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Hal had just glanced again at his watch, noting that the hour was nearly one, when a quiet voice reached him: "Private Bender calls the sergeant!" Hal Overton ran quickly around to the place where Bender stood peering off into the darkness. "Use your glass yonder, Sarge," urged the soldier. "See if you see anything moving." "I do," Hal answered quietly.
Drew could not see which of the troopers had burst out with that, but in his present mood all bluecoats were the enemy. "Dirty Yanks!" Anse’s eyes were fully focused now—right on the sergeant. Anse struggled to get up, but Topham’s hands on his shoulders held him down. His hand went to his holster, and Drew’s fist came down on the Texan’s wrist, hard. "See that thar, Sarge!
There was no hostility, however, in their manner as the old man came forward with outstretched hand. "I am Tenant Mycroft Jones, the Toon Leader here," he said. "This is Stamford Rawson, our Reader, and Verner Hughes, our Toon Sarge. This is his son, Murray Hughes, the Toon Sarge of the Irregulars. "But come into the Aitch-Cue House, gentlemen. We have much to talk about."
Fuselli's mind was full of the army regulations which he had been studying assiduously for the last week. He was thinking of an imaginary examination for the corporalship, which he would pass, of course. When the company was dismissed, he went up familiarly to the top sergeant: "Say, Sarge, doin' anything this evenin'?" "What the hell can a man do when he's broke?" said the top sergeant.
He motioned to the poor devil lying by the fire. "Look at him, Sarge," he went on, in a different tone. "You always had a pretty good memory for faces. So have I, for that matter, but go ahead look." I bent over the man, looked closely at the still features, dropped on one knee and turned his face toward the firelight to make sure.
When it was too late, I could think of half a dozen ways we might have avoided getting held up. "I got you into it, too," MacRae said calmly. "But don't get excited and run on the rope this early in the game, Sarge; you'll only throw yourself. Brace up. We've been in worse holes before."
"Yankees are obligin', one way or another." Drew licked his fingers appreciatively. He had been exploring the sugar supply. "I've missed sweetenin'." "Drink up, boys, and get ready to ride," Wilkins said, coming out of the dark. "We've marchin' orders." Kirby reached for the pot and poured its contents, with careful measurement, into each waiting cup. "Wheah to now, Sarge?
The reflection of clouds in the silvery glisten of the pond's surface was broken by clumps of grasses and bits of floating weeds. They lay on their backs for some time before they started taking their clothes off, looking up at the sky, that seemed vast and free, like the ocean, vaster and freer than the ocean. "Sarge says a delousin' machine's comin' through this way soon." "We need it, Chris."
"I don't think she was there, this morning. But she might be due to arrive there. Hang it all, Mac, what the dickens chased you away from the Canadian?" "Looking back, I can't just say what it was," he presently replied, in a hard, matter-of-fact tone. "You see, one's feelings can change, Sarge. It looks different to me now than it did then.
"A camp-fire would hardly flash and die out like that, Sarge," he answered thoughtfully. "At least, not an ordinary one. There are some folk in this country, you know, who manifest a very retiring disposition at times. That looks to me like a blind fire or a signal. Let's wait a minute."
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