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They alone are real!" he burst out in joyous fury. "We are going on, I and my guns, on to the best yet on in the pursuit! Nothing can stop us! We shall hit the Grays so fast and hard that they can never get their machine in order again. God bless you! Everything that is fine in me will always think finely of you! You and Lanny two fixed stars for me!" "Truly!" She was radiant.
"I hope you can. It is a chance that might turn the scales of victory a chance that hangs in my mind stubbornly, as if there were some fate in it. Luck, old boy!" "Luck to you, Lanny! Luck and promotion!" They threw their arms about each other in a vigorous embrace. "And you will keep watch that Mrs. Galland and Marta are in no danger?" "Trust me for that, too!"
"They are clearing the wires for the chief of staff to speak to you, sir," announced the telephone aide in Feller's eyrie artillery lookout. Feller received the word with his clucking "La, la, la!" and hummed a tune while the connection was being made. He had not spoken with Lanny since his own promotion to a colonelcy and Partow's death. "My ear-drums split for joy at hearing your voice again!"
I'll 'phone you when the house is taken, and if you don't hear from me again, why, you'll know the plan has failed and I'm a prisoner. But, trust me, Lanny! Trust me for my flag and my country against the invader!" "Against the invader that justifies all! And get Miss Galland out of it. You seem to have influence with her. Get her out of it!" "Trust me!" "Bless you, and God with you!"
Lanstron, reading more between the lines than in them, understood that as muscles hardened with the new life the old passion was dying and in its place was coming something equally dangerous as a possible force in driving his ardent nature to some excess for the sake of oblivion. Finally, Feller broke out with the truth. "My hair is white now, Lanny," he wrote. "I have aged ten years in these two.
One glimpse of the squadron was as a match to Feller's military passion. He swept off his old straw hat and with it all of the gardener's chrysalis. Feller the artillerist gazed aloft in feverish excitement. "Lanny has them guessing! They're bound to know his plans if it takes all the air craft in the shop!" he exclaimed. "And what are we doing?
Though Lanny wished to stop the war, he was only a chip on the crest of a wave. Public opinion, which had made him an idol, would discard him as soon as he ceased to be a hero in the likeness of its desires. She saw him aloof as the others, in preoccupation, bent over the map outlining the plan of attack that they had worked out while awaiting their chief's return from the charge.
Then I heard your step. Since I became deaf my sense of hearing has really grown keener, just as the blind develop a keener sense of feeling. Eh? eh?" He cupped his hand over his ear in the unctuous enjoyment of his gift of acting. "Yes, Colonel Lanstron, would you like to know what a perfect triumph we're going to pull off in irises next season but, Lanny, you seem in a hurry!"
"Miss Galland consents!" "She does? Good! Good for you, Gustave!" "Her second thought," Feller rejoined. "And, Lanny," he proceeded in boyish enthusiasm, using a slang word of military school days, "it was bulludgeous the way we brought down their planes and dirigibles! How I ache to be in it when the guns are so busy!
When he had brought the lantern she took it from his hand and led the way into the tunnel. "Please make the connection so that I can speak to Lanny!" she instructed him after she had pressed the button and the panel door of the telephone recess flew open. For an instant he hesitated; then curiosity and the unremitting authority of her tone had their way.
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