  Copyright, MCMXVIII, by Jos. W. Stern & Co., N.Y. Copyright, MCMXVIII, by Jos. W. Stern & Co., N.Y. Then a rousing Hip-Hoo-ray! For our Soldier Boys, and pluck will win the day for our Soldier Boys. Patty at the piano, sang out the stirring words of the refrain and then began on the second verse: Our Soldier Boy is a tip-top sort, And wherever he may roam, His colours are unfurled for the freedom of the world And the smile of a girl back home. When it’s “Forward, March!” he is on the job With his cheek aglow and his heart athrob; When it’s “Ready, Fire!” with a Hip-hooray! He’ll fight ’em to a finish for the U. S. A. Then a rousing Hip-hooray for our Soldier Boys And pluck will win the day for our Soldier Boys, Off they go to smash the foe, And that’s just the surest thing you know! Then sing out a brave “March On!” to our Soldier Boys, The war will yet be won by our Soldier Boys, Colours flying for Victory! For the Flag and the Girl back home! Patty wound up with a grand flourish of voice and piano keys, just as Helen came in. “Oh, Patty,” she cried, “is it all right?” “Yes, I think so,—I hope so,—but what did happen, Bumble? Who is Sergeant Colton, and what do you mean by your telephone message?” Half hysterical, Helen told the whole story of her experiences of the night before. She confessed fully and frankly that she had babbled unthinkingly, and that Mrs. Lummis had made use of her revelations. “Did anybody come here?” she asked, eagerly. “I should say yes!” Patty returned, but Helen’s fear and misery were so poignant, Patty’s kind heart wouldn’t let her scold the culprit. “You saved the day by telephoning, Bumble, if you hadn’t, there would have been very grave trouble. Now, don’t think any more about it; but I’m not going to let you know things after this. You were terribly thoughtless, but I know you must have suffered from remorse and regret, so let’s not talk any more about it. The papers are safe, so far. I’m sorry it is known that I have them,—but even that isn’t positively known. Your Mrs. Lummis is a spy, or, at least, conniving with spies. It was strange you should drift into her house in that way, but spies are everywhere now. Run upstairs, dear, and get your things off, and get calmed down. Don’t worry over what you’ve done, and—listen, Helen, don’t tell anybody, not even Nan, about it. You must learn to keep your mouth shut. Now, I forgive you, and I’ll forget what has happened, if you’ll promise never to talk to any one, not even to me, about secret service matters or papers or anything pertaining to Captain Farnsworth’s or my connection with affairs of state.” “I will promise, Patty, and you’re awful good to me. I was careless and thoughtless, but that woman was so kind and wheedlesome, she got it out of me before I knew it.” “I see just how it was. You don’t appreciate or realise the deep responsibility of these secret matters. I do, and so, remember, even you and I must never mention them again.” Helen went off to her room, and Patty turned back to the piano. It was a habit of hers to sing when perturbed or anxious, and this new song was a favourite with her, and she sang it with a clear, vibrant energy that made the house ring with melody. “Colours flying for Victory, For the Flag and the Girl back home!” “That’s a great little old song!” said a voice behind her, and Patty looked up to see Phil Van Reypen coming into the room. “Yes, isn’t it? I like it best of all the new war songs. There’s a fine swing to the music, and a stunning accompaniment. When did you come up from the South? At break of day?” “Just about. And I’m here only for a few minutes, but I have a warning for you. Be very careful, Patty,” Phil drew nearer and lowered his voice, “of anything Farnsworth may trust to you. You remember Herron?” “Oh, yes.” “He is a spy, or rather, a tool of a spy. In our uniform, among our soldiers, he has been suspected of selling our secrets. That whole performance at the Country Club was a cooked-up job. Munson was the plotter, and he was trying to get from your pocket the letter that he hoped was another and a more important paper. Since then, they have worked silently toward the same end. Beware of Herron, Patty, but don’t let him know you suspect him. It is only suspicion so far, nothing has been proved, but he is under strict surveillance.” “Phil,” and Patty’s heart beat fast, “I would defend Bill’s confidential matters with my very life. Something has happened,—but I feel it’s better not to tell you the details. Tell me this, though. Supposing some one came to me, purporting to be sent by Captain Farnsworth and using as a token of faith a word dear and familiar to Bill and myself. Could that have been learned by an outsider and used, or, would you think it really meant a message from Bill?” “Distrust it, Patty. These people have almost incredible powers of getting hold of just such arguments or persuasions. Distrust always,—is the best rule toward any stranger. Farnsworth, if he sends you a message at all, by a man who is a stranger to you, will make it so that you can have no possible doubt of its truth.” Patty drew a sigh of relief. “Just what I thought,” she said. “But I’m frightened, Philip. I feel so weak, so inexperienced, to defend these secrets. It is a terrible responsibility.” “It is, Patty, of course. But, look at it this way. Whatever Farnsworth asks of you, he feels you are capable of accomplishing. So, make good,—justify his faith in you, by bravely accepting the responsibility, and succeeding in the task.” “I can do anything when I feel I’m helping him,” said Patty, softly. “Anything to help him along, with Colours flying for Victory, For the Flag and the Girl back home!” “Of course you can.” Van Reypen’s heart contracted as he looked at Patty’s lovely face, aglow with love and patriotism. He was slowly but very surely coming round to the opinion that he could never win her heart away from Farnsworth. He had hoped to do this, not in any dishonourable way, but only in confidence of his own devotion, and a hope that Patty’s affection for Farnsworth was but a temporary infatuation. But it was becoming more and more clear to him, that Patty’s heart was given once and for all time to his rival, and though deeply disappointed, Phil was man enough not to whine. Besides, his motto was, “the game’s never out till it’s played out,” and he had not yet abandoned all hope. Also, he was absolutely fair, and never by word or implication said anything to Farnsworth’s disparagement or obtruded himself unduly. “That’s what I sing every time I go up in my airplane,” he said. “For the Flag and the Girl back home!” “I know your Flag,—but who’s your girl?” “You are.” “Nixy!” Patty laughed in her gay, sweet fashion. Secure in her single-hearted devotion to Bill, she felt no fear of Philip, and treated him with a serene un-self-consciousness, that went far to convince him of the hopelessness of his suit. “Oh, yes, you’re my girl, even if you aren’t My Girl!” “You mean even if I’m not your only girl. Would you be surprised, Philip, my child, to learn that I know more about Your Girl than you do?” “Meaning you know more about yourself than I can possibly know about you?” “No; that isn’t what I mean a little bit! But I won’t tell you now, only some time, I will tell you the meaning of my cryptic utterance!” “Glad to be informed, at your convenience, ma’am.” And then Helen came into the room, and leaving her to entertain Van Reypen, Patty ran away to look after some of her own affairs. It was that same afternoon that Lieutenant Herron called. Patty was inclined to refuse to see him, and then thought better of that, for, she argued to herself, perhaps she could learn something from him. She went down to greet him, with a pleasant smile and a courteous manner. To her surprise, she found him in a perturbed and nervous state, fidgeting about the room as he awaited her appearance. “Sit down, won’t you?” she invited, but he shook his head. “I’m here only for a minute, I had to come. Patty,” he grasped her two hands in his own, and glanced wildly about, “I’m frantic because of love for you——” “Lieutenant Herron!” Patty cried, startled by his strange demeanour and trying to release her hands from his burning grasp. “Don’t! don’t repulse me! Patty, you little darling, I’m crazy I know,—but I can’t help it! I’ve loved you from the first minute I laid eyes on you! That my case is hopeless, I can’t—I won’t believe! Oh, have pity on me,——” The man quite broke down, and raising Patty’s hands to his lips he covered them with burning kisses. Patty was not frightened. Often in her life she had experienced the sensation of a sudden and unexpected outbreak such as this, and she was entirely mistress of the situation. But she was conscious of a strong desire to ask this suspected man a few leading questions as to certain matters, yet it seemed a mean thing, to take advantage of his protestations of affection for her. But, she reflected, all’s fair in love and war, and if she could find out something that her Little Billee wanted to know, it surely could not be wrong. “Please, Lieutenant Herron,” she said, at last drawing away her hands; “I know I have only to remind you that you are talking to the affianced wife of another man to make you realise what you are doing. As a soldier and a gentleman you will not, I am sure, continue such avowals. Please, don’t, and I will promise to forget what you have just said. Did you come on an errand?” “Only this. My only errand is to tell you of my love and beg for a ray of hope.” It was not going to be so easy, after all, Patty discovered, but she said, gently, “There is no ray of hope for you, Mr. Herron, and I am sure it is the kindest thing to tell you so at once. I am appreciative of your regard, but I am also exceedingly surprised. I cannot feel that I have given you any encouragement or any reason to think I have an especial interest in you.” “No,—you haven’t given me what could be called encouragement, I know, and I suppose I ought to have known better than to fall over head and ears in love with your exquisite face and winning personality. But we cannot rule our hearts always, and the moment I saw you I knew it was all up with me.” The frank, boyish face was pathetic in its utter woe, and Patty felt truly sorry for him. “I think,” she said, smiling, “the best thing to do is to drop this subject right here and now. Indeed I must insist on your doing so if I continue to talk to you. Where are you stationed now?” “I don’t know,—I’m on the jump. I say, Miss Fairfield, I’m all broken up. I guess I’ll go away.” “Very well, Mr. Herron. Make up your mind to forget this little episode and I will do the same. By the way, do you think you played quite fair the day we were at the Country Club?” “Oh, that. No, I don’t. But I was so anxious to be with you, that I took any opportunity that offered.” “Still, you didn’t have to lend yourself to—to underhanded proceedings.” “Just what do you mean?” Herron, Patty saw, was on his guard at once. But so was she. No word, she determined, should be spoken by her that might be misused. “If you don’t know, I don’t either,” she parried. “Then we neither of us know, and that’s best after all,” he returned, gravely. “Now, Miss Fairfield, I’m going—out of your life forever. I’ve told you my sorry story,—but I hope I’m man enough to accept your dismissal properly. No matter what I’ve been or done, I’m going to do something for you now. At least, for the man you love,—and that’s for you,—isn’t it?” “Yes,” breathed Patty, wondering what was coming. “Well, it’s just this. When you see Captain Farnsworth,—don’t on any account trust this to writing,—when you see him, alone, tell him to watch out for a certain wire-puller in Washington. Tell him that he’s trying to sidetrack him into the Searchlight gang,——” “Who is the man?” “I can’t speak his name. But tell Captain Farnsworth that it begins with S and ends with s. He’ll know.” “If this is straight goods, I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Herron.” “It is. It’s gospel truth, and Farnsworth will be glad to know it. Moreover, he’ll be greatly surprised. But it will be to him valuable information. When shall you see him?” “I don’t know. I doubt if it is soon.” “Can you telephone—no, don’t do that. Do you have a cipher code?” “No, we don’t. But wouldn’t a sealed and registered letter do?” “No; it’s unsafe. Try to see him as soon as you can. Now I must go. I suppose I mayn’t ask you for anything for a—a keepsake——” Patty’s gentle heart was touched by the sadness in the poor chap’s face, and she looked about. On the table lay a little book of verses that she was fond of and had often read. “Take this,” she said, kindly. “It’s so tiny you can put it in your pocket.” Gratefully he accepted the souvenir, and as he bowed himself out, Patty couldn’t help admiring his big manly figure and his military bearing. She wandered to the piano, and absent-mindedly ran over the chorus of “Colours flying for Victory, For the Flag and the Girl back home.” The ringing of the telephone bell brought her to her feet. “Yes,” said a well-loved voice, “it’s Your Own. I’ll be with you in about twenty minutes. Good-bye.” “My gracious goodness!” exclaimed Patty to herself. “What a sudden one he is, to be sure! He fairly takes my breath away!” She ran to spread the good news. “Little Billee’s coming!” she cried to Nan and Helen, who were in the sitting-room, waiting to hear the account of Lieutenant Herron’s call. But this new information quite eclipsed their interest in Herron. “Really!” cried Nan. “When? How long will he stay?” “Dunno. Didn’t get any details, only he’ll be here in twenty minutes and thank goodness, that other person has departed.” “Herron? What’d he come for, anyway?” “On an errand,” and Patty smiled to think of the ridiculous boy daring to make love to her. “He had a bee in his bonnet,—a most foolish bee, and I had to get it out for him. Oh, my Little Billee’s coming! I’m so glad!” She danced about the room, scarce able to control her impatience for the necessary twenty minutes. “How can I wait?” she frowned, “seems’s if I’d just perfectly fly!” “Go and sing that favourite song of yours,” advised Nan. “That always keeps you contented.” “I do like it, but I’m too happy to sing. I want to dance or fly!” Patty executed some most intricate and marvellous dancing steps and like a fairy girl indeed, she looked, as with waving arms and graceful gestures, she pirouetted round the room. “Daughter of the Regiment,” she announced, as she fell into martial step and to the accompaniment of the Soldier Boy song, she marched down stairs. Helen followed. “Nixy, Bumble, my pet,” Patty said; “sorry, but I’ve just got to see my own Little Billee all alone. So, you’ll forgive me if I drop a gentle hint that you’re not invited.” “I know that, Patsy; but listen a minute. I just want to say this. If you think better to tell Bill about what I did, you tell him. I’d hate to have him know it, I admit, but if it’s right, why, tell him, and I’ll take the blame.” “That’s a goody girl, Bumble, dear, but I don’t believe it will be necessary. Anyway, I’ll know that I have your permission to tell and I’ll see if I think it’s best to do so. Probably I’ll think it’s better not to tell him, for no real harm was done, you know,—and yet, it may be that I’ll think he ought to know all.” “What did Lieutenant Herron want, Patty?” “Me.” “What do you mean?” “What I say. He actually had the nerve to tell me he admired me. I thought of sending for you and offering you as a substitute. But truly, Bumble, honey, he isn’t a reliable citizen. He’s—well, we won’t say it out loud,—but he isn’t our sort.” “I know it. I know a lot about him. But did he really dare lift his eyes to you, Patty?” “He really did. You see a soldier is of necessity a brave man, and it seems Lieutenant Herron is one of the bravest.” “Brave! He’s a blind bat, if he thinks you’d look at him twice!” “Or once even. You see my heart and hands are full with the one man in the world for me, and Mr. Herron’s sentiments are not even interesting to me. And now, my dearest cousin, if you’ll take your departure, I’ll compose myself to await my visitor. Sit still, my fluttering heart!” |
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