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Corporal Kavaalen was going through the dead man's pockets, and Skinner was working on the rifle with an insufflator. "Well, we can't say it was robbery, anyhow," Kavaalen said. "He had eight C's in his billfold." "Migawd, Sarge, is this damn rifle ever lousy with prints," Skinner complained. "A lot of Rivers's, and everybody else's who's been fooling with it around here, and half the Wehrmacht."
While I wondered, for an instant, if there could by any possibility be another woman on God's footstool with quite the same tilt to her head, the same heavy coils of tawny hair and unfathomable eyes that always met your own so frankly, she recognized the pair of us; though MacRae in uniform must have puzzled her for an instant. "Gordon and Sarge Flood! Where in the world did you come from?
"When it came time for 'Sergeants front and centre' I got to thinkin' how old Sarge Judson used to stalk up as proud as Colonel Wood himself. I 'ad to rub my bloomin' eyes, for large as life, there was Doc Judson with all them whiskered chaps." "Surely, Carrick," interrupted the astonished Carter, "you must be mistaken. You don't mean Sergeant Judson of the First Volunteer Cavalry?"
Ain't that so, Sarge?" he asked. The police officer merely stared at him, he did not answer. Professor Brierly was looking intently at the prisoner. He arose and asked the prisoner to sit in a chair where he would face the light that came in from a tall window. Here, Professor Brierly stepped close to him and, in the manner of a dentist, asked him to open his mouth.
Boulders of all shapes and sizes lay bedded in the soft earth where we stood. "You shin up there, Sarge," Mac commanded, "and locate that mark. It ought to be an easy climb." I "shinned," and reached the ledge with a good deal of skin peeled from various parts of my person.
Altamont went to the open door and looked out. The old Toon Leader, the Reader, Toon Sarge Hughes, his son and four young men in buckskins with slung rifles were standing outside. "I have decided," the Tenant said, "that Mr. Rawson and Sarge Hughes and I would be of more help than an equal number of young men.
The trial cost an awful lot of money, and made enemies, too. Feltz had plenty of friends of his own calibre you know that to your sorrow, don't you, Sarge? and they started trouble on the range. It was simply terrible for a while. Dad can supply the details when he comes."
You have a map to show where they are?" "Not a map, just some information. But we can work out the location of the crypt." "A ritual," Stamford Rawson said happily. "Of course!" They lunched together at the house of Toon Sarge Hughes with the Toon Leader and the Reader and five or six of the leaders of the community.
There you are, Sarge," cried Hyman, while the little Filipino dandy started, peered at the young sergeants and then scowled. "I'll try to fix it for you to get a pass to-night, Corporal," Hal went on, "if you really want one. But I don't exactly believe that you do. This native gentleman tried to butt in with us this afternoon, and at first we took it in good part. But he was too eager.
"Well, will you get up and go to the guardhouse, or have we to carry you there?" shouted the sergeant. The guards laid hold of him gingerly and pulled him up to a sitting posture. "All right, yank him out of bed." The frail form in khaki shirt and whitish drawers was held up for a moment between the two men. Then it fell a limp heap on the floor. "Say, Sarge, he's fainted."
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