Peace Manoeuvres | Page 9

snarled. "Do what I told you!"
Under his breath he muttered words that, to Miss Farrar, were
unintelligible. The little rat-like man nodded, and ran from them down
the road. The sergeant made an awkward gesture of apology.
"Excuse me, lady," he begged, "but it makes me hot when them rookies
won't obey orders. You see," he ran on glibly, "I'm a reg'lar; served
three years in the Philippines, and I can't get used to not having my
men do what I say."
Miss Farrar nodded, and started toward the house. The sergeant sprang
quickly across the road.
"Have you ever been in the Philippines, Miss?" he called. "It's a great
country."
Miss Farrar halted and shook her head. She was considering how far
politeness required of her to entertain unshaven militiamen, who
insisted on making sentries of themselves at her front gate.
The sergeant had plunged garrulously into a confusing description of
the Far East. He was clasping the pickets of the fence with his hands,
and his eyes were fastened on hers. He lacked neither confidence nor
vocabulary, and not for an instant did his tongue hesitate or his eyes
wander, and yet in his manner there was nothing at which she could

take offence. He appeared only amiably vain that he had seen much of
the world, and anxious to impress that fact upon another. Miss Farrar
was bored, but the man gave her no opportunity to escape. In
consequence she was relieved when the noisy approach of an
automobile brought him to an abrupt pause. Coming rapidly down the
road was a large touring-car, filled with men in khaki. The sergeant
gave one glance at it, and leaped across the road, taking cover behind
the stone wall. Instantly he raised his head above it and shook his fist at
Miss Farrar.
"Don't tell," he commanded. "They're Blues in that car! Don't tell!"
Again he sank from sight.
Miss Farrar now was more than bored, she was annoyed. Why grown
men should play at war so seriously she could not understand. It was
absurd! She no longer would remain a party to it; and, lest the men in
the car might involve her still further, she retreated hastily toward the
house. As she opened the door the car halted at the gate, and voices
called to her, but she pretended not to hear them, and continued up the
stairs. Behind her the car passed noisily on its way.
She mounted the stairs, and crossing a landing moved down a long hall,
at the further end of which was her bedroom. The hall was uncarpeted,
but the tennis shoes she wore made no sound, nor did the door of her
bedroom when she pushed it open.
On the threshold Miss Farrar stood quite still. A swift, sinking nausea
held her in a vice. Her instinct was to scream and run, but her throat
had tightened and gone dry, and her limbs trembled. Opposite the door
was her dressing-table, and reflected in its mirror were the features and
figure of the rat-like soldier. His back was toward her. With one hand
he swept the dressing-table. The other, hanging at his side, held a
revolver. In a moment the panic into which Miss Farrar had been
thrown passed. Her breath and blood returned, and, intent only on flight,
she softly turned. On the instant the rat-faced one raised his eyes, saw
her reflected in the mirror, and with an oath, swung toward her. He
drew the revolver close to his cheek, and looked at her down the barrel.
"Don't move!" he whispered; "don't scream! Where are the jewels?"
Miss Farrar was not afraid of the revolver or of the man. She did not
believe either would do her harm. The idea of both the presence of the
man in her room, and that any one should dare to threaten her was what

filled her with repugnance. As the warm blood flowed again through
her body her spirit returned. She was no longer afraid. She was, instead,
indignant, furious.
With one step she was in the room, leaving the road to the door open.
"Get out of here," she commanded.
The little man snarled, and stamped the floor. He shoved the gun nearer
to her.
"The jewels, damn you!" he whispered. "Do you want me to blow your
fool head off? Where are the jewels?"
"Jewels?" repeated Miss Farrar. "I have no jewels!"
"You lie!" shrieked the little man. "He said the house was full of jewels.
We heard him. He said he would stay to guard the jewels."
Miss Farrar recognized his error. She remembered Lathrop's jest, and
that it had been made while the two men were within hearing, behind
the stone wall.
"It was a joke!" she cried. "Leave at