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Updated: June 28, 2025
I hinted what was in my mind to MacRae, and when he agreed that it was a possible contingency, we filed out of the treacherous light and squatted in the edge of a quaking-asp grove where we couldn't be seen, and where a coyote, much less a man, couldn't steal up on us without the crackle of dry brush betraying him. "What do you think you'll do, Sarge?"
The loftiest point of the eastern heights is at Yvre l'Eveque, which was once crowned by a renaissance chateau, where Henry of Navarre resided when he reduced Le Mans to submission. Northward from Yvre, in the direction of Savigne, stretches the high plateau of Sarge, which on the west slopes down towards the river Sarthe, and forms one of the most important of the natural defences of Le Mans.
"There's Stony Crossing, Sarge; and over yonder, at the west end of that blue ridge, is Writing-on-the-Stone."
Better ride it out peaceablelike." "Much obliged, Sarge." The original finder of the treasure trove broke from the circle and handed Drew some crackers. "The boys want you should have a taste, too." Drew laughed and began sharing the windfall with the scouts. "Better break it up, soldiers. The General wants us on the move."
"Sarge," the old man told one of the youths, "post a guard over this flying machine. Don't let anybody meddle with it. And have all the noncoms and techs report here, on the double." He turned and shouted up at the truncated steeple: "Atherton, sound 'All Clear!"
Well, this kid comes to the station-house and hollers that she's stole a ring and somebody that ain't had anything to do with it is gettin' pinched fer stealin' it. The kid acts plumb bug-house, but Sarge he says fer me to come around and see wot's up. Wot is she, dippy? Did she re'ly steal a di'mond? This don't look like wot you'd call a likely place to find a di'mond."
A tune came to his head that he played with eagerly for a moment, and then, as memory came to him, tried to efface with a shudder of disgust. "There's the smile that makes you happy, There's the smile that makes you sad." It was almost dark. Two men walked slowly by in front of him. "Sarge, may I speak to you?" came a voice in a whisper. The sergeant grunted.
But his birthday gift Drew's fist closed about the cord jealously that was something he would have, always. Only, nowadays, how long was "always"? "That's a right smart-lookin' mount, Sarge!" Drew looked at the pair of lounging messengers grinning at him from the front porch of headquarters. He loosened the reins and led the bony animal a step or two before mounting.
"Why?" asked somebody savagely. "Troops always leaves at night." "The hell they do!" "Here comes Sarge." Everybody craned their necks in the direction pointed out. The sergeant strolled up with a mysterious smile on his face. "Put away your overcoats and get out your mess kits." Mess kits clattered and gleamed in the slanting rays of the sun.
When you've been with the colors a few years longer you'll be ready to agree that three 'squares' a day and a soft bed at night are miles and miles ahead of desperate charges or last-ditch business." "So the 'Warren' is in port from her last trip south," Hal went on. "Oh, I wonder when we start." "So do a lot of us," retorted Private Kelly. "But we hope it won't be soon, Sarge."
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