"I do not wish to be rude," said Miss Farrar, "but you are annoying me.
I have spent fifteen summers in Ma.s.sachusetts, and I have never seen a tramp. I need no one to guard me."
"If not you," said Lathrop easily, "then the family silver. And think of your jewels, and your mother"s jewels. Think of yourself in a house filled with jewels, and entirely surrounded by hostile armies! My duty is to remain with you."
Miss Farrar was so long in answering, that Lathrop lifted his head and turned to look. He found her frowning and gazing intently into the shadow of the woods, across the road. When she felt his eyes upon her she turned her own guiltily upon him. Her cheeks were flushed and her face glowed with some unusual excitement.
"I wish," she exclaimed breathlessly--"I wish," she repeated, "the Reds would take you prisoner!"
"Take me where?" asked Lathrop.
"Take you anywhere!" cried Miss Farrar. "You should be ashamed to talk to me when you should be looking for the enemy!"
"I am _waiting_ for the enemy," explained Lathrop. "It"s the same thing."
Miss Farrar smiled vindictively. Her eyes shone.
"You need not wait long," she said.
There was a crash of a falling stone wall, and of parting bushes, but not in time to give Lathrop warning. As though from the branches of the trees opposite two soldiers fell into the road; around his hat each wore the red band of the invader; each pointed his rifle at Lathrop.
"Hands up!" shouted one. "You"re my prisoner!" cried the other.
Mechanically Lathrop raised his hands, but his eyes turned to Miss Farrar.
"Did you know?" he asked.
"I have been watching them," she said, "creeping up on you for the last ten minutes."
Lathrop turned to the two soldiers, and made an effort to smile.
"That was very clever," he said, "but I have twenty men up the road, and behind them a regiment. You had better get away while you can."
The two Reds laughed derisively. One, who wore the stripes of a sergeant, answered: "That won"t do! We been a mile up the road, and you and us are the only soldiers on it. Gimme the gun!"
Lathrop knew he had no right to refuse. He had been fairly surprised, but he hesitated. When Miss Farrar was not in his mind his amateur soldiering was to him a most serious proposition. The war game was a serious proposition, and that, through his failure for ten minutes to regard it seriously, he had been made a prisoner, mortified him keenly.
That his humiliation had taken place in the presence of Beatrice Farrar did not lessen his discomfort, nor did the explanation he must later make to his captain afford him any satisfaction. Already he saw himself playing the star part in a court-martial. He shrugged his shoulders and surrendered his gun.
As he did so he gloomily scrutinized the insignia of his captors.
"Who took me?" he asked.
"_We_ took you," exclaimed the sergeant.
"What regiment?" demanded Lathrop, sharply. "I have to report who took me; and you probably don"t know it, but your collar ornaments are upside down." With genuine exasperation he turned to Miss Farrar.
"Lord!" he exclaimed, "isn"t it bad enough to be taken prisoner, without being taken by raw recruits that can"t put on their uniforms?"
The Reds flushed, and the younger, a sandy-haired, rat-faced youth, retorted angrily: "Mebbe we ain"t strong on uniforms, beau," he snarled, "but you"ve got nothing on us yet, that I can see. You look pretty with your hands in the air, don"t you?"
"Shut up," commanded the other Red. He was the older man, heavily built, with a strong, hard mouth and chin, on which latter sprouted a three days" iron-gray beard. "Don"t you see he"s an officer? Officers don"t like being took by two-spot privates."
Lathrop gave a sudden start. "Why," he laughed, incredulously, "don"t you know--" He stopped, and his eyes glanced quickly up and down the road.
"Don"t we know what?" demanded the older Red, suspiciously.
"I forgot," said Lathrop. "I--I must not give information to the enemy--"
For an instant there was a pause, while the two Reds stood irresolute.
Then the older nodded the other to the side of the road, and in whispers they consulted eagerly.
Miss Farrar laughed, and Lathrop moved toward her.
"I deserve worse than being laughed at," he said. "I made a strategic mistake. I should not have tried to capture you and an army corps at the same time."
"You," she taunted, "who were always so keen on soldiering, to be taken prisoner," she lowered her voice, "and by men like that! Aren"t they funny?" she whispered, "and East Side and Tenderloin! It made me homesick to hear them! I think when not in uniform the little one drives a taxicab, and the big one is a guard on the elevated."
"They certainly are very "New York,"" a.s.sented Lathrop, "and very tough."
"I thought," whispered Miss Farrar, "those from New York with the Red Army were picked men."
"What does it matter?" exclaimed Lathrop. "It"s just as humiliating to be captured by a hall-room boy as by a mere millionaire! I can"t insist on the invading army being entirely recruited from Harvard graduates."
The two Reds either had reached a decision, or agreed that they could not agree, for they ceased whispering, and crossed to where Lathrop stood.
"We been talking over your case," explained the sergeant, "and we see we are in wrong. We see we made a mistake in taking you prisoner. We had ought to shot you dead. So now we"re going to shoot you dead."
"You can"t!" objected Lathrop. "It"s too late. You should have thought of that sooner."
"I know," admitted the sergeant, "but a prisoner is a h.e.l.l of a nuisance. If you got a prisoner to look after you can"t do your own work; you got to keep tabs on him. And there ain"t nothing in it for the prisoner, neither. If we take you, you"ll have to tramp all the way to our army, and all the way back. But, if you"re dead, how different! You ain"t no bother to anybody. You got a half holiday all to yourself, and you can loaf around the camp, so dead that they can"t make you work, but not so dead you can"t smoke or eat." The sergeant smiled ingratiatingly.
In a tempting manner he exhibited his rifle. "Better be dead," he urged.
"I"d like to oblige you," said Lathrop, "but it"s against the rules. You _can"t_ shoot a prisoner."
The rat-faced soldier uttered an angry exclamation. "To h.e.l.l with the rules!" he cried. "We can"t waste time on him. Turn him loose!"
The older man rounded on the little one savagely. The tone in which he addressed him was cold, menacing, sinister. His words were simple, but his eyes and face were heavy with warning.
"Who is running this?" he asked.
The little soldier muttered, and shuffled away. From under the brim of his campaign hat, his eyes cast furtive glances up and down the road. As though anxious to wipe out the effect of his comrade"s words, the sergeant addressed Lathrop suavely and in a tone of conciliation.
"You see," he explained, "him and me are scouts. We"re not supposed to waste time taking prisoners. So, we"ll set you free." He waved his hand invitingly toward the bicycle. "You can go!" he said.
To Miss Farrar"s indignation Lathrop, instead of accepting his freedom, remained motionless.
"I can"t!" he said. "I"m on post. My captain ordered me to stay in front of this house until I was relieved."
Miss Farrar, amazed at such duplicity, exclaimed aloud: