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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Peace Manoeuvres, by H. H. Davis
+#28 in our series by Richard Harding Davis
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+Peace Manoeuvres
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+July, 1999  [Etext #1824]
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Peace Manoeuvres, by H. H. Davis
+******This file should be named pcmnv10.txt or pcmnv10.zip******
+
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+
+PEACE MANOEUVRES
+
+
+The scout stood where three roads cut three green tunnels in the
+pine woods, and met at his feet.  Above his head an aged sign-post
+pointed impartially to East Carver, South Carver, and Carver
+Centre, and left the choice to him.
+
+The scout scowled and bit nervously at his gauntlet.  The choice
+was difficult, and there was no one with whom he could take
+counsel.  The three sun-shot roads lay empty, and the other scouts,
+who, with him, had left the main column at sunrise, he had ordered
+back.  They were to report that on the right flank, so far, at
+least, as Middleboro, there was no sign of the enemy.  What lay
+beyond, it now was his duty to discover.  The three empty roads
+spread before him like a picture puzzle, smiling at his
+predicament.  Whichever one he followed left two unguarded.  Should
+he creep upon for choice Carver Centre, the enemy, masked by a mile
+of fir trees, might advance from Carver or South Carver, and
+obviously he could not follow three roads at the same time.  He
+considered the better strategy would be to wait where he was, where
+the three roads met, and allow the enemy himself to disclose his
+position.  To the scout this course was most distasteful.  He
+assured himself that this was so because, while it were the safer
+course, it wasted time and lacked initiative.  But in his heart he
+knew that was not the reason, and to his heart his head answered
+that when one's country is at war, when fields and fire-sides are
+trampled by the iron heels of the invader, a scout should act not
+according to the dictates of his heart, but in the service of his
+native land.  In the case of this particular patriot, the man and
+scout were at odds.  As one of the Bicycle Squad of the Boston
+Corps of Cadets, the scout knew what, at this momentous crisis in
+her history, the commonwealth of Massachusetts demanded of him.  It
+was that he sit tight and wait for the hated foreigners from New
+York City, New Jersey, and Connecticut to show themselves.  But the
+man knew, and had known for several years, that on the road to
+Carver was the summer home of one Beatrice Farrar.  As Private
+Lathrop it was no part of his duty to know that.  As a man and a
+lover, and a rejected lover at that, he could not think of anything
+else.  Struggling between love and duty the scout basely decided to
+leave the momentous question to chance.  In the front tire of his
+bicycle was a puncture, temporarily effaced by a plug.  Laying the
+bicycle on the ground, Lathrop spun the front wheel swiftly.
+
+"If," he decided, "the wheel stops with the puncture pointing at
+Carver Centre, I'll advance upon Carver Centre.  Should it point to
+either of the two other villages, I'll stop here.
+
+"It's a two to one shot against me, any way," he growled.
+
+Kneeling in the road he spun the wheel, and as intently as at Monte
+Carlo and Palm Beach he had waited for other wheels to determine
+his fortune, he watched it come to rest.  It stopped with the plug
+pointing back to Middleboro.
+
+The scout told himself he was entitled to another trial.  Again he
+spun the wheel.  Again the spokes flashed in the sun.  Again the
+puncture rested on the road to Middleboro.
+
+"If it does that once more," thought the scout, "it's a warning
+that there is trouble ahead for me at Carver, and all the little
+Carvers."
+
+For the third time the wheel flashed, but as he waited for the
+impetus to die, the sound of galloping hoofs broke sharply on the
+silence.  The scout threw himself and his bicycle over the nearest
+stone wall, and, unlimbering his rifle, pointed it down the road.
+
+He saw approaching a small boy, in a white apron, seated in a white
+wagon, on which was painted, "Pies and Pastry.  East Wareham."  The
+boy dragged his horse to an abrupt halt.
+
+"Don't point that at me!" shouted the boy.
+
+"Where do you come from?" demanded the scout.
+
+"Wareham," said the baker.
+
+"Are you carrying any one concealed in that wagon?"
+
+As though to make sure the baker's boy glanced apprehensively into
+the depths of his cart, and then answered that in the wagon he
+carried nothing but fresh-baked bread.  To the trained nostrils of
+the scout this already was evident.  Before sunrise he had
+breakfasted on hard tack and muddy coffee, and the odor of crullers
+and mince pie, still warm, assailed him cruelly.  He assumed a
+fierce and terrible aspect.
+
+"Where are you going?" he challenged.
+
+"To Carver Centre," said the boy.
+
+To chance Lathrop had left the decision.  He believed the fates had
+answered.
+
+Dragging his bicycle over the stone wall, he fell into the road.
+
+"Go on," he commanded.  "I'll use your cart for a screen.  I'll
+creep behind the enemy before he sees me."
+
+The baker's boy frowned unhappily.
+
+"But supposing," he argued, "they see you first, will they shoot?"
+
+The scout waved his hand carelessly.
+
+"Of course," he cried.
+
+"Then," said the baker, "my horse will run away!"
+
+"What of it?" demanded the scout.  "Are Middleboro, South
+Middleboro, Rock, Brockton, and Boston to fall?  Are they to be
+captured because you're afraid of your own horse?  They won't shoot
+REAL bullets!  This is not a real war.  Don't you know that?"
+
+The baker's boy flushed with indignation.
+
+"Sure, I know that," he protested; "but my horse--HE don't know
+that!"
+
+Lathrop slung his rifle over his shoulder and his leg over his
+bicycle.
+
+"If the Reds catch you," he warned, in parting, "they'll take
+everything you've got."
+
+"The Blues have took most of it already," wailed the boy.  "And
+just as they were paying me the battle begun, and this horse run
+away, and I couldn't get him to come back for my money."
+
+"War," exclaimed Lathrop morosely, "is always cruel to the
+innocent."  He sped toward Carver Centre.  In his motor car, he had
+travelled the road many times, and as always his goal had been the
+home of Miss Beatrice Farrar, he had covered it at a speed
+unrecognized by law.  But now he advanced with stealth and caution.
+In every clump of bushes he saw an ambush.  Behind each rock he
+beheld the enemy.
+
+In a clearing was a group of Portuguese cranberry pickers, dressed
+as though for a holiday.  When they saw the man in uniform, one of
+the women hailed him anxiously.
+
+"Is the parade coming?" she called.
+
+"Have you seen any of the Reds?" Lathrop returned.
+
+"No," complained the woman.  "And we been waiting all morning.
+When will the parade come?"
+
+"It's not a parade," said Lathrop, severely.  "It's a war!"
+
+The summer home of Miss Farrar stood close to the road.  It had
+been so placed by the farmer who built it, in order that the women
+folk might sit at the window and watch the passing of the stage-
+coach and the peddler.  Great elms hung over it, and a white fence
+separated the road from the narrow lawn.  At a distance of a
+hundred yards a turn brought the house into view, and at this turn,
+as had been his manoeuvre at every other possible ambush, Lathrop
+dismounted and advanced on foot.  Up to this moment the road had
+been empty, but now, in front of the Farrar cottage, it was blocked
+by a touring-car and a station wagon.  In the occupants of the car
+he recognized all the members of the Farrar family, except Miss
+Farrar.  In the station wagon were all of the Farrar servants.
+Miss Farrar herself was leaning upon the gate and waving them a
+farewell.  The touring-car moved off down the road; the station
+wagon followed; Miss Farrar was alone.  Lathrop scorched toward
+her, and when he was opposite the gate, dug his toes in the dust
+and halted.  When he lifted his broad-brimmed campaign hat, Miss
+Farrar exclaimed both with surprise and displeasure.  Drawing back
+from the gate she held herself erect.  Her attitude was that of one
+prepared for instant retreat.  When she spoke it was in tones of
+extreme disapproval.
+
+"You promised," said the girl, "you would not come to see me."
+
+Lathrop, straddling his bicycle, peered anxiously down the road.
+
+"This is not a social call," he said.  "I'm on duty.  Have you seen
+the Reds?"
+
+His tone was brisk and alert, his manner preoccupied.  The
+ungraciousness of his reception did not seem in the least to
+disconcert him.
+
+But Miss Farrar was not deceived.  She knew him, not only as a
+persistent and irrepressible lover, but as one full of guile,
+adroit in tricks, fertile in expedients.  He was one who could not
+take "No" for an answer--at least not from her.  When she repulsed
+him she seemed to grow in his eyes only the more attractive.
+
+"It is not the lover who comes to woo," he was constantly
+explaining, "but the lover's WAY of wooing."
+
+Miss Farrar had assured him she did not like his way.  She objected
+to being regarded and treated as a castle that could be taken only
+by assault.  Whether she wished time to consider, or whether he and
+his proposal were really obnoxious to her, he could not find out.
+His policy of campaign was that she, also, should not have time to
+find out.  Again and again she had agreed to see him only on the
+condition that he would not make love to her.  He had promised
+again and again, and had failed to keep that promise.  Only a week
+before he had been banished from her presence, to remain an exile
+until she gave him permission to see her at her home in New York.
+It was not her purpose to return there for two weeks, and yet here
+he was, a beggar at her gate.  It might be that he was there, as he
+said, "on duty," but her knowledge of him and of the doctrine of
+chances caused her to doubt it.
+
+"Mr. Lathrop!" she began, severely.
+
+As though to see to whom she had spoken Lathrop glanced anxiously
+over his shoulder.  Apparently pained and surprised to find that it
+was to him she had addressed herself, he regarded her with deep
+reproach.  His eyes were very beautiful.  It was a fact which had
+often caused Miss Farrar extreme annoyance.
+
+He shook his head sadly.
+
+"'Mr. Lathrop?'" he protested.  "You know that to you I am always
+'Charles--Charles the Bold,' because I am bold to love you; but
+never 'Mr. Lathrop,' unless," he went on briskly, "you are
+referring to a future state, when, as Mrs. Lathrop, you will make
+me--"
+
+Miss Farrar had turned her back on him, and was walking rapidly up
+the path.
+
+"Beatrice," he called.  "I am coming after you!"
+
+Miss Farrar instantly returned and placed both hands firmly upon
+the gate.
+
+"I cannot understand you!" she said.  "Don't you see that when you
+act as you do now, I can't even respect you?  How do you think I
+could ever care, when you offend me so?  You jest at what you
+pretend is the most serious thing in your life.  You play with it--
+laugh at it!"
+
+The young man interrupted her sharply.
+
+"It's like this," he said.  "When I am with you I am so happy I
+can't be serious.  When I am NOT with you, it is SO serious that I
+am utterly and completely wretched.  You say my love offends you,
+bores you!  I am sorry, but what, in heaven's name, do you think
+your NOT loving me is doing to ME?  I am a wreck!  I am a skeleton!
+Look at me!"
+
+He let his bicycle fall, and stood with his hands open at his
+sides, as though inviting her to gaze upon the ruin she had caused.
+
+Four days of sun and rain, astride of a bicycle, without food or
+sleep, had drawn his face into fine, hard lines, had bronzed it
+with a healthy tan.  His uniform, made by the same tailor that
+fitted him with polo breeches, clung to him like a jersey.  The
+spectacle he presented was that of an extremely picturesque,
+handsome, manly youth, and of that fact no one was better aware
+than himself.
+
+"Look at me," he begged, sadly.
+
+Miss Farrar was entirely unimpressed.
+
+"I am!" she returned, coldly.  "I never saw you looking so well--
+and you know it."  She gave a gasp of comprehension.  "You came
+here because you knew your uniform was becoming!"
+
+Lathrop regarded himself complacently.
+
+"Yes, isn't it?" he assented.  "I brought on this war in order to
+wear it.  If you don't mind," he added, "I think I'll accept your
+invitation and come inside.  I've had nothing to eat in four days."
+
+Miss Farrar's eyes flashed indignantly.
+
+"You're NOT coming inside," she declared; "but if you'll only
+promise to go away at once, I'll bring you everything in the
+house."
+
+"In that house," exclaimed Lathrop, dramatically, "there's only one
+thing that I desire, and I want that so badly that 'life holds no
+charm without you.'"
+
+Miss Farrar regarded him steadily.
+
+"Do you intend to drive me away from my own door, or will you go?"
+
+Lathrop picked his wheel out of the dust.
+
+"Good-by," he said.  "I'll come back when you have made up your
+mind."
+
+In vexation Miss Farrar stamped her foot upon the path.
+
+"I HAVE made up my mind!" she protested.
+
+"Then," returned Lathrop, "I'll come back when you have changed
+it."
+
+He made a movement as though to ride away, but much to Miss
+Farrar's dismay, hastily dismounted.  "On second thoughts," he
+said, "it isn't right for me to leave you.  The woods are full of
+tramps and hangers-on of the army.  You're not safe.  I can watch
+this road from here as well as from anywhere else, and at the same
+time I can guard you."
+
+To the consternation of Miss Farrar he placed his bicycle against
+the fence, and, as though preparing for a visit, leaned his elbows
+upon it.
+
+"I do not wish to be rude," said Miss Farrar, "but you are annoying
+me.  I have spent fifteen summers in Massachusetts, 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,'" assented 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 ballroom 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 hell 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 hell 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:
+
+"He is NOT on post!" she protested.  "He's a scout!  He wants to
+stop here, because--because--he's hungry.  I wouldn't have let you
+take him prisoner, if I had not thought you would take him away
+with you."  She appealed to the sergeant.  "PLEASE take him away,"
+she begged.
+
+The sergeant turned sharply upon his prisoner.
+
+"Why don't you do what the lady wants?" he demanded.
+
+"Because I've got to do what my captain wants," returned Lathrop,
+"and he put me on sentry-go, in front of this house."
+
+With the back of his hand, the sergeant fretfully scraped the three
+days' growth on his chin.  "There's nothing to it," he exclaimed,
+"but for to take him with us.  When we meet some more Reds we'll
+turn him over.  Fall in!" he commanded.
+
+"No!" protested Lathrop.  "I don't want to be turned over.  I've
+got a much better plan.  YOU don't want to be bothered with a
+prisoner.  I don't want to be a prisoner.  As you say, I am better
+dead.  You can't shoot a prisoner, but if he tries to escape you
+can.  I'll try to escape.  You shoot me.  Then I return to my own
+army, and report myself dead.  That ends your difficulty and saves
+me from a court-martial.  They can't court-martial a corpse."
+
+The face of the sergeant flashed with relief and satisfaction.  In
+his anxiety to rid himself of his prisoner, he lifted the bicycle
+into the road and held it in readiness.
+
+"You're all right!" he said, heartily.  "You can make your getaway
+as quick as you like."
+
+But to the conspiracy Miss Farrar refused to lend herself.
+
+"How do you know," she demanded, "that he will keep his promise?
+He may not go back to his own army.  He can be just as dead on my
+lawn as anywhere else!"
+
+Lathrop shook his head at her sadly.
+
+"How you wrong me!" he protested.  "How dare you doubt the promise
+of a dying man?  These are really my last words, and I wish I could
+think of something to say suited to the occasion, but the presence
+of strangers prevents."
+
+He mounted his bicycle.  "'If I had a thousand lives to give,'" he
+quoted with fervor, "'I'd give them all to--'" he hesitated, and
+smiled mournfully on Miss Farrar.  Seeing her flushed and indignant
+countenance, he added, with haste, "to the Commonwealth of
+Massachusetts!"
+
+As he started on his wheel slowly down the path, he turned to the
+sergeant.
+
+"I'm escaping," he explained.  The Reds, with an enthusiasm
+undoubtedly genuine, raised their rifles, and the calm of the
+Indian summer was shattered by two sharp reports.  Lathrop, looking
+back over his shoulder, waved one hand reassuringly.
+
+"Death was instantaneous," he called.  He bent his body over the
+handle-bar, and they watched him disappear rapidly around the turn
+in the road.
+
+Miss Farrar sighed with relief.
+
+"Thank you very much," she said.
+
+As though signifying that to oblige a woman he would shoot any
+number of prisoners, the sergeant raised his hat.
+
+"Don't mention it, lady," he said.  "I seen he was annoying you,
+and that's why I got rid of him.  Some of them amateur soldiers, as
+soon as they get into uniform, are too fresh.  He took advantage of
+you because your folks were away from home.  But don't you worry
+about that.  I'll guard this house until your folks get back."
+
+Miss Farrar protested warmly.
+
+"Really!" she exclaimed; "I need no one to guard me."
+
+But the soldier was obdurate.  He motioned his comrade down the
+road.
+
+"Watch at the turn," he ordered; "he may come back or send some of
+the Blues to take us.  I'll stay here and protect the lady."
+
+Again Miss Farrar protested, but the sergeant, in a benign and
+fatherly manner, smiled approvingly.  Seating himself on the grass
+outside the fence, he leaned his back against the gatepost,
+apparently settling himself for conversation.
+
+"Now, how long might it have been," he asked, "before we showed up,
+that you seen us?"
+
+"I saw you," Miss Farrar said, "when Mr.--when that bicycle scout
+was talking to me.  I saw the red bands on your hats among the
+bushes."
+
+The sergeant appeared interested.
+
+"But why didn't you let on to him?"
+
+Miss Farrar laughed evasively.
+
+"Maybe because I am from New York, too," she said.  "Perhaps I
+wanted to see soldiers from my city take a prisoner."
+
+They were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the smaller
+soldier.  On his rat-like countenance was written deep concern.
+
+"When I got to the turn," he began, breathlessly, "I couldn't see
+him.  Where did he go?  Did he double back through the woods, or
+did he have time to ride out of sight before I got there?"
+
+The reappearance of his comrade affected the sergeant strangely.
+He sprang to his feet, his under jaw protruding truculently, his
+eyes flashing with anger.
+
+"Get back," he 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 once!"  She backed swiftly
+toward the open window that looked upon the road.  "Or I'll call
+your sergeant!"
+
+"If you go near that window or scream," whispered the rat-like one,
+"I'll shoot!"
+
+A heavy voice, speaking suddenly from the doorway, shook Miss
+Farrar's jangled nerves into fresh panic.
+
+"She won't scream," said the voice.
+
+In the door Miss Farrar saw the bulky form of the sergeant,
+blocking her escape.
+
+Without shifting his eyes from Miss Farrar, the man with the gun
+cursed breathlessly at the other.  "Why didn't you keep her away?"
+he panted.
+
+"An automobile stopped in front of the gate," explained the
+sergeant.  "Have you got them?" he demanded.
+
+"No!" returned the other.  "Nothing!  She won't tell where they
+are."
+
+The older man laughed.  "Oh, yes, she'll tell," he whispered.  His
+voice was still low and suave, but it carried with it the weight of
+a threat, and the threat, although unspoken, filled Miss Farrar
+with alarm.  Her eyes, wide with concern, turned fearfully from one
+man to the other.
+
+The sergeant stretched his hands toward her, the fingers working
+and making clutches in the air.  The look in his eyes was quite
+terrifying.
+
+"If you don't tell," he said slowly, "I'll choke it out of you!"
+
+If his intention was to frighten the girl, he succeeded admirably.
+With her hands clasped to her throat, Miss Farrar sank against the
+wall.  She saw no chance of escape.  The way to the door was
+barred, and should she drop to the garden below, from the window,
+before she could reach the road the men would overtake her.  Even
+should she reach the road, the house nearest was a half mile
+distant.
+
+The sergeant came close, his fingers opening and closing in front
+of her eyes.  He raised his voice to a harsh, bellowing roar.  "I'm
+going to make you tell!" he shouted.  "I'm going to choke it out of
+you!"
+
+Although she was alone in the house, although on every side the
+pine woods encompassed her, Miss Farrar threw all her strength into
+one long, piercing cry for help.  And upon the instant it was
+answered.  From the hall came the swift rush of feet.  The rat-like
+one swung toward it.  From his revolver came a report that shook
+the room, a flash and a burst of smoke, and through it Miss Farrar
+saw Lathrop hurl himself.  He dived at the rat-like one, and as on
+the foot-ball field he had been taught to stop a runner, flung his
+arms around the other's knees.  The legs of the man shot from under
+him, his body cut a half circle through the air, and the part of
+his anatomy to first touch the floor was his head.  The floor was
+of oak, and the impact gave forth a crash like the smash of a base-
+ball bat, when it drives the ball to centre field.  The man did not
+move.  He did not even groan.  In his relaxed fingers the revolver
+lay, within reach of Lathrop's hand.  He fell upon it and, still on
+his knees, pointed it at the sergeant.
+
+"You're MY prisoner, now!" he shouted cheerfully.  "Hands up!"
+
+The man raised his arms slowly, as if he were lifting heavy dumb-
+bells.
+
+"The lady called for help," he said.  "I came to help her."
+
+"No!  No!" protested the girl.  "He did NOT help me!  He said he
+would choke me if I didn't--"
+
+"He said he would--what!" bellowed Lathrop.  He leaped to his feet,
+and sent the gun spinning through the window.  He stepped toward
+the man gingerly, on the balls of his feet, like one walking on
+ice.  The man seemed to know what that form of approach threatened,
+for he threw his arms into a position of defence.
+
+"You bully!" whispered Lathrop.  "You coward!  You choke women, do
+you?"
+
+He shifted from one foot to the other, his body balancing forward,
+his arms swinging limply in front of him.  With his eyes, he seemed
+to undress the man, as though choosing a place to strike.
+
+"I made the same mistake you did," he taunted.  "I should have
+killed you first.  Now I am going to do it!"
+
+He sprang at the man, his chin still sunk on his chest, but with
+his arms swinging like the spokes of a wheel.  His opponent struck
+back heavily, violently, but each move of his arm seemed only to
+open up some vulnerable spot.  Blows beat upon his chin, upon his
+nose, his eyes; blows jabbed him in the ribs, drove his breath from
+his stomach, ground his teeth together, cut the flesh from his
+cheeks.  He sank to his knees, with his arms clasping his head.
+
+"Get up!" roared Lathrop.  "Stand up to it, you coward!"
+
+But the man had no idea of standing up to it.  Howling with pain,
+he scrambled toward the door, and fled staggering down the hall.
+
+At the same moment the automobile that a few minutes before had
+passed up the road came limping to the gate, and a half-dozen men
+in uniform sprang out of it.  From the window Lathrop saw them
+spread across the lawn and surround the house.
+
+"They've got him!" he said.  He pointed to the prostrate figure on
+the floor.  "He and the other one," he explained, breathlessly,
+"are New York crooks!  They have been looting in the wake of the
+Reds, disguised as soldiers.  I knew they weren't even amateur
+soldiers by the mistakes in their make-up, and I made that bluff of
+riding away so as to give them time to show what the game was.
+Then, that provost guard in the motor car stopped me, and when they
+said who they were after, I ordered them back here.  But they had a
+flat tire, and my bicycle beat them."
+
+In his excitement he did not notice that the girl was not
+listening, that she was very pale, that she was breathing quickly,
+and trembling.
+
+"I'll go tell them," he added, "that the other one they want is up
+here."
+
+Miss Farrar's strength instantly returned.
+
+With a look of terror at the now groaning figure on the floor, she
+sprang toward Lathrop, with both hands clutching him by his
+sleeves.
+
+"You will NOT!" she commanded.  "You will not leave me alone!"
+
+Appealingly she raised her face to his startled countenance.  With
+a burst of tears she threw herself into his arms.  "I'm afraid!"
+she sobbed.  "Don't leave me.  Please, no matter what I say, never
+leave me again!"
+
+Between bewilderment and joy, the face of Lathrop was
+unrecognizable.  As her words reached him, as he felt the touch of
+her body in his arms, and her warm, wet cheek against his own, he
+drew a deep sigh of content, and then, fearfully and tenderly, held
+her close.
+
+After a pause, in which peace came to all the world, he raised his
+head.
+
+"Don't worry!" he said.  "You can BET I won't leave you!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Peace Manoeuvres, by H. H. Davis
+
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