continued his raving. He spied a little red-headed pony and went into ecstasies, ending with, “Home was never like this!”

I had to laugh with them. Home surely never was like this. Why, you could be arrested in America for just thinking about seeing a show like this.

It all got my goat. Captain Winstead was too darned adaptable: he could make himself at home in the rottenest places, just as easily as he did in the best of society.

We ended the evening at a cabaret where the cigarette girls wore nothing but loin cloths and the entertainers wore nothing at all and came right down beside our table to dance and make eyes at my companions and me.... I hadn’t any liking for that kind of stuff. If the women were beautiful it would be different. But they weren’t: most of them were homely as sin, with breasts that could whack on their knees or tummies that hung down like big bags of meal. They all looked the worse for wear—I guess it was too much to expect anything different from women who’d had to entertain a half dozen different visiting armies since this war started. I didn’t see how they could have any shape or kick or anything else left.

The Captain said Ben was too drunk to think about women when they finally got around to dating up any, so I got them out and took them home. The Captain said I was a good man to have around, just for that purpose.

He must have been working terribly hard, for he hadn’t relaxed enough yet. For the next night we planned going on an apartment party with some half-decent mademoiselles. I wasn’t very crazy about it, but I thought I’d better go to look after them. So far the Captain had just talked—maybe if I was around he’d manage to stay inside the line. I hoped so.... It would utterly disgust me to find him really going with any of those dirty women. Those mademoiselles were community property, and I should think a man would feel about as happy over using one of them as he would over using a toothbrush that had been used by a thousand other men. I could understand Ben: he was just an animal when it came to that. But I should think a man like the Captain would be interested only in exclusive, more or less virginal women.

Well, we had a fiasco that evening, and bad news next morning, for Jay-Jay called upon Captain Winstead and made a lot of insinuations when the Captain told him he didn’t know where I was or would be. The Captain asked me why “that fellow Marfield is so anxious to find you,” but I got out of it by saying that my sister had thrown him over and he was mad “because she won’t write to him.”

Then at night that crazy devil suggested a strip poker game and the women who were there readily agreed to go through with it—much to the delight of Ben. There were five girls there, and just us three to entertain them, so the Captain thought strip poker was as good a way of doing it as any other—or that’s what he said.

I didn’t have any difficulty making bets, for two of the women promptly decided to make me their prey and every time they had a chance to bet, they insisted upon betting with me. Maybe there isn’t any such thing as love at first sight, but I know for sure that there is such a thing as love-loving women loving to love at first sight. They didn’t make any bones about it at all, and before the game had progressed far these two were actually scrapping about which one was to have me.

And I couldn’t seem to keep out of that game.... I did win several times, and had one of the women down to her chemise, but all the time I was losing, too, first my shoes, then my blouse (when I thanked God for having put on my cast-iron brassiÈre) and then my puttees.

At this point I tried to escape. I told them I didn’t like the game and wouldn’t play any more. But the two birds of prey got a strangle hold on me and I couldn’t get away.

At the very next hand, I lost my breeches, and the two of them sprang to collect their winnings. But I was frantic now and I made a mad lunge through them, grabbed up my shoes and blouse and dashed into the next room, snapping the door lock behind me.

When I was dressed again I listened to their arguments and pleas, but I wouldn’t come out until they promised to count me out of the game. I thought I was all set then.

But such was not the case, for apparently my boyish modesty had just served to arouse some longing in the hearts of these thrill-hardened women. I was taken possession of at once and thereafter throughout the evening I didn’t have a moment to myself: always there was at least one pair of arms around my neck and I was being kissed and caressed until I could have yelled out in an agony of disgust. The party broke up finally when I had to resort to physical force to extricate myself from the very unladylike and intimate embrace of one of my passion-ridden females. I had to do it. If I hadn’t hit her, she’d have known as much about me as I do myself.

Ben gave me hell on the way home. “What’n ’ell’s a matter ’th ya?... Them was all good girls.... What th’ell ya wanta fight for?”

“I don’t like that kind of parties,” I explained.

“Damfidontave my doubts about ya sometimes, Leony,” he declared thickly. “Ya act just like a woman sometimes.”

I didn’t argue with him because I knew he was drunk enough and had had such a good time that he would not let my sad case bother him for long.

Saw Leon for a few minutes next day and talked over our predicament. Neither of us had anything to offer, so we didn’t come to any decision. He was leaving Paris in a couple of days, but I’d see him again before he went.

In view of what happened later, I was glad I was going to see him again, because we simply had to do something. I ran into Jay-Jay and had to duck down an alley and through a haberdashery in order to elude him. He was just like a bad tooth: you forgot about him until he began to hurt again.... Now that he knew I was in Paris he’d be on the watch for me.... I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that I could do, as far as I could see, was tell my troubles to Captain Winstead and let him devise some means of getting rid of Jay-Jay. I was sure the Captain would not try to take advantage of my predicament—but of course I hated to tell him the truth.

However, I made up my mind to do it the first chance I had, so that evening before Ben joined us I tried to lead up to the subject by asking the Captain if he thought it was possible for a woman to disguise herself as a man and get away with it for very long.

He said promptly that it would be exceedingly difficult. “A man can disguise as a woman and go on forever, or until he reaches the morgues, but a woman ... why, you can tell a woman every time. With any cleverness at all, a man can take a wig and a few rags and practice with his voice a while and come out a woman that can pass in any crowd. But a woman is entirely different. You never heard of a great male impersonator, did you? I mean, a woman who became famous because she could make up as a man? No—because, well, you can spot a woman every time, in spite of the most masculine of clothes and manners.”

I had to laugh. This was the man whom General Backett said was one of the “cleverest in France.” But I didn’t forget what I was aiming at, although I couldn’t, for the life of me, see how I could tell him. I just continued the conversation by asking, “What sense would you rely upon to detect a woman in disguise?... Sight, hearing, taste, smell, or touch?”

We both laughed. I guess we were thinking of the same thing. Anyway, he answered me. “Well, of course, I wouldn’t recommend the use of the sense of taste or smell, although doubtless either would prove effective means of discovery. You could not depend upon the sound of the voice. No doubt the sense of touch could be relied upon as the surest method, but then it would be rather a delicate problem to bring about a situation in which you could try out the sense of touch. I mean, if a woman were in disguise she certainly would be careful not to let anyone feel around looking for evidence that would promptly give her away.... I guess the best way—well, you can usually tell a woman by looking at her. I guess the sense of sight is the one we’d have to use.”

“But you couldn’t be sure, just from looking at a woman, could you?”

“Well—it’s a case of the little things counting,” he replied, with a smile. “Sooner or later she would give herself away. We’d just keep our eyes open and see what we would see.”

We didn’t have a chance to continue the discussion nearer the real subject that was on my mind, for at this point Ben appeared and we set off to visit a woman named Fernande, whom the Captain described as second only to Ada Gedouin when it came to “that sensuous loveliness.”

He told Ben to be on his good conduct to-night, “because we can’t tell who is liable to be there. She has some very hoity-toity friends.”

Ben behaved for a while—until the drinks began to function in his anatomy and his brain. I tried all evening to get a few minutes alone with the Captain, but between his fervent attentions to the rather beautiful Fernande and Ben’s disorderly conduct about the place, I didn’t have a chance until we were on our way home, by which time he was the container of such a variety of wines and beverages that he dozed off before I could even begin to talk to him.

Ben finally decided that some sparkling water would revive all of us, so he stopped the cab and went in search of a bottle.... I found the Captain’s head slipping onto my shoulder, and I momentarily forgot what an unpleasant evening I had had. His hair brushed against my cheek and it seemed so natural, such a little thing, that I just couldn’t resist the impulse to brush my lips ever so lightly across his mouth.

“Ah, Fernande!” sighed the Captain, and I could have choked him.

“LEONY!”

I almost fainted dead away from the shock, for there was Ben, back again and with a bottle. He had certainly seen me kiss the Captain.

He climbed into the cab and growled thickly, “Good thing we’re goin’ home. You’re drunker’n a cow’s tail!”

The Captain opened his eyes stupidly and said, “I thought that Fernande was making love to me.”

“Fernande, hell, Cap!” exclaimed Ben. “That was Leony tryin’ to wake ya up.... He’s drunk, an’ ye’re drunk ... an’ I guess I’m the only sober man in the party.”

I saw my way out then, so I began to laugh uproariously, trying to sound as cockeyed drunk as I could. I laughed at Ben when he told the Captain “Leony’s drunker’n a soupbean!” And I laughed when the Captain surveyed me, mockly critical, and voiced his opinion of people “that get drunk all of a sudden without giving any warning.” And I laughed again when Ben bawled me out, saying, “I’m ashamed of ya, Leony. Damfyever thought I’d live to see you in this condishun.”

I laughed so much that the Captain told Ben, as the former was leaving us at his door, “We can’t stand that laugh, Ben. Have to leave him at home after this, I guess.”

On the way home then Ben told me “A man ’t can’t carry his likker like a gentleman ain’t got no business in the comp’ny o’ gentlemen.”

But I didn’t bother to answer him. My throat was dry from the strain of so much laughter and I had had a miserable evening. Ben fell asleep in the cab and I had to slap his face to wake him up when we reached the enlisted men’s hotel where we were stopping.

And now I couldn’t decide whether to tell the Captain or not.... Maybe he’d not love me at all if he knew it was me in these drab O.D. breeches and with the haircut. If I told him, it might spoil everything between us.... And if I didn’t tell him, Jay-Jay would probably spoil me....

The next had certainly been an exciting day, although nothing exciting happened prior to five o’clock, at which hour the General dismissed me for the day. Ben had to wait for the boss, so I set off on foot to go home—and I didn’t get there until eleven at night. What happened between the hours of five and eleven is a story in itself.

It all started with Jay-Jay appearing from nowhere and catching up with me before I even knew he was anywhere around. I couldn’t get away, so I made the best of it and greeted him matter-of-factly.

“I knew I would meet you again, L-e-o-n-a,” he said pleasantly.

“For God’s sake!” I exclaimed. “Are you still out of your head on that subject?”

“Not at all,” he replied cheerfully. “In fact, I’m sure I never was wrong about it. So now, sweetness, what do you intend to do about it?”

“I don’t intend to do anything, you simpleton.” I tried to walk away, but he stuck to me like a leech.

“You may as well stop and talk to me,” he said, “because this time you’re not going to get away.”

I stopped and faced him. “What do you want?” I demanded. “Haven’t you any conscience or shame or anything that normal men have?”

He just smiled superiorly. “My conscience doesn’t bother me in the least, simply because you lied to me and wouldn’t let me in on the secret—for reasons that are now obvious to me.... If you had played square with me, I would have done the same with you, but you preferred to play your game with that tin soldier captain, so now my conscience doesn’t give even a twinge.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted. “What do you expect me to do? What do you want?”

“Oh—nothing much,” he replied with that wise smile that I hated. “Little enough to ask in return for my silence.”

“You’re crazy, Jay-Jay. Honestly, are you shell-shocked or something?”

“Not crazy at all.... I just don’t like these French women, that’s all.... And since you are obliging the Captain you may as well oblige me: do your duty by your country, you know....”

I was furious. I was so mad my mouth chattered and I couldn’t speak at all. If I knew how to hit a man real hard, I’d have killed him on the spot.... The dirty rotten bum!

He knew I was mad, and he, too, lost his temper. “No more evasions or beating around the bush!” he declared. “Are you or are you not coming with me?”

I saw a taxi coming slowly along the street, apparently looking for a fare. I decided to make a break.

“I’ll call an M.P. and have you taken in, if you don’t come,” he was saying.

There was an M.P. not more than a hundred yards away. I couldn’t wait any longer. I drew back and spit in his face as an answer and ducked into the street just in time to get on the running board of the taxi as Jay-Jay called to the M.P. and they started in pursuit.

A few minutes later I landed at the Captain’s and rushed into his room.... And what happened after that can best be told from another point of view.

About five minutes later Jay-Jay appeared at the Captain’s door with an M.P. behind him.

“What’s on your mind?” inquired the Captain pleasantly, looking up from the table on which he was playing rummy with Sergeant Canwick.

“That girl is under arrest,” spluttered Jay-Jay, marching up to the sergeant and seizing his shoulder.

“What girl?” demanded the Captain, in surprise.

“This girl!” retorted Jay-Jay. “We saw her come up here. She’s the one we’re after.”

“Just a minute.... Just a minute, Lieutenant,” the Captain crooned, getting up from his chair and walking around the table. He grasped the hand that held Sergeant Canwick’s shoulder and the hand was removed instantly. “Now ... if you will explain this intrusion in some sensible manner, I will listen. The sergeant happens to be a friend of mine and I feel certain that he has not broken any rules or regulations.... Now, what’s on your mind?”

“Don’t make me laugh, Captain,” replied Jay-Jay with a snarl. “I hate to spoil your little fun.... I believe I could mention a few violations on your own part, if it becomes necessary.”

The Captain laughed. “I pay for the wine I drink, Lieutenant.” Then he turned to the M.P. and asked, in a pleasant voice, “Can you tell me what you’re looking for?”

“Don’t know anything about it, sir,” replied the M.P. “The Lieutenant called me to help chase a man who hopped a taxi and came here. That’s all I know about it, sir.”

“Is this the man?” asked the Captain, indicating the sergeant.

“Can’t prove it by me, sir,” replied the M.P. “All I saw was his back.”

“Of course it’s the man!” Jay-Jay broke in impatiently. “I ought to know. It won’t do any good to equivocate, Captain! You know as well as I what the situation is, and I’m going to see the end of it.”

“Just what is the situation that so needs to be put to an end?” inquired the Captain. “That is, I’d like to know, if you think you can tell me without indulging in any more unpleasant insinuations.... You know, Lieutenant, there’s no court-martial for hitting a man who insults you.” He smiled meaningly at the Lieutenant. “Now, the situation is what?”

“Don’t talk to me about insults and courts-martial, Captain.... You know as well as I—better, no doubt!—that Sergeant Canwick, your very dear friend, is a girl!”

The Captain seemed surprised as he turned his attention to the sergeant and asked, very seriously, “Sergeant, have you been deceiving me all these years?”

“Enough of this!” stammered Jay-Jay. “I didn’t come here to fool around like this. The sergeant is under arrest.”

“What for?” inquired the Captain. “For being a girl?”

“For enough!” retorted Jay-Jay, apparently at a loss to know just what the sergeant could be accused of. “Anyway, he’s under arrest. Take him along, Corporal. I’ll be responsible.”

The M.P. stepped hesitatingly into the center then, but before he could touch Canwick, the Captain spoke up again, and this time his voice had none of that mellow sarcasm that had marked it before. “We’ve had enough of this!” he stated incisively. “What kind of damned fool nonsense is this?... You burst into my room and try to tell me that a boy I knew in America and have known intimately over here is not a boy at all, but a girl. What kind of damned nonsense is that?”

The M.P. stopped. Jay-Jay was momentarily taken back by the obvious sincerity in the Captain’s words, but he quickly recovered his pose of domination. “I suppose you want me to believe that you are not aware of the sergeant’s sex, Captain?”

“I don’t give two damns in hell what you believe, Lieutenant!” replied the Captain. “What you think or conceive in your stumbling stupidity doesn’t concern me in the least. But you have seen fit to crash into my rooms without any invitation from me, and I demand an explanation at once ... and a sensible one.”

“Don’t you believe that that is Leona Canwick sitting there?” Jay-Jay’s voice was almost screaming.

The Captain laughed. “Is this a joke, Lieutenant?”

“Dammit all, Captain, that is Leona Canwick!”

“I’m afraid you have been sleeping in a distillery, Lieutenant.... Of course that isn’t Leona ... why, I had a letter from Leona just this morning, mailed in New York two weeks ago, and this chap has been over here for seven or eight months at least.”

“Let’s see the letter, Captain.”

“I have half a mind to pitch you through the window for your impertinence, Lieutenant.... You are an insufferable pup!... Nevertheless, to show you how foolish, how utterly foolish your suggestions are, I will let you see that letter.”

He went to his trunk and returned quickly with a letter, addressed to him in handwriting that looked very much like Leona Canwick’s and postmarked New York. “Would you like to see the signature also, Lieutenant?” he asked, flipping over the page to show the end of the letter. “Are you convinced now? Do you believe me?”

Jay-Jay didn’t reply at once, but finally he said boldly, “There’s only one way you can convince me: let the sergeant strip right here and now.”

“You are insulting,” declared the Captain. “That’s a hell of a thing to ask any man to do—regardless of what you think.”

“There you are!” taunted the other. “If he has nothing to fear, why should he mind undressing?... He’ll undress here or come to police headquarters and do it—I can promise you that!”

“You aren’t making any threats, are you, Lieutenant?” the Captain inquired mildly.

“I’m making nothing!” stormed Jay-Jay. “This nonsense has gone far enough, sir.... I insist that Sergeant Canwick strip, either here and now or at police headquarters. Which will it be?”

“Sergeant,” said the Captain, “do you mind humoring this lunatic?” But before the sergeant could answer, he continued, “No—as you say, Lieutenant, this nonsense has gone far—so far, indeed, that I insist that we go further, go the limit.... We will go to police headquarters at once.”

While he put on his tunic, Jay-Jay walked around the room and even contrived to steal a glance into the adjoining bedroom. “Would you like to see if I have anything concealed up my sleeves, Lieutenant?” inquired the Captain humorously. He took off his cap shook it violently. “You see, nothing in the hat.... Shall I empty my pockets for your scrutiny?”

He was not very gentle in shoving the visitors through the door—and the party set off for police headquarters.

Arrived there, Captain Winstead insisted upon seeing the Provost Marshal, and when that officer appeared, shook hands with him and briefly explained the purpose of the visit. The provost smiled and led them into his office, where he asked Jay-Jay for an explanation of his attitude and his reasons for wanting the sergeant arrested. The whole matter was threshed over again and finally the provost turned to the sergeant and asked him if he had anything to say on the matter.

“Not a thing, sir,” replied the sergeant, “except that this man has been hounding me at every opportunity, even going so far as to try to tear my clothes off me.”

“Where was that?” inquired the provost.

“In Tours.”

“And does General Backett know about this?”

“No, sir—I didn’t need to tell him. The General’s chauffeur came along and knocked the Lieutenant into the street.”

Jay-Jay flushed to the roots of his hair.

The provost said, “Well, we will settle this matter for once and all. If the Lieutenant’s charges are true, it will be a case outside my jurisdiction but you will be in a difficult position at best. If what he says is proved untrue, then that is an end to it and any further molestations from him will call for severe action.... I’ll ask you to remove your clothes, sergeant, without leaving the room.”

The sergeant went over into the corner and while he removed his clothes, piece by piece, and with his back to the officers, the Captain observed to the Lieutenant, “If what you say is proved untrue, Lieutenant, I shall expect you never to bother me again with any foolish insinuations. Do you understand?”

But the provost interrupted to say, “You needn’t worry about that, Captain Winstead, if the sergeant is really a man.”

At that moment Sergeant Canwick stood up and turned to face the assembled inspectors.

The M.P. who had accompanied the Lieutenant to the Captain’s rooms was the first to laugh—for which the provost promptly rewarded him with a scowl.

Then the Captain began to chuckle.

And then the provost himself had to laugh—for the look on Jay-Jay’s face was enough to make even the General Staff burst into guffaws.

“You may go, Lieutenant,” suggested the provost.

Sergeant Canwick stood with his breeches in one hand and his shirt in the other, laughing so hard that he couldn’t begin to get into either.

It was fifteen minutes before he managed to get dressed and he and the Captain saluted the provost, thanked him, and returned to the Captain’s rooms.

When the door had shut, the sergeant began to remove the blouse with the sergeant’s chevrons on it, as he observed smilingly, “That’s the funniest thing I ever went through!... You sure are a brick, Captain.”

The Captain was still laughing when he went into the bedroom and opened the closet door to permit its occupant to come out.

“Lordy lord!” I exclaimed. “I’m almost suffocated!”

“Well, get your breath,” said the Captain, “and then explain how come this masquerade, young lady—now you are saved from the villain’s clutches.”

“If you don’t mind,” interrupted Leon, getting into the blouse which I gave him, “I’ve got a lot to do and not much time in which to do it, so I’d better run along. I’m leaving Paris in the morning.”

“You be sure to write to me!” I told him. “And for heaven’s sake, stay out of trouble and don’t get yourself killed, or I’ll never get out of this army.”

He laughed. “Stay out of trouble yourself, sweetie. You’re the one that causes all the difficulties.... I’ll leave her in your hands, Captain, and if anything comes up that requires my help, I’ll go A.W.O.L. any time to oblige.... So long....” And out the door he went, with us smiling after him.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” declared the Captain, after he had gone. “This beats anything I ever heard of.... And you and I have been on some funny parties together ... some very funny parties....” And he burst into laughter that kept up so long I had to laugh, too, for after all the memory of such things as that strip poker game, and the Madame Gedouin affair were enough to make anyone laugh.

“No wonder the Madame complained about your being so cold to her!” exclaimed my friend. “Oh—oh—oh—this is rich!”

“Well, what do you intend to do about it?” I asked.

He sobered up long enough to say, “Apparently I’ve demonstrated what I will do, haven’t I?”

We just sat there and looked at each other then. He couldn’t seem to get used to me as a girl and I couldn’t seem to feel like a girl, except that I felt happy and safe for the first time in months. Just before Ben arrived, he came over as if he would take me in his arms, but he stopped and said, very frankly, “Gosh, I can’t even kiss you—it doesn’t seem right at all.”

“You’d better not be kissing me,” I told him. “You’d forget yourself sometime and then Ben would be sure we were crazy. Ben doesn’t know anything about the secret except that my twin brother is in the army under an assumed name.”

“Don’t worry about that ten-minute egg,” he told me. “We’ll negotiate some way of keeping you safe and worryless.... I’ll try to get a transfer. Get you in with me!”

“Well—I don’t know,” I admitted doubtfully. “It would be lots of fun, but ... well, I don’t know.”

Then Ben arrived and we started out on a party that turned out to be loads of fun because the Captain could not make love to any of the women and none of the women could make love to me—because whenever anyone tried it, he just burst out laughing so hard that I had to laugh, too. We were just like a couple of kids, and Ben thought we were crazy.

Maybe we were, but the Captain seemed to be very happy. And I’m damned sure I was!

Although the Captain hadn’t had any chance to make love to me, we became better acquainted and everything was going along smoothly. He didn’t pay any attention to the pretty mam’selles any more and he didn’t drink but only a little now and then, and Ben said, “Damfidont believe you guys is what they calls satiated! Grog shops and ladies parlors don’t appeal to ya atall any more.... Well, it takes a strong he-man to stand the gaff in this burg—which bein’ so, I’ll see ya later!”

We were glad to be alone for a while—and if another Intelligence man hadn’t come in, I think we both might have forgotten that I was in a man’s uniform.... Oh, I loved that man so terribly much: so much it almost hurt sometimes!

He was a wild man! He wanted us to be married just as soon as possible!

But we were leaving Paris next day for a trip down the coast, to look over the bases at Brest, St. Nazaire and Bordeaux, so I wouldn’t become the secret bride of Captain Clark Winstead for at least a few more weeks—all I hoped was that nothing happened now to ruin everything. But, of course, it would be my luck.... Well, we couldn’t cross a river until we got to it, and then maybe we’d find a bridge. I hadn’t fully recovered from the shock of the last good luck I had: I mean about Jay-Jay, for it was just luck and nothing else that the Captain ran into Leon and mistaking him for me insisted upon taking him to his rooms. It was just dumb luck: if it had happened the day before, or the day after or an hour later, it wouldn’t have done me the least bit of good, and I don’t know what the Captain would have done under the circumstances, if Leon hadn’t been there to take my place in the ordeal.... As I say, I couldn’t expect too much luck—but I did hope that Jay-Jay was finished, once and for all.... As for marrying Captain Winstead, well, that was something we’d just have to worry about for a while.

Upon his suggestion I sent a hundred francs to Pierre Lenotier to square up for the black eye Ben gave him, so perhaps that worry was off my mind at last, too.... It’s remarkable what a few nights in Paris can do for one, if you happen to be lucky!

The Captain said he was going to try to get me transferred to his office. We could be together almost all the time ... and then what would happen? Frankly I didn’t trust myself very far! Even with the best morale, army life was demoralizing!