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Updated: June 8, 2025
Lane was rather well acquainted with Chief Bell, and in a way there was friendship between them. Bell, for one, had always been sturdily loyal to the soldiers. "Well, Chief, I was having a little friendly game with Mr. Swann and Captain Thesel," drawled Lane. "We got into an argument. And as both were such ferocious fighters I grew afraid they'd hurt me bad so I had to soak them."
He and Dick Swann and Hardy MacLean sometimes drop in at the Armory on Saturday nights. Captain Thesel is chasing Mrs. Clemhorn now. They're always together.... Daren, did he ever have it in for you?" "He never liked me. We never got along here in Middleville. And naturally in the service when he was a captain and I only a private we didn't get along any better."
"Fellows, I'll have to break up your little party," said Lane, coolly. Thesel turned ghastly white, while Swann grew livid with rage. He seemed to expand. His hand went back to his right hip. When Lane got within six feet of them, Swann drew a small automatic pistol. But before he could raise it, Lane had leaped into startling activity. With terrific swing he brought his gun down on Swann's face.
The girl was slim, dainty, gorgeously arrayed, and her keen, fair face bore traces of paint wet by perspiration. Her companion was Captain Vane Thesel, in citizen's garb, well-built, ruddy-faced, with tiny curled moustache. "Hurry, kid," he said, breathlessly, as he pulled at her. "We'll run down and take a spin." "Spiffy! But let's wait till after the next," she replied.
And to-night he cut in on Roy's dance. Roy was sore." "Three. Well, that's not many," replied Lane. "Not enough to get a line on two million, is it?" "Captain Thesel is just like all the other fellows.... But you're not a bit like them." "Is that a compliment or otherwise?" "I'll say it's a compliment," she replied, with arch eyes on his. "Thank you."
Vane Thesel," she said, without wonder or surprise or displeasure, or any expression Lane anticipated. Her strange detachment stirred a hideous thought could Thesel have been.... But Lane killed the culmination of that thought. Not, however, before dark, fiery jealousy touched him with fangs new to his endurance. To drive it away, Lane launched into more narrative of the war.
Then as swiftly he turned on Thesel. Swann had hardly hit the floor, a sodden heap, when Thesel, with bloody visage, reeled and fell like a log. Lane bent over them, ready to beat either back. But both were unconscious. "Daren for God's sake don't murder them!" whispered Lorna, hoarsely. Lane's humanity was in abeyance then, but his self-control did not desert him.
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