x vN 
 
 MARGARET MOORE MATLACK
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 UNIT. OF CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGELES
 
 Is n't the house adorable ? " FRONTISPIECE. See page 65.
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGARET MOORE MATLACK 
 
 WITH HJ.U8TRATIONB BT 
 
 NANA FRENCH BICKFORD 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 1940
 
 
 Copyright, 19&0, 
 BT LITTLB, BKOWN, AND COMPAHT. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 Published September, 1920 
 
 NottoooU 
 
 Set up and electrotyped by J. S. Gushing Co. 
 Norwood, Mas., U.S.A. 

 
 So 
 MY YOUNG SISTERS 
 
 2131541
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I ORDERED SOUTH . . . i . 1 
 
 II I GO TO A DANCE AND LEARN A SECRET 15 
 
 III ON BOARD THE Guiana . . .37 
 
 IV CHARLOTTE AMALIE . . . .. 56 
 V WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL . 74 
 
 VI WHITES AND GREENS . . . . 89 
 VII I AM GIVEN A PRESENT AND INTRO- 
 DUCED TO AN OLD FRIEND . . 100 
 VIII I GO EXPLORING . . ; . . 115 
 IX LAZY DAYS . . ... . 125 
 
 X AT "LA PATRIE" . . . . .141 
 
 XI A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS . . . 156 
 XII THE NEW YEAR'S FETE . . .171 
 
 XIII THE INEXPLICABLE MURDOCK . . 183 
 
 XIV I WRITE A LETTER AND MAKE A BET 195 
 
 XV A SCRAP OF PAPER AND A BASKETBALL 
 
 GAME 209 
 
 XVI A VISIT FROM THE COMMISSION . . 224 
 
 XVII I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER . 235 
 
 XVIII BILLY EXPLAINS 250 
 
 XIX Semper Fidefo . ' . . . . 265
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " Is n't the house adorable ? " . . . Frontispiece 
 
 She studied her reflection in the mirror, 
 smiled, rolled her eyes and changed to 
 the other elbow PAGE 137 
 
 Horrid, ghostly echoes were the only 
 
 answer " 241 
 
 " The whole blessed United States is our 
 
 home" . " 276
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ORDERED SOUTH 
 
 "W" ANE, have you done your algebra ?" 
 It was Martha asking it, of course. 
 ^^ She knew perfectly well that I had n't 
 done my algebra, or my English, or anything 
 else, for I had just come over from the 
 barracks and plunked down on the daven- 
 port in front of the open fire to dry off. 
 Martha is only three years older than I 
 am, but she often tries to act as though 
 she were my mother. 
 
 "I have not; and I 'm not going to," 
 I told her quite frankly, and quickly took 
 the offensive. "If you want to know 
 what I think, Martha Graves, I think you 
 ought to be ashamed of yourself even to
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 mention such such trivial things as les- 
 sons, when Father is coming home from 
 Washington to-night and will probably 
 have his orders with him ! " 
 
 Martha tried to look scornful and pre- 
 tended to be very busy with her Caesar, 
 but pretty soon she came over and sat on 
 the davenport beside me. 
 
 "Where do you suppose we '11 be sent?" 
 she demanded, as eagerly as though that 
 same question had n't been asked at least 
 fifty times a day since Daddy came back 
 from France the month before with three 
 service stripes and a commission as a 
 lieutenant-colonel . 
 
 "I told you I was betting on the Philip- 
 pines," I answered carelessly. Martha 
 hated uncivilized places, so I always guessed 
 them. 
 
 "But, Jane, we 've been there," she 
 argued, as usual, "and we 've never been 
 to New York or to San Francisco. Oh! 
 I do hope and pray it 's a big city ! "
 
 ORDERED SOUTH 
 
 "Wherever it is, we won't have as much 
 fun as we Ve had here at Norfolk," I 
 prophesied gloomily, kicking the andirons 
 crossly at the thought of leaving. 
 
 Just then the gong rang for dinner, and 
 before we had reached our favorite "float- 
 ing-island-with- jelly " dessert, which Jimmy 
 reported having seen in the kitchen, in 
 walked Father. 
 
 We all jumped up from the table and 
 rushed at him shrieking: "Did you get 
 'em?" "Did you find out?" "Where 
 are we going?" 
 
 But he just smiled and went over to 
 kiss Mother, who was sitting there as 
 calmly as though it made no difference to 
 her whether we were sent to Timbuctoo or 
 the Desert of Sahara. Then he kissed each 
 of us, very deliberately which seemed 
 rather superfluous under the circumstances, 
 especially as he had only been gone a day. 
 We thought he never would speak, and 
 when he finally did, it was only to ask :
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "Well, Redhead (my hair is really light 
 brown and not much of it at that, being 
 bobbed, but Dad likes to tease) Well, 
 Redhead, what was your bet?" 
 
 "Philippines," I replied promptly. 
 
 " Mine was New York," Martha shouted, 
 forgetting for once to be dignified. 
 
 "And mine wath Alathka, to thee the 
 Ethkimoeth," Jimmy added gravely. 
 
 "Then I 'm afraid you all lose," said 
 Father, his eyes twinkling. "I'm ordered 
 to take charge of the Marine Base at St. 
 Thomas, one of the Virgin Islands." 
 
 For at least a minute we were too dum- 
 founded to say a word. Then we all began 
 asking questions at once, until Dad put 
 his fingers in his ears and shook his head 
 at us frantically. 
 
 "One at a time, one at a time! "he 
 begged. "No, Mother, I didn't know 
 myself that there was a Marine station 
 there. It has only recently been estab- 
 lished.
 
 ORDERED SOUTH 
 
 "Why, Marty, I 'm surprised at you. 
 Don't they teach geography and history 
 at the estimable Miss Mooney's? The 
 Virgin Islands, formerly the Danish West 
 Indies, were bought by this country in 
 March, 1917. St. Thomas is the next to 
 largest of the three islands in the group, 
 and as it 's said to be 'on the way to every 
 other place in the world ', it is a mighty good 
 spot for a naval base. 
 
 "Where is it? In the Atlantic Ocean, 
 about forty miles south of Porto Rico. It 
 is approximately thirteen miles long by 
 two miles wide; the population is ninety 
 per cent, black ; the climate " 
 
 "All right, Stan," Mother interrupted, 
 laughing. "You 're getting mighty statis- 
 tical all of a sudden. What 's that in your 
 overcoat pocket?" 
 
 Dad admitted, with a chuckle, that he 
 had been "studying up the situation" a 
 little coming down on the train and meekly 
 handed over a small red book, with a
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 gold-lettered title "Our Newest Posses- 
 sions." 
 
 Jimmy and I were standing with our 
 mouths open, not sure what we thought 
 about it all, but Martha had evidently 
 decided, for she turned to Father, looking 
 as though she were going to cry any minute, 
 and raised her voice in protest. 
 
 "Oh, Father, I don't want to go to a 
 horrid old wild island with nothing but 
 black people on it," she wailed. "Why 
 did they have to choose you for that ? It 's 
 not fair ; not one bit." 
 
 Dad stared at her for a minute and then 
 at us, and I guess we were n't looking espe- 
 cially happy either, for all the laughter died 
 out of his face, and he said almost sternly : 
 
 "Those were my orders, Martha, and 
 I did not care to dispute them. I am sorry 
 that it means taking you away from the 
 good friends you have made and the school 
 you like so much. But if you youngsters 
 want to keep on being the children of a
 
 ORDERED SOUTH 
 
 Marine officer (and we hope you are n't 
 going to disown us just yet, don't we, 
 Mother?) you still have a lot of moving 
 around before you. Some places are bound 
 to be more attractive than others, but I 
 thought you would probably like the idea 
 of going to any place as new and interest- 
 ing as St. Thomas." 
 
 "They will like it, once they get used to 
 the thought of leaving," Mother put in 
 quietly. "It 's still hard for me to pull up 
 stakes and move on every few years, and 
 this is the first time Martha and Jane have 
 been old enough to fully realize what it 
 means. It 's especially hard this time, 
 because Norfolk has been so lovely, and 
 being here over three years has made it 
 seem like a real home." 
 
 When Mother had finished her little 
 speech, Martha shamefacedly murmured 
 something about not meaning what she 
 had said, and I tried to look as though St. 
 Thomas were the one place in the world I
 
 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 would have chosen to go to. But it took 
 Jimmy to say the truly diplomatic thing. 
 
 "I don't care where we go," he assured 
 Father, with as much dignity as though he 
 were eighty instead of eight and had never 
 heard of such a thing as losing two front 
 teeth and acquiring in their place a most 
 astonishing lisp. "It doeth n't make any 
 differenth where we are, tho long ath we are 
 with the Marinth!" 
 
 That made us laugh, though Jimmy was 
 quite hurt that it should, and we sat down 
 at the table again and did full justice to 
 
 the floating island, while Daddy read to us 
 
 
 
 from "Our Newest Possessions." 
 
 Afterwards they all went into the living 
 room to talk it over around the fire. But 
 I begged Father to take me over to the 
 company canteen to tell the men the news, 
 and Mother finally said that I might go if 
 I put on my raincoat and overshoes, and 
 took an umbrella, and did n't stay more 
 than an hour.
 
 ORDERED SOUTH 
 
 While I was in the hall closet hunting for 
 my rubbers, I heard Martha say : "I don't 
 see why you let her hang around the bar- 
 racks all the time, Mother. Why does she 
 want to be with those common men, any- 
 how?" 
 
 Father answered her, and I could n't 
 hear what he said, but I felt sure he was 
 standing up for his men, for he loved them 
 almost as much as he did his own chil- 
 dren. 
 
 I made a face at Martha, in the dark, 
 for being a snob. She liked the officers 
 well enough, and when once in a while 
 Mother let her go to one of the dances, she 
 did her hair up high and tried to look as 
 though she were twenty instead of just 
 barely sixteen. Of course she did n't de- 
 ceive any one, but all the young lieutenants 
 and even some of the older officers liked to 
 dance with her anyhow. She was cer- 
 tainly pretty, with her vivid coloring and 
 dark hair and eyes, and a nose that was
 
 10 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 nice and straight instead of turned up like 
 Jimmy's and mine. 
 
 Personally I thought most officers were 
 silly fops and could n't see why she wanted 
 to waste time at dances. 
 
 I had been thinking all these things as 
 we went out of the house and down the 
 long wooden board walk that led past the 
 mess hall and over to the canteen in one of 
 the barracks that had been the private and 
 exclusive loafing place, since their return 
 from France, of Father's first company, 
 "D" of the -nth Regiment. The rain was 
 pouring down, and it was really cold, 
 although almost the first of April, and I was 
 mighty glad when we reached the warm 
 room. 
 
 There was a fire burning in the big stone 
 fireplace, and the air was so thick with 
 tobacco smoke that at first I could n't 
 recognize any one. Then the men saw 
 Father's uniform and sprang to attention; 
 but he grinned, banished formality with a
 
 ORDERED SOUTH 11 
 
 wave of his hand and moved over to the 
 fire. 
 
 "Hey, boys," some one shouted, "it 's 
 Sergeant Jane ! Come along !" 
 
 Dad burst out laughing. " So that 's 
 what they've christened you, is it?" he 
 asked. "And since when has it been 
 customary to announce a sergeant and 
 ignore a colonel?" 
 
 I knew he was only teasing, but some of 
 the men looked embarrassed, so I changed 
 the subject by announcing all in one 
 breath : 
 
 "We 've been ordered to St. Thomas of 
 the Virgin Islands of the United States of 
 America, and Father 's in charge of the 
 Post." 
 
 "Hurrah !" "Bully for him !" "Three 
 cheers for the Colonel !" they shouted, and 
 then, in a regular volley "Where?" 
 "What?" "When?" 
 
 After we had taken off our raincoats and 
 pulled up chairs to the fire, Father told
 
 12 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 them all about it, and he made it sound so 
 interesting that I could hardly wait to get 
 there. 
 
 But when we got up to leave and the 
 men, embarrassed and awkward, mumbled 
 "sure will miss you" and "hate to see you 
 all leave Norfolk" and such things, I 
 seemed to lose interest in the West Indies. 
 I think Dad did, too ; at least he was very 
 quiet walking home and held my arm 
 tight under the big umbrella. 
 
 But just as we came to the house, he 
 chuckled to himself and asked why they 
 called me sergeant. 
 
 " Company D adopted me for their mas- 
 cot," I explained. "It was just before 
 they sailed for France. They wanted to 
 make me a captain, but of course I would n't 
 be an officer, so we corn-compromised on 
 a non-com." 
 
 He laughed some more at that, and 
 insisted upon stopping on the top step and 
 singing:
 
 ORDERED SOUTH 13 
 
 " Sergeant Jane of the Yank marines, 
 She fed her men on pork and beans, 
 Which really were beyond the means 
 Of a Sergeant in the Army ! " 
 
 "Which same is no joke in these days 
 of the H. C. L.," he added, putting down 
 the umbrella. 
 
 "Hush, Daddy," I begged, "Martha 
 might hear you, and she 'd make fun of 
 me forever over this Sergeant business." 
 
 "Just as you say, my dear," he replied, 
 pretending to become suddenly very grave 
 and dignified. "But, since you have joined 
 the marines Attention, Sergeant Jane." 
 
 "Yes, sir," I replied, clicking my heels 
 into place. 
 
 "You understand that your position 
 demands of you loyal allegiance to your 
 country and your flag, and perfect obedi- 
 ence to your superior officers?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," I repeated. 
 
 "Very well, then. Sergeant Jane, for- 
 ward march to bed."
 
 14 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 I thought that was taking a mean advan- 
 tage of a soldier and a lady, but there was 
 nothing to do but obey ; so I shouldered the 
 umbrella and marched into the hall, whis- 
 tling "Semper Fidelis" with much feeling, 
 if a trifle off the key, to show how I felt 
 about it.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 I GO TO A DANCE AND LEARN A SECRET 
 
 NEARLY a month after we had been 
 ordered to the Virgin Islands, I 
 was having a farewell game of ten- 
 nis with my old friend, Corporal O'Hara, 
 on the bumpy, grass-filled court back of 
 the mess hall, when Jimmy suddenly ap- 
 peared around the corner of the building 
 and announced that Mother wanted me to 
 come home. 
 
 "Oh, Joshua !" O'Hara grunted. "Ain't 
 that the worst luck?" 
 
 "Maybe I can come back " I began, 
 but Jimmy interrupted to explain that 
 Mother wanted me "right away and for 
 keepth." So I promised to try to play 
 again before we left, although I was almost
 
 16 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 sure there would n't be a chance, and 
 followed Jimmy reluctantly to the house. 
 
 When I got there, everything was so 
 quiet that just dropping my racket on 
 the floor sounded like the beginning of a 
 barrage. Mother stuck her head over the 
 railing with a warning "sh !" and beckoned 
 me mysteriously to her room. 
 
 "Jane," she asked, when I had stepped 
 inside and closed the door after me, "where 
 have you been ? Don't you know that the 
 Junior Officers' dance is to-night and I told 
 you girls that you could n't go unless you 
 rested this afternoon? Martha is sleeping 
 now." 
 
 "Oh, Joshua!" I burst out, without 
 thinking. "Is that what you made me 
 stop in the middle of a deuce set for? 
 I 'IQ not going to take a nap, because I 'm 
 not going to the dance. Oh, Joshua!" 
 
 "What a ridiculous expression, Jane! 
 You must n't use it. And of course you 're 
 going to the dance. It 's the last thing
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 17 
 
 given in our honor before we leave, and 
 they will feel hurt if the whole family is n't 
 there." 
 
 "But I Ve been to two teas and that 
 deadly reception and the school concert, 
 and I can't stand another thing, Mother. 
 Please let me go play with O'Hara and stay 
 home this evening." 
 
 "You 're a funny child, Janey. I don't 
 believe many girls of thirteen would beg to 
 stay away from a military dance. I don't 
 like to make you go if you don't want to, 
 dear, but you need only stay long enough 
 to speak to some of the people, and it will 
 be the last dance you '11 have to worry 
 about for a long, long time. Next time 
 you go to one, you '11 have to beg for per- 
 mission." 
 
 "Then next time will be never," I 
 muttered. "All right, I '11 go shake hands 
 with the silly fops this once more." 
 
 And I stalked out of the room before 
 Mother could scold me for saying silly
 
 18 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 fops, which is English and very expressive 
 but not supposed to be used about officers. 
 
 I lay down on my bed and tried to forget 
 my troubles in a detective story, but 
 before the corpse-to-be had even been shot, 
 in walked Martha, dressed in her best 
 rose-colored kimono and a boudoir cap she 
 had resurrected from goodness knows 
 where. At first I did n't say a word, for 
 I knew she was just trying to get me 
 excited, but when she sat down at my 
 dressing table and began rubbing massage 
 cream into her face, I could n't stand it any 
 longer. 
 
 "Of all vain creatures, Martha Graves," 
 I exploded, "you take the first prize! 
 Curlers and cold cream, and next I suppose 
 you '11 be using rouge. Oh, Joshua ! You 
 make me sick!" 
 
 "My dear Jane, where do you pick up 
 such expressions?" Martha looked at me 
 the way Mrs. General Payne does at any 
 poor unfortunate woman who happens to
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 19 
 
 take her favorite seat in chapel, only a dab 
 of cold cream on her chin and the bumpy 
 knobs under the boudoir cap rather spoiled 
 the effect. "Really, I can't understand 
 why Mother lets you associate with those 
 dreadful men and learn to use such vulgar 
 expressions." 
 
 "I did not learn it from them, and they 
 are n't dreadful and it 's not vulgar," I 
 replied indignantly. 
 
 "Well, where did you hear it then?" 
 
 " Why why I heard an officer say 
 it this very afternoon; that 's where I 
 heard it. It 's his favorite expression." 
 (O'Hara 's as much of an officer, in my 
 opinion, as the General himself, but I 
 did n't think it necessary to explain this 
 to Martha.) 
 
 She evidently took the officer for what 
 he was worth, as she did n't say anything 
 further on the subject. Instead she began 
 talking about the dance, and the Latin 
 exam to-morrow, and how she hated to
 
 . 
 
 20 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 leave Norfolk, and wondering whether there 
 .would be any saxophones in the band that 
 night and whether there would be any nice 
 people at St. Thomas. Martha is so funny 
 when she gets started on a dozen different 
 subjects at once that you can't help laugh- 
 ing at her, and when she pulled off her cap 
 and stood all her curlers on end and did 
 what she called a Virgin Island cakewalk, 
 we both giggled so much that Mother 
 came in and scolded us for not resting. 
 
 When Martha forgets to pretend she 's 
 grown up and does n't remember how 
 attractive she is, I don't know a better 
 sport. But by the time we were ready to 
 start over to the dance that evening, her 
 memory was in extra good working order, 
 and in a frilly pink and white organdie, with 
 her hair done in imitation of her favorite 
 movie actress, she looked at least eighteen. 
 
 Father, coming down the stairs in all the 
 blue and red and gold glory of his full 
 dress, pretended to stagger with surprise.
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 21 
 
 "Who is this, Mother? I don't believe 
 I Ve been introduced, have I ? " he asked, 
 bowing politely to Martha, who blushed 
 and told him not to be silly and please to 
 come along, it was half-past eight. 
 
 The officers' mess hall was hung with 
 flags, and there were flowers and ferns in 
 all the corners. The Marine Band was tun- 
 ing up on a raised platform at one end of 
 the floor, which was already half filled with 
 officers and Norfolk girls. The bright-col- 
 ored dresses and the uniforms moving around 
 together looked mighty pretty, I thought. 
 Even the dignified receiving line had 
 splashes of color in it. My own family 
 had been installed at the head of the line 
 and it was fun to watch Father's courtly 
 bow and the gracious smile Mother gave 
 to new arrivals. 
 
 If you could come to them as a dis- 
 embodied spirit, dances might not be so 
 bad, I decided. And the next minute I 
 found myself, dreadfully conscious of a
 
 22 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 much too childish white dress and squeaky 
 patent-leather slippers, being dragged out 
 of the friendly shelter of the dressing 
 room and into the very midst of the receiv- 
 ing line by my heartless sister. 
 
 For what seemed like endless hours, we 
 stood side by side and shook hands with 
 benevolent old colonels and their stately 
 wives, with brisk, hearty majors and fop- 
 pish lieutenants, and with pretty girls and 
 more foppish lieutenants, and with captains, 
 and with the General and Mrs. General, 
 and with still more lieutenants. 
 
 Finally some of the lieutenants took 
 Martha away and began dancing with her. 
 After I had danced dutifully with Father 
 and several nice but rather stout majors, 
 Mother took pity on me and promised 
 that if I would sit down beside her for just 
 a few minutes, Father would take me 
 home. 
 
 But before Father could get away, a 
 plump, warm-looking, little lieutenant
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 23 
 
 named Chase came trotting over to me, 
 with another man, bigger and darker and 
 not so overheated, in tow. 
 
 "This is Lieutenant Duncan, Redhead," 
 he remarked patronizingly and disappeared. 
 
 "I Ve been hoping to meet you, Miss 
 Graves," the Duncan person began. " I Ve 
 heard a lot about you, you know." 
 
 He was an especially young lieutenant 
 and especially good-looking, so I knew that 
 he must be even more than ordinarily 
 conceited and foppish, and I did n't care 
 how rude I was. 
 
 "You probably refer to my sister, 
 Martha," I said coldly. "She 's over there 
 by the punch bowl. I 'm Jane ; and I 'm 
 going home now, anyhow." 
 
 "But it 's Jane I 'm looking for," he 
 answered, laughing and screwing up his 
 face until he did n't look so hopelessly 
 handsome, after all. "Sergeant Jane, that 
 is. I bring greetings to her from Corporal 
 Timmons."
 
 24 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "Timmons!" I cried, forgetting to be 
 even cool. "Where is he? How is he? 
 Does he remember me?" 
 
 "He 's stationed at the Marine Barracks 
 at St. Thomas and was extremely hale and 
 hearty the last time I saw him, some ten 
 days or so ago. As for remembering you 
 I should say about two thirds of his 
 conversation was on the subject of Sergeant 
 Jane and the glorious glory of Company D ! " 
 
 Lieutenant Duncan grinned to himself 
 at the thought of Timmons's conversational 
 limits. 
 
 "Oh, Joshua! Isn't that great?" I 
 grinned back. "Just to think of his being 
 in the Virgin Islands. He 's one of my 
 oldest friends and was in Father's favorite 
 company, and we lost track of him after 
 he was wounded in France and have n't 
 seen him or heard from him for ages. 
 Please tell me all about him. And tell 
 me all about St. Thomas, because we J re 
 going there soon."
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 25 
 
 "That 's rather a large order, but I '11 
 do my best," he promised. "That is, of 
 course, if you don't mind not going home 
 just yet ? " 
 
 I knew he was laughing at me, but I 
 did n't care, I was so anxious to hear about 
 Timmons, and besides, Mr. Duncan was 
 the most human lieutenant I had ever met. 
 1 even danced with him a couple of times, 
 when he said he would have to be bribed 
 to give away any information of value to 
 the enemy. 
 
 Then I told Father that Lieutenant 
 Duncan would take me home, and after 
 I had found my cape, we went over and 
 sat on the front steps of our house and 
 talked. 
 
 "Timmons was discharged from the hos- 
 pital before the armistice was signed," he 
 told me. "But he was transferred to a 
 different company, and after he came home 
 was stationed for a little while at Phila- 
 delphia and then sent to St. Thomas. He
 
 26 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 knows that you all are coming down there 
 and is just about counting the days. 
 
 "He 's making you a present, too," he 
 concluded. "But that 's a secret." 
 
 I begged him to tell me what it was, but 
 instead he began talking about his own 
 experiences during the six months he was 
 at St. Thomas, helping to supervise the 
 renovation of the old barracks and the 
 building of new ones, and putting in 
 electric lights and a garage and a new 
 wharf and all sorts of improvements. 
 
 "You see, I was an engineer before I 
 joined the marines," he explained. "After 
 the war was over, I decided to stick to the 
 service and, as a reward, I guess got sent 
 to the Virgin Islands." 
 
 "Did you like St. Thomas so much?" 
 I asked in surprise. 
 
 " Crazy about it. But you '11 see why 
 for yourself when you get there, and I 'm 
 not going to spoil it for you by telling you 
 too much beforehand."
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 27 
 
 "I'll probably hate it," I replied, just 
 to be contrary. "I don't want to leave 
 Norfolk a bit." 
 
 "Just wait until you 've spent a month 
 in Charlotte Amalie and see if you don't 
 love it," he prophesied. "Now come along 
 and dance the rest of the dances with 
 me." 
 
 " What for ? " I demanded. " You are n't 
 going to tell me anything else, and I 'm 
 sleepy." 
 
 "I see it's my turn to bribe," he 
 chuckled. "Suppose I told you a St. 
 Thomas secret that nobody else in this whole 
 wide world knows anything about ? " 
 
 "Then I would dance all you wanted me 
 to," I assured him promptly. 
 
 "All right, Sergeant Jane. It 's a go. 
 But first you must swear to solemn secrecy." 
 
 "Just how do you do that?" I asked 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "Kneel down on the lowest step," he 
 commanded. "Lower your head until it
 
 28 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 touches the step above and repeat the 
 alphabet backwards." 
 
 I did it as well as I could for giggling; 
 and then he told me to stand on the ground 
 below him with my hands behind my back 
 and my feet crossed. 
 
 "Now," he ordered sternly, when he 
 had me fixed to suit him, "say after me 
 slowly : 
 
 " If ever this secret I betray 
 Then sky-blue-pink may I turn next day ! " 
 
 "Then sky-blue-pink may I turn next 
 day," I repeated meekly. "But why not 
 until the next day ?" 
 
 "That 's irrelevant and irreverent," he 
 replied sternly. "Sit down." 
 
 I was beginning to be afraid that all this 
 nonsense was because there really was n't 
 any secret, but as soon as I had seated my- 
 self beside him on the steps, he began in a 
 mysterious half -whisper : 
 
 "Once upon a time there was an organi- 
 zation known as the Danish West Indies
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 29 
 
 Company. It was a wealthy and powerful 
 company, with headquarters in Denmark 
 and branches in all the Danish colonies in 
 the West Indies. An especially successful 
 commerce was being carried on with its 
 flourishing settlement in St. Thomas. 
 
 "And then one day, out of a clear sky, the 
 British fleet (which was then, as now, the 
 largest in the world and did n't leave many 
 places unvisited) came sailing into the 
 harbor at Charlotte Amalie, with guns 
 booming and flags flying. The peaceful and 
 wholly unprepared Danes put up only the 
 feeblest resistance, and the British soon 
 took possession of St. Thomas, as well as 
 of its sister islands, St. John and St. Croix. 
 
 "The people were unhappy and dis- 
 satisfied under English occupation, but 
 fortunately it lasted less than a year, for in 
 1802, by the Treaty of Amiens, the islands 
 were given back to Denmark. 
 
 "But the Danes had learned a lesson and 
 decided that no enemy would catch them
 
 30 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 unprepared again. On the water front of 
 Charlotte Amalie stood a great red fort 
 that had been erected way back in the 
 seventeenth century by Governor Iverson. 
 They strengthened its walls, fashioned new 
 loopholes and brought in cannon until it 
 fairly bristled. Then they sat down to wait 
 for the British to start something again. 
 
 "And sure enough, about five years 
 after then' first conquest, back came the 
 English, under Admiral Cochrane. This 
 time the St. Thomians put up a good fight, 
 and even after the town itself had sur- 
 rendered, a band of men held out against 
 the British for weeks in the fortress, al- 
 though they were besieged from both land 
 and sea. 
 
 "The English evidently found the Virgin 
 Islands a pretty hot proposition to manage, 
 for they handed them back again in 1815, 
 and they have belonged to Denmark ever 
 since until the United States bought 
 them two years ago."
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 31 
 
 "That 's very interesting," I said politely, 
 as he seemed to have finished, "and I'm 
 sure you would make a fine history teacher. 
 But I don't see why it 's a secret." 
 
 "Oh, I have n't gotten to the secret yet," 
 he assured me. "That was just intro- 
 duction. How do you suppose those men 
 managed to live in the fort for weeks, when 
 they were cut off from all communication 
 and all supplies ? " 
 
 "There weren't any airplanes then, or 
 submarines. I don't know unless they 
 had a secret passage of some kind." 
 
 "You 've guessed it first shot. And 
 finding it again after all these years is the 
 secret." 
 
 "But where did it go? I should think 
 the British would have been all around the 
 fort." 
 
 "They were. But they trusted to the 
 lookouts on the battle ships to watch the side 
 of the tower toward the harbor, and on a 
 dark night a small rowboat could come
 
 32 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 quietly along the coast, about a hundred rods 
 from shore, without being noticed either by 
 those lookouts or by the sentries on guard 
 in front of the fortress." 
 
 "But where did it land? And how did 
 they get into the fort? " 
 
 "There is a narrow strip of land around 
 the building, on which they evidently 
 beached their boats. In one of the walls 
 facing the sea is a cunningly contrived 
 stone door, which opens into a long narrow 
 room or passage. At the other end of this 
 passage is the door leading into the cellar 
 of the fortress." 
 
 "That is a regular secret," I admitted. 
 "How did you ever happen to discover the 
 passage, and how did you find out what it 
 had been used for?" 
 
 "We were getting ready to use the fort 
 as a hospital and guardhouse for our men, 
 and I was poking around in the cellar to 
 see how damp it was, when I accidentally 
 touched one of the hinges of the secret door.
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 33 
 
 The key was rusted in the lock on the 
 cellar side. When I finally managed to 
 turn it and get into the room on the other 
 side, I found it as musty and cobwebby 
 as though it had n't been disturbed since 
 the loyal Danes brought up their last load 
 of supplies to their townsmen imprisoned 
 in the fort over a hundred years ago. And 
 I don't believe it had." 
 
 "But how did you know about the 
 Danes?" I persisted. 
 
 "That 's partly guesswork," he ad- 
 mitted with a laugh. "But I talked with 
 a lot of old inhabitants and hunted up 
 some local histories, and I got enough dope 
 to build up my theory." 
 
 "And then what did you do?" I asked 
 eagerly. 
 
 "Nothing very romantic, I'm afraid. 
 I cleaned out the room in the walls, after 
 I 'd located the other end of the pas- 
 sage, of course, and I took down an old 
 rug and some chairs and pillows and
 
 34 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 rigged up an electric light, and on blazing 
 hot days I bet I had the coolest loafing 
 place on the whole island. I never told 
 anybody about it, and when I came away 
 I locked it up and left it just as it was, 
 hoping that sometime I could go back and 
 visit it again. But you have the secret, 
 so I 'm going to give you the key, too." 
 
 And before I could protest he had un- 
 buttoned his coat, taken from around his 
 neck a long chain with a big, old-fashioned 
 key hanging from it and handed the whole 
 thing to me. 
 
 "The outer door opens to the touch, on 
 a sort of spring, I suppose, so this is all you 
 need to get into our secret," he said. 
 
 "But I don't want to take your key," 
 I protested. "Suppose you come back 
 some day and want to get in." 
 
 "Then you '11 have to be there to open 
 the door. I have a hunch you will, too. 
 And now let 's dance." 
 
 We went back to the mess hall and were
 
 I GO TO A DANCE 35 
 
 just starting to waltz, when I happened to 
 hear Martha's voice, which is rather high 
 and very carrying when she is excited. 
 "Oh, Joshua! Isn't the music gor- 
 geous?" she was exclaiming to her part- 
 ner. 
 
 That made me giggle, and when I began 
 wondering how many times she had used 
 that "vulgar expression" under the mis- 
 taken impression that it was the pet slang 
 of some especially witty officer, I laughed 
 until I got entirely out of step. Lieu- 
 tenant Duncan stopped dancing in disgust 
 and took me over and made me sit down in 
 the corner and explain. 
 
 He roared when I told him about it, and 
 said that he was going to ask Martha 
 to dance with him, and when she sprang 
 her "Oh, Joshua!" he was going to say 
 very ecstatically: "Oh, Miss Graves, how 
 did you know my first name?" 
 
 But before he had a chance to try it, the 
 band began playing " Good Night, Ladies,"
 
 36 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 and Mother suddenly appeared and hauled 
 me into line to shake hands all over again 
 and say what a lovely time I had had. 
 
 Before I went to bed I took the key off 
 the chain, which was too heavy to wear, 
 and put it around my neck on the blue 
 ribbon out of my nightgown. I started to 
 put it down my back, to act as a cure for 
 nosebleeds in case I ever had any, but I was 
 afraid Martha would see it when she fas- 
 tened my button-in-the-back dresses, so 
 I let it dangle romantically over my heart.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 
 
 WE sailed from New York on the 
 Guiana on the fifteenth of May. 
 But first we went up and stayed 
 for a week at one of the big hotels, so that 
 we could buy clothes and other things that 
 we thought would be hard to get hi the Vir- 
 gin Islands. 
 
 Mother bought us both Norfolk suits 
 with plaid skirts and dark blue coats, to 
 wear on the boat, and blue sailor hats to 
 match, and new capes and shoes and stock- 
 ings and all sorts of thin dresses, voiles 
 and ginghams and pongees and other ma- 
 terials I did n't even know the names of. 
 Martha said it was almost as good as getting 
 a trousseau, but I told her I felt more like
 
 38 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 an explorer, collecting his outfit for a 
 plunge into some savage wilderness. 
 
 When we were n't shopping, we went to 
 the theater or the Hippodrome or the 
 movies, or walked up and down Fifth 
 Avenue, looking at the people and the shops, 
 and stopping every now and then for a 
 fudge sundae at Huyler's or hot chocolate 
 and English muffins in some specially 
 quaint or attractive tearoom. Daddy kept 
 saying that we were "tasting our last for 
 some time of the fruits of civilization, and 
 we had better make the best of them", and 
 we took him at his word. 
 
 One afternoon Mother had to have a 
 suit tried on, and Father was tending to 
 some official business, so we decided to take 
 Jimmy to the Zoo. It was lots of fun, but 
 nothing exciting happened until we were 
 coming home. Then people were shoving 
 so to get on the trolley car that Martha 
 and Jimmy were pushed in ahead of me, 
 and the conductor suddenly shut the door
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 39 
 
 in my face and gave the signal to start. 
 I was wondering what in the world I was 
 going to do, as I did n't have a cent with 
 me, when the car, which was just beginning 
 to get under way, stopped with an awful 
 jerk, and the door flew open. The con- 
 ductor stuck his head out, beckoned to me 
 and shouted, "Jane ! Jane !" 
 
 I was so astonished I just stood there until 
 some one gave me a friendly boost, and I 
 was squeezed on to the platform of the car. 
 All the passengers were grinning, and some 
 of them laughing out loud, and Martha 
 was standing there, looking very stiff and 
 dignified and clutching Jimmy, who stam- 
 mered and giggled and finally overcame 
 her frantic attempts to keep him from 
 speaking. 
 
 "Thithter, thithter, oh, Jane," he stut- 
 tered, "when thithter thaw you were thut 
 out, the thaid to the conductor 'Pleath, 
 conductor, pleath let Jane get on; the 
 hath n't any money ! ' "
 
 40 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 Of course Martha denied it outright, but 
 the conductor had certainly called me Jane, 
 and we teased her about it until she blushed 
 at the sight of a blue uniform with brass 
 buttons. 
 
 When the fifteenth finally came, a lot of 
 Father's friends and some of the marines 
 from Norfolk, who had come up to New 
 York on leave, were down at the wharf to 
 see us sail. As the ship moved slowly into 
 the harbor, behind her busy little tug, we 
 stood at the rail and waved and waved 
 until we could n't see a single khaki-clad 
 figure. Then we waved to the Woolworth 
 Building and the Metropolitan tower and 
 the whole good, old sky line and began to 
 feel homesick and blue and lonely, until 
 Jimmy, giving one last flip of his cap for 
 good measure, shouted blithely : 
 
 "Hi, everybody, come on down to the 
 thateroomth and thee all the thtuff !" 
 
 "Yes, we 'd better go get our things 
 straightened out a little," Mother agreed
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 41 
 
 with a smile, although I was sure I had 
 seen her wipe away a perfectly good tear 
 the moment before. 
 
 We all went tumbling down the stairs 
 and found our three staterooms piled with 
 flowers and baskets of fruit and boxes of 
 candy. 
 
 "Um'm chocolate peppermints!" I 
 cried, opening a big box bearing my name. 
 The envelope inside was addressed to 
 "Sergeant Jane," and I hastily stuck it in 
 the pocket of my coat, but the rest of the 
 family were too busy with their own 
 packages to notice. The card was Lieu- 
 tenant Duncan's, and on the back of it was 
 written "Good luck and bon voyage to the 
 Wearer of the Key!" 
 
 I hurriedly felt for the key and found it 
 safe, and then and there resolved to explore 
 the passage as soon as I got to St. Thomas 
 and to write Lieutenant Robert James 
 Duncan all about it. 
 
 By the time we had put the flowers in
 
 42 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 water, sampled most of the other presents 
 and unpacked a few of our belongings, the 
 gong rang for dinner, and as we hurried down 
 to the dining saloon we began to feel that 
 we were really on our way to the Virgin 
 Islands. 
 
 None of us had been on a big steamer 
 since we came up from the Philippines six 
 years before, so Jimmy and I explored 
 every inch of the boat from the bridge 
 to the engine room and had long talks 
 with the purser and the second officer, a 
 Mr. Blum, who was red-faced and jolly 
 and said he had a little boy just Jimmy's 
 age. 
 
 "Can't you have it a little rougher for 
 uth, thir?" Jimmy asked him politely, 
 the second day out, for the sea had been as 
 smooth as a lily pond. 
 
 Mr. Blum threw back his head and 
 roared good-naturedly at Jimmy's request. 
 "Well, Sonny," he said gravely, after a 
 minute's consideration, "I don't believe
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 43 
 
 I have much influence in that direction 
 myself, but I could introduce you to the 
 wireless operator." 
 
 "Oh, could we thee him?" Jimmy asked 
 delightedly, and I did n't hang back either 
 when Mr. Blum said, "Sure thing; come 
 along", and started up the stairs. 
 
 We followed him to a little room opening 
 on to the upper deck, where a young man, 
 with red hair and thousands of freckles 
 was sitting in front of a table covered with 
 instruments and papers and rolls of some- 
 thing that looked like the ticker tape I had 
 once seen in a broker's office. 
 
 "Here are some friends of mine, Mc- 
 Kinney," said the second officer. "They 
 would like to talk to you a little, if you can 
 spare the time." 
 
 "Sure, it's time I have plenty of just 
 now," McKinney grinned amiably. "And 
 what can I be after doing for you?" 
 
 "Could you tell us a little about the 
 wireless and show us how it works?" I
 
 44 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 asked eagerly, for I had never been so close 
 to one before. 
 
 "And Mithther Blum thaid maybe you 
 could thee about having the weather a little 
 rougher," Jimmy added bashfully, as the 
 kind-hearted second officer left us to go back 
 to his duties. 
 
 "Faith, and it 's the right station you Ve 
 called this time, both of you," the operator 
 assured us. "This, you '11 notice, is my 
 highly educated young transmitter," he 
 said, pointing to one set of instruments. 
 "It sends out the messages for me. And 
 here 's my faithful receiver that takes them 
 in as fast as the best." 
 
 "But I thought it was a wireless tele- 
 graph, and there are a lot of wires ! " I 
 exclaimed in surprise. 
 
 "Sure, those are the wires that make the 
 current," he explained. "But once the 
 messages are started, they 're carried by 
 waves of electricity through the air. Watch, 
 now ; I 'm going to tap this little key."
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 45 
 
 As he pressed his finger lightly on the key, 
 there was a loud cracking noise, and a 
 bright spark leaped between the two brass 
 knobs in which the wires ended. 
 
 "Goodneth!" cried Jimmy. "What 
 wuth that?" 
 
 "That was a dot," said McKinney, 
 laughing, "and this is a dash." He touched 
 the key again, this time making a regular 
 stream of sparks between the knobs. 
 "That 's how we spell out our messages 
 dot, dash, dash, that 's W. I 'm calling 
 the Washington station up on the Potomac 
 to see about the weather for the young 
 gentleman." 
 
 Fascinated, we watched him tap out the 
 letters over and over again. Suddenly one 
 of the other instruments began tapping of its 
 own accord. 
 
 "It 'th the retheiver!" Jimmy shrieked. 
 
 "Right you are," answered McKinney. 
 "We Ve got them now." And he began 
 rapidly tapping out his message on the key.
 
 46 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 Soon he stopped, and turning to the 
 receiver, picked up the end of the roll of 
 paper tape connected with it. 
 
 "When the waves they '11 soon be sending 
 back to us in reply to our questions reach 
 this little glass tube (which is called by the 
 name of coherer)," he told us, pointing to 
 the different things as he mentioned them, 
 "those bits of nickel and silver floating 
 around in there between the two plugs join 
 together and by so doing make it possible 
 for the current to pass on through them 
 and through these various wires and mag- 
 nets until it sets this inker moving." 
 
 And sure enough, in a few minutes the 
 filings suddenly flew together, and the 
 inker began tapping on the roll of tape, 
 which unwound of its own accord as the 
 message grew longer. 
 
 "How does it know what to tap?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Each wave of electricity that makes 
 it move corresponds with a dot or a dash
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 47 
 
 made in that other wireless station. Here," 
 he said, as the tapping ceased, tearing off 
 the tape and handing it to me, "you and 
 the boy can spell this out for yourselves 
 while I get off some other messages." 
 
 He pulled up two chairs for us on the 
 opposite side of the table and gave me a 
 little red book, open at a page of dots and 
 dashes. 
 
 " It 'th the Morthe code," Jimmy whis- 
 pered reverently, as we bent our heads to- 
 gether over the little black marks. "I feel 
 jutht like a detective thtory." 
 
 Slowly and with frequent assistance from 
 our agreeable Irish friend, we spelled out 
 the message, and I wrote it down : 
 
 "Weather cloudy in Eastern and South- 
 eastern States. Storm center moving down 
 from the Great Lakes. Also indications of 
 heavy winds from north during next twenty- 
 four hours." 
 
 "Looks as though you '11 be having a bit 
 of a blow yet, young man," McEanney
 
 48 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 remarked, when we had finished. "And 
 then we '11 have a chance to see what sort 
 of a sailor you are." 
 
 " I 'm not any kind of a thailor," Jimmy 
 retorted indignantly, "I 'm a marine." 
 
 And after that I naturally had to explain 
 who we were and where we were going. 
 
 "Well, well, so you 're bound for St. 
 Thomas." The wireless operator squinted 
 his eyes reflectively. " It 's an extremely 
 pretty spot ; but I don't believe I 'd want 
 to live there all year round. Still, they 're 
 talking of putting in a big wireless station, 
 and in that case I might consider it." He 
 patted the coherer lovingly and became 
 greatly embarrassed when I tried to thank 
 him for his kindness. 
 
 " Come again, come again ! " he shouted 
 after us as we left. " Next time I '11 teach 
 you how to send a message yourselves." 
 
 " Wath n't that fun, Jane ? " demanded 
 Jimmy, skipping along the deck to relieve 
 his feelings. "If I weren't going to be a
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 49 
 
 general of the marineth or a cowboy I think 
 I J d be a wireleth operator." 
 
 "I 'd like it myself," I admitted. "Only 
 it would have to be on a boat. I adore 
 everything about boats the little boxes of 
 staterooms, and the shiny white decks, and 
 the portholes, and the smell of the ocean." 
 
 "And the good thingth to eat," Jimmy 
 added, sniffing the air hungrily. "Don't 
 you think dinner mutht be motht ready ?" 
 
 After dinner we sat in our steamer chairs, 
 and Father told us about the transports 
 and the part the wireless played in fighting 
 the submarines and in the maneuvers of the 
 battleships, and about brave operators who 
 had to stick to their posts while the ship was 
 sinking. Jimmy was keenly interested at 
 first, but he fell asleep in the middle of the 
 last story, and Father had to carry him to 
 his stateroom. It was so cold and windy 
 by that time that we all decided to turn in 
 early. 
 
 It seemed as if I had just fallen asleep
 
 50 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 when Martha woke me up by shouting my 
 name over and over again. I tried to lean 
 out of my berth to see her, but she was 
 directly under me, and the ship was rolling 
 so that I nearly fell out on my head. 
 
 "What's the matter?" I demanded. 
 
 "I 'm dying," she announced dramati- 
 cally. "But it does n't make any differ- 
 ence, because the ship is sinking anyhow." 
 
 "You 're probably just seasick," I called 
 down to her. "This isn't anything; it's 
 just a a a bit of a blow." 
 
 A hollow groan was the only answer to 
 these words of comfort, so I decided I 'd 
 better investigate. Waiting until the state- 
 room was somewhere nearly on a level (the 
 boat really was tossing around in a most un- 
 settling manner), I turned over on my face 
 and cautiously slid down until my feet 
 could touch the edge of Martha's berth. 
 Just as I reached it, the boat gave an awful 
 lurch and threw me right on top of my 
 beloved sister. I landed with both arms
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 51 
 
 around her neck, but I did n't stay in that 
 affectionate position long, for with an 
 awful yell she tried to push me away and, 
 losing her balance, as we went head on into 
 another wave, succeeded in landing both 
 of us with a mighty bump on the floor of 
 the stateroom. 
 
 Martha was first to recover her breath. 
 Sitting up with great dignity (and on my 
 left leg), she rubbed the back of her head 
 and demanded ferociously what I "meant 
 by it." 
 
 "Wow! Get off my leg, can't you!" 
 I howled, trying to kick her away. 
 "What 'd I mean by what?" I was still 
 flat on my back and not feeling partic- 
 ularly affable. 
 
 "By jumping on top of me and waking 
 me up, of course," she snapped back. 
 "I suppose that 's your idea of a joke." 
 
 "You 're the one who did the waking up, 
 Martha Graves," I replied indignantly, 
 "and you know it perfectly well. You
 
 52 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 called me and said you were dying and the 
 ship was sinking and " 
 
 "I did no such thing." 
 
 "You did." 
 
 " I did n't. You dreamt it." 
 
 "I did hot. You must have been talking 
 in your sleep." 
 
 We glared at each other fiercely; and 
 then, at the same moment, burst out laugh- 
 ing. It was so silly to be sitting, with 
 nothing on but our nightgowns, on a state- 
 room floor that stood first on one end and 
 then on the other, in the middle of the 
 night and of the Atlantic ocean, fighting 
 about which one of us had been having a 
 nightmare. 
 
 We climbed back into our berths without 
 another word and were soon asleep again. 
 Next morning, although I was sure that 
 Martha had really called me, I decided not 
 to mention it to the rest of the family and 
 tried to hide the stiffness in my left leg and 
 shoulder that was the natural result of my
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 53 
 
 sudden close contact with the stateroom 
 floor. Martha, also, had nothing to say on 
 the subject, but I noticed her rubbing the 
 back of her head several times when she 
 thought no one was looking. 
 
 The boat was still rolling quite a lot, and 
 the waves looked tremendously high and 
 savage. Jimmy was much impressed by 
 the "storm", until he had paid an early 
 morning visit to McKinney, after which he 
 spoke of it contemptuously as a "pocket of 
 wind" and strode around the decks with a 
 carelessness that brought him a couple of 
 hard bumps. 
 
 We all enjoyed the rough weather and 
 were sorry when, late in the afternoon, the 
 wind died down, and the waves flattened 
 out into harmless little swells. 
 
 But the last two days of the trip passed 
 only too quickly. We stopped at Porto 
 Plata and went on shore for a couple of 
 hours while they unloaded freight from the 
 steamer.
 
 54 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "I never saw such a clean city in all my 
 life," Martha had exclaimed when she first 
 made out its houses and streets from the 
 upper deck of the boat. And when we had 
 walked around it for a while, we found that 
 it was just as clean as it looked. Most of 
 the houses were white and very small, 
 with little patches of bright green grass in 
 front of them, so that it looked like nothing 
 in the world so much as a dolls' toy village. 
 
 "These people could teach a few things 
 to some of our would-be municipal re- 
 formers and contractor street cleaners," 
 Father remarked, and every one agreed 
 with him. 
 
 The steamer also stopped at Guantanamo 
 and Port au Prince, but not long enough to 
 go on shore, so we had to content ourselves 
 with throwing pennies to the little brown 
 boys who came out in canoes to dive for 
 them. They were wonderfully quick and 
 clever, and I saw Jimmy watching them 
 with such open-eyed interest that I sus-
 
 ON BOARD THE GUIANA 55 
 
 pected another life-ambition was being 
 born, and we would have to watch that he 
 did n't drown himself at the first oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 At last, on the sixth morning out, just 
 at daybreak, St. Thomas was sighted. 
 We all hurried into our clothes and rushed 
 down for a bite of breakfast before we 
 should reach the island.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE, the harbor 
 of St. Thomas, is on the south side 
 of the island. As the steamer 
 slowly made its way up the channel, we 
 saw that St. Thomas itself was long and 
 narrow, with flat meadows along the coast 
 that sloped back into high, irregular hills. 
 Surrounding it were a great number of tiny 
 islands, some grass-covered and some rocky. 
 
 The second officer, who had joined us on 
 the upper deck, told us some of their names, 
 Water Island, Hans Lollick, Little Hans 
 Lollick, Thatch Cay. 
 
 "Over there," he said, pointing to the 
 southwest, "is Sail Rock. You can't see
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 57 
 
 it very well from here, but looking at it on 
 the eastward side, you might easily mistake 
 it for a vessel under sail. 
 
 "There 's a local yarn about it that 's 
 rather good," he went on, seeing that we 
 were interested. "It seems that a French 
 frigate was sailing these waters a good 
 many years ago and one rather dark night 
 passed close to a vessel that was showing 
 no lights. The captain thought he had 
 come across a privateersman, and he hailed 
 the stranger. 
 
 "'Ship ahoy! What name and where 
 bound?' he shouted. 
 
 "'Ship ahoy! What name and where 
 bound ? ' came the reply very faintly. 
 
 "Indignant at this impertinence and not 
 being able to get any satisfactory answer 
 to his question, the captain ordered his men 
 to fire. The booming noise that greeted 
 his first volley convinced him that the 
 privateersman was giving battle, and soon 
 a couple of cannon balls landed on his deck.
 
 58 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 He was furious at this and gave orders to 
 keep up the fight to the finish. 
 
 "When dawn came, the Frenchmen found 
 themselves firing away at Sail Rock. The 
 supposed answers to the captain's hails had 
 been the echoes from the rocks and so had 
 the sounds of return cannonading, while 
 some of the Frenchmen's balls had rico- 
 cheted from Sail Rock at such an angle as 
 to return to their own decks. Needless to 
 say, they beat a hasty retreat from the 
 neighborhood, but some one must have 
 been a witness to their blushes, for the 
 story still persists." 
 
 Just as Mr. Blum finished speaking, we 
 rounded a last promontory and were in the 
 harbor. The sun had not been up for long, 
 and there were still great masses of pink 
 and lavender clouds in the eastern sky. 
 The water in the harbor was a clear, bright 
 blue, and between that blue and the dark 
 green of the hills rising in the background 
 lay Charlotte Amalie. Every house in the
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 59 
 
 town seemed a different color, blue, red, 
 orange, lavender, and down by the water 
 front rose the great red walls of Christian's 
 Fort. 
 
 "There she is!" the second officer's 
 voice boomed in the sudden silence that had 
 fallen on us all. " Charlotte Amalie the 
 sweetheart of the West Indies. Do you 
 wonder they call her that?" 
 
 "Indeed I don't," Father replied almost 
 reverently. "It makes me think of a 
 handful of precious stones spilled out on 
 a piece of green velvet." 
 
 "Or a greenhouse full of many kinds of 
 flowers," Mother suggested. "We loved 
 the little coast towns of Italy, Stan, but 
 Charlotte Amalie seems to be all that they 
 were and more, too." 
 
 We spent the time until we reached the 
 wharf pointing out to each other new color 
 combinations in the houses, whose roofs 
 seemed always to be of scarlet ; the narrow, 
 winding streets that straggled up from the
 
 60 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 water front, so steep sometimes that steps 
 were cut in them ; the gray ruin on a hill 
 above the town, which Mr. Blum told us 
 was Bluebeard's castle, and the dazzling 
 whitewashed fences around the gardens of 
 the hillside villas. 
 
 But the thing that looked best to us as we 
 came down the gangplank was a company 
 of our own blessed marines ! They were 
 drawn up at attention, and the Major who 
 had been temporarily in charge of the Post, 
 awaiting Father's arrival, was at their 
 head. He saluted Father and then shook 
 hands with him and with all of us, gave 
 orders about our baggage and escorted 
 us to the big, rather battered-up-looking 
 car that was waiting for us. 
 
 "There are a good many of us at the 
 barracks," he explained, patting the side 
 of the car, "and the one jitney we have is 
 kept pretty busy. This old lady has rather 
 lost her good looks on these rotten roads, 
 but she still can go eh, Sergeant ?"
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 61 
 
 The sergeant had been bending over the 
 engine, but now he stood up straight and 
 saluted. When I saw his wrinkled, brown 
 face and merry blue eyes, I forgot all about 
 formality and regulations and ran to him 
 with both hands out. The Major looked 
 astonished, but Father grinned and evi- 
 dently explained, for soon he, too, was 
 shaking hands warmly with the long-lost 
 Timmons. 
 
 We finally managed to get ourselves and 
 our suit cases and the Major and Timmons 
 all securely packed into the car and started 
 up one of the narrow streets. 
 
 "This is Main Street," the Major an- 
 nounced, as we turned to the right down a 
 somewhat wider thoroughfare that had 
 no sidewalks but was well supplied with 
 electric lights. "Thought you 'd like a 
 glimpse of the town." 
 
 For a few minutes we were kept busy 
 trying to take in every detail of the houses 
 and shops we passed and still have time
 
 62 
 
 to glance at the grinning, brightly dressed 
 colored men and women, and the occasional 
 white man abroad at this early hour. 
 
 "The Post is really in the town," the 
 Major was explaining to Father, as we left 
 the shopping district behind. "We often 
 let the men come in to the theater and the 
 stores. They seem to get along splen- 
 didly with the people." 
 
 "Oh, yes, indeed, there 's a theater, 
 the Apollo, in Coconut Square. A local 
 stock company has just been organized 
 and seems to be making a great hit." 
 
 "I believe there are churches of almost 
 every denomination. (This was in reply 
 to a question from Mother.) The Roman 
 Catholic, the Lutheran and the Anglican 
 are the largest and But here we are !" 
 
 Sure enough, the automobile had turned 
 into a narrow driveway, between two 
 whitewashed fences, where a marine doing 
 sentry duty would have been sign enough 
 that we had indeed arrived, even if the long
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 63 
 
 white buildings ahead could have been 
 anything but barracks. 
 
 The drive led around the barracks, past 
 a big, well-kept grass plot, and ended at 
 the front (only it turned out to be the 
 back) of three houses. Like the Three 
 Bears, one house was big, one was medium- 
 sized and one was little. But they were 
 all white, with green blinds and low green 
 roofs, and they all looked out across a 
 flower garden to the ocean, which was only 
 a few hundred feet away. 
 
 "We land you at your back door," 
 apologized the Major, "but I can at least 
 take you in at the front." And he led us 
 down a flagstone path beside the biggest 
 house and across a broad, shady porch into 
 a wide door that stood hospitably open. 
 
 "What a duck of a room!" Martha 
 exclaimed, as she stepped inside, and I had 
 to agree with her for once. 
 
 The living room ran the whole length of 
 the house and had four big windows on the
 
 64 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 ocean side. In the opposite wall was a 
 stone fireplace, and the comfortable-looking 
 wicker furniture was upholstered in rose and 
 brown to match the curiously-patterned 
 rug on the floor. There were bowls of 
 flowers around the room and a pile of 
 magazines on the table. 
 
 "How wonderfully homelike!" Mother 
 cried in delight. " Who did all this for us ? " 
 
 "Every one in the Post wanted to help 
 get ready for the Colonel and his family," 
 the Major replied, evidently delighted at 
 her pleasure. "But it was Mrs. Hunter 
 who put on the finishing touches. It takes 
 a woman for that, and she 's the only one 
 here now. She and Captain Hunter and 
 their two youngsters live in that house on 
 your right, and Captain Mitchell, Captain 
 Brown and I keep bachelor quarters on the 
 other /side. Mrs. Hunter will be mighty 
 glad to have another woman here. I guess 
 she 's been pretty lonely since our last 
 married man pulled out, with that bunch of
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 65 
 
 ' duration-of-the-war ' enlistments. I know 
 you '11 like her." 
 
 "I 'm sure I shall," Mother agreed 
 heartily. "I can hardly wait to thank her 
 for this lovely welcome." 
 
 " Oh, she '11 be over as soon as you 're 
 settled a bit. And now I '11 be running 
 along myself, to give you a chance hi that 
 line. The men will be right up with your 
 trunks and things, and Sam there in the 
 kitchen has some chow ready for you if I 'm 
 not much mistaken. Au revoir, everybody. 
 See you later, Colonel !" 
 
 The Major saluted and departed, in the 
 midst of a chorus of thanks, and with one 
 accord we dropped down on the nearest 
 chairs to get our breath. 
 
 "Is n't he nice?" 
 
 "Is n't the house adorable?" 
 
 " Is n't Charlotte Amalie the most 
 picturesque " 
 
 But before we could even begin to com- 
 pare impressions, the door on the right of the
 
 66 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 fireplace slowly opened, and a beaming 
 black face appeared, shortly followed by a 
 long, thin figure in immaculate white ducks. 
 
 "I's Sam," the apparition announced. 
 "I has somethings for you to eat if you 
 like." 
 
 "Indeed we do like, Sam," Father told 
 him. "But give us about five minutes 
 to take off our hats and coats and wash our 
 faces." 
 
 We went racing upstairs and discovered 
 two big bedrooms and a bath in the front 
 of the house, and the same in the back, 
 with a storeroom and a little sewing room 
 in between at the ends of the hall. 
 
 "Which ith whothe? Which . ith 
 whothe?" Jimmy demanded, hopping 
 from one foot to the other in his excite- 
 ment. 
 
 "I guess Father and I will take this one," 
 Mother decided, ending her tour of in- 
 spection in one of the front rooms that 
 was papered in gray and hung with blue
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 67 
 
 curtains. "Martha can have the pink 
 room next door ; Jane the yellow one in the 
 back of the house, and Jimmy the room 
 with the little brass bed. You can see the 
 ocean from every room, so there ought n't 
 to be any jealousy." 
 
 "There won't!" we all shouted. 
 "That 's just the one I wanted." 
 
 Mother would have been a good delegate 
 to the Peace Conference. 
 
 The breakfast Sam served us was so 
 delicious that we forgot all about its being 
 the second one we 'd had that morning, and 
 Jimmy and I were very much surprised 
 when we got stuck at the tenth in a free-for- 
 all biscuit race. 
 
 Timmons dropped in just as we had 
 finished, and so did our trunks, but Mother 
 let me go for a walk around the Post and 
 said I could unpack later. 
 
 "Them 's the barracks, Sergeant," 
 Timmons commenced, very much pleased 
 with his role of guide. "Them tents down
 
 68 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 by the water, " he pointed to two long rows 
 of khaki-colored tents to the left of the 
 driveway, " is where the boys mostly sleeps, 
 exceptin' during the rainy season." 
 
 " When 's that?" I asked. 
 
 "Mostly from August to November, 
 they say. I Ve only been here since Jan- 
 uary, but I seen a right smart bit of rain 
 falling early this month. They say it 
 won't rain none now till the first of August. 
 That 's when it 's hottest here, too, they 
 say the first of August to the end of 
 October. Hot and rainy both to once; 
 seems sort of funny, but so they say. Any- 
 how, that 's when the schools close, and 
 people go up to the hills." 
 
 "Don't the schools close till the first 
 of August?" I questioned surprised. 
 
 "That they don't. And they open the 
 first of November at least, so they tell 
 me. But here now is where they show us 
 movin' pictures every night, except when 
 they forget to send us any down from New
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 69 
 
 York. They plays basketball here, too, 
 and over on the P'rade grounds football 
 and baseball. Got regular leagues, they 
 have, and some of the games are hot ones, 
 I tell you." 
 
 "That 's great, Timmons. May I watch 
 them?" 
 
 " Sure, Mike ! And we got a couple of 
 tennis courts. They ain't much yet, but 
 they 're shapin' up. I recollected you was 
 partial to that game, and I 've had the boys 
 rolling 'em every day here lately." 
 
 "You're a brick! And I'll help roll 
 them. Do they ever go swimming?" 
 
 "Not just here, Sergeant Jane, there not 
 being no beach, so to speak. But over to 
 Mosquito Bay (he pointed rather vaguely 
 down the coast) there 's a jim-dandy beach, 
 with a dock and a springboard and every- 
 thing all complete. We run the motor 
 truck over there nearly every afternoon. 
 Then there 's East Point for surf bathin', 
 and Magens over t'other side of the island
 
 70 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 and " He suddenly broke off and with- 
 out any explanation changed the subject. 
 
 "Say, did you happen to run across that 
 black-haired lieutenant who was down here 
 awhile back?" he inquired. 
 
 " Lieutenant Duncan ? Uh-huh, I surely 
 did. He came to Norfolk just before we left 
 and gave me your messages, and I was mighty 
 tickled to find out you were down here." 
 
 " Well, now, was n't that a quincidence ! 
 Did he happen maybe to make mention 
 of a little gift I was making for you ?" 
 
 " Yes, but he would n't tell me what it 
 was. Please tell me, Timmons ; I 'm crazy 
 to know." 
 
 The old man chuckled to himself and 
 slapped his leg. "Crazy, is it?" he said. 
 "Well, you '11 have to be crazy a bit longer, 
 then. For it ain't finished, and you ain't 
 going to see it or hear tell of it till it 's 
 absotively through and completed." 
 
 I saw there was no use in teasing him and 
 accordingly reconciled myself to a bit of
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 71 
 
 watchful waiting, although I was fright- 
 fully curious. We walked around a little 
 longer, and he introduced me to a corporal 
 and a couple of privates from his company. 
 Then he said he had to get back to work 
 and, giving me a knowing wink, asked 
 which I liked best blue or green or red. 
 
 "Yellow," I answered, expecting him to 
 laugh at me for dodging the question. 
 
 But he just repeated, "Yellow ! Yellow !" 
 and started away without another word, v 
 
 I went back to our house and found that 
 Mrs. Hunter had been to call and had made 
 a great hit. 
 
 "She 's as pretty as a picture," Martha 
 informed me. "Dark and slender, with 
 big gray eyes. She comes from Virginia 
 and has an adorable Southern accent and 
 wanted to hear all about Norfolk. She 
 has a little girl seven and a boy six, and they 
 are at school, and we '11 have to begin going 
 right away, too, because it isn't over " 
 
 "Till the first of August," I interrupted,
 
 72 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 anxious to show that she did n't have a 
 corner on all the news. 
 
 "But she says she doesn't know where 
 we can go," Martha continued serenely, 
 not even stopping to ask how I knew about 
 the first of August. "The grammar schools 
 of Charlotte Amalie are only for the 
 * Spicks ' (that 's what they call the col- 
 ored people), but there's a small private 
 school that her children go to, and Jimmy 
 can go there, and he '11 probably be in the 
 same grade with Betty-Ellen (is n't that 
 a darling name ?) but it only goes to about 
 the sixth grade, and there are n't any high 
 schools and " 
 
 "Heavens, Martha! don't you ever 
 have to stop and breathe?" I interrupted 
 again. It 's impossible to talk to Martha 
 without interrupting her. "Mother, where 
 are we going to school?" 
 
 We were sitting on Mother's bed, watch- 
 ing her take things out of her trunk and put 
 them in the big chest of drawers.
 
 CHARLOTTE AMALIE 73 
 
 "I haven't talked it over with Father," 
 she told us, "but from what Mrs. Hunter 
 says, the only possible place for girls of 
 your age is a Convent school just outside 
 Charlotte Amalie. Holy Cross, I think 
 it is called. Even there the course only 
 covers the eighth grade, so I don't know 
 what Martha will do. We '11 go over and 
 visit the school to-morrow." 
 
 "But don't we have to be Catholics?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "No; they take scholars of any denomi- 
 nation, and even some of the better class 
 'yellows.' Mrs. Hunter says that the Sis- 
 ters are very charming." 
 
 "I '11 disgrace myself for sure," I pre- 
 dicted gloomily. "I was never hi this 
 world intended for a Convent school." 
 
 Mother laughed at my doleful expression. 
 "We '11 see about that later," she said. 
 "Now run along and finish unpacking, for 
 we are all to go over to the barracks mess 
 hall for dinner."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 
 
 EARLY the next morning Jimmy 
 started off to school with the 
 Hunter children, and Timmons 
 drove Mother and Martha and me over to 
 the Holy Cross Convent on the other side 
 -of the town. 
 
 It was a low white stone building, built 
 around a court, and except for the clois- 
 tered entrance and the crosses on the roof, 
 I would never have suspected that it was 
 a convent. 
 
 Just as we drew up, the school bell started 
 to rin^ and several children ran shouting 
 up the path and into a door in the left wing 
 of the building. We stared at our future
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 75 
 
 schoolmates curiously as we followed them 
 slowly along the stone walk. 
 
 A very young novice, with smooth light 
 hair and eyes so dark they were almost 
 black, showed us, when Mother had told 
 her our errand, into a small, low-ceilinged 
 room just inside the door. 
 
 "Sister Thecla will be with you soon," 
 she assured us, smiling in the friendliest 
 way. "She is now conducting the opening 
 exercises." 
 
 She spoke with such a quaint little accent 
 that Mother asked if she were not French. 
 
 "Yes, Madam, Alsatian," she replied, 
 evidently much pleased at the question. 
 "My mother and my father came to this 
 island when I was just a baby. They 
 thought to make a great fortune in a sugar 
 plantation that had been left to them by 
 my uncle's will. But the fortune did not 
 grow so fast as did the family and now 
 there are ten of us children instead of a 
 great pile of gold. We are all happy though
 
 76 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 oh, oui I Et maintenant, I am learning, 
 I hope, to be a good teacher." 
 
 "Indeed you are, Nicolette," a pleasant 
 voice broke in, and looking up we saw a tall, 
 gray-haired nun standing in the doorway. 
 "You wished to see me, Madame?" she 
 asked. "I am Sister Thecla, the head of 
 the school." 
 
 "I am Mrs. Graves," Mother explained. 
 "My husband has come to take charge of 
 the Marine Base. These are my two 
 daughters, whom I hope you will be able 
 to take into your school." 
 
 "I hope so, too," the Sister replied cor- 
 dially, coming into the room and taking 
 our hands in hers. She seemed to be study- 
 ing us for a moment with her quiet blue 
 eyes, and then she sat down beside Mother 
 and began discussing our preparation and 
 the courses we were to take. 
 
 I only half listened to what they were say- 
 ing, for I could hear Ma'amselle Nicolette's 
 merry voice in an adjoining room and the
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 77 
 
 murmured replies of her charges. I was 
 hoping that I would be in some of her 
 classes, when I suddenly realized that 
 Sister Thecla was speaking to me. 
 
 "Jane, will you come with me, please," 
 she said, and added, turning to Mother : 
 "From what you say she should fit in per- 
 fectly with our oldest class. For her sister 
 we will see about some special courses when 
 I return." 
 
 Mother gave me a reassuring smile, and 
 I followed the black-clad figure down the 
 corridor and into a sunny classroom. 
 There were perhaps fifteen girls seated at 
 the small wooden desks and a Sister on a 
 raised platform was reading aloud to them. 
 
 "Sister Agatha," said my guide, "this 
 is a new pupil, Jane Graves. She has come 
 all the way from Virginia, and we hope she 
 is going to be happy here." 
 
 Sister Agatha was pale and thin and 
 had a receding chin. She screwed her 
 thin-lipped mouth into something that
 
 78 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 was evidently intended for a smile and 
 waved her hand at me. 
 
 "There is a vacant desk next to Made- 
 lon*s. Sit down, my dear,'* she ordered, 
 in a cold, expressionless voice. "We are 
 now having our English period." 
 
 Sister Thecla had deserted me, and fif- 
 teen pairs of eyes were studying me 
 curiously, so I slipped as quickly as possible 
 into the only empty seat in the room. 
 
 Madelon proved to be a pretty, black- 
 eyed, curly-headed girl of about my own 
 age, who smiled at me encouragingly. 
 She looked so much like Nicolette that I 
 started to ask if they were n't sisters, but 
 as she saw me open my mouth she put a 
 warning finger to her lips, winked violently, 
 on the side farthest from Sister Agatha, 
 and lengthened her rosy face into a chin- 
 less, tight-lipped grimace there was no 
 mistaking. The next instant she was plac- 
 idly studying her book, with the primmest 
 of countenances.
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 79 
 
 I was so surprised that I giggled loudly, 
 but fortunately Sister Agatha had begun 
 to read again, in a harsh, resounding 
 voice that quite drowned out all other 
 sounds. 
 
 "Aggie 's a cold-blooded old female, but 
 the rest of them are wonderful." 
 
 I jumped nervously at this startling 
 announcement and looked around to see 
 who had spoken. I was at the back of 
 the last row, and the girl in front of me 
 was busily drawing pictures on a pad con- 
 cealed behind her book of poems. Madelon 
 was still bending over her lessons, the pic- 
 ture of studious attention. 
 
 "We have French from Nicole tte and 
 Spanish from Sister Dolorosa. Sister 
 Thecla herself teaches us history, but Aggie 
 has us for everything else." 
 
 This time I saw Madelon's lips moving, 
 though her expression never changed. I 
 grinned my admiration of the scheme, but 
 hesitated to try it myself.
 
 80 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 Then Madelon raised her hand. "Sister 
 Agatha," she asked sweetly, when the flow 
 of poetry had stopped for a moment. 
 "May Jane Graves look on with me until 
 she gets a book?" 
 
 "Certainly, Madelon, my dear," was the 
 gracious reply. " That is an excellent idea." 
 
 Safe behind the "Golden Treasury" I 
 learned many things from the diplomatic 
 Madelon. She was indeed Nicolette's sis- 
 ter, and there were two boys and another 
 girl between them, and five smaller sisters 
 and brothers. The two oldest boys helped 
 their father on the plantation, but all the 
 rest of the children, except the very young- 
 est baby, were in the Convent School. 
 That was Therese, who was sixteen, over 
 in the corner; she herself was fourteen, 
 but small for her age. The school was 
 tres bien and all the Sisters angels, with the 
 single exception of Sister Agatha, who was 
 apt to be strict. 
 
 "But she seems to like you," I remarked,
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 81 
 
 trying to imitate her way of talking without 
 changing the expression of her face. 
 
 "She adores me," was the modest reply. 
 "She thinks I am her most bright and most 
 lovely pupil. Some day, I fear, she will find 
 me out. Eh bien ! Eet is fine while eet 
 lasts." 
 
 Just then Sister Agatha made a sweeping 
 gesture to indicate the parting flight of 
 Shelley's skylark and turned ominously to 
 the class. 
 
 " Why is this a beautiful poem ? " she de- 
 manded of the room at large, and then, re- 
 ceiving no reply, focused on a single victim. 
 
 "Anna Larkin, why is this a beautiful 
 poem?" 
 
 A fat, blonde girl stood up reluctantly 
 and shuffled nervously from one foot to the 
 other. 
 
 "Why-y-" she began at last, and a groan 
 went up from the entire class. They evi- 
 dently knew what was going to happen. 
 
 "How many thousands of times do I
 
 82 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 have to request that you shall not begin 
 a sentence with 'why'?" Sister Agatha 
 raged. "Answer my question and answer 
 it promptly." 
 
 But poor Anna could only blush and 
 stutter, and finally she burst into tears and 
 collapsed into her seat. 
 
 Three other efforts to explain Shelley's 
 poetical genius (a thing which he himself 
 might have found a bit difficult to do) 
 failed to meet with Sister Agatha's approval. 
 Then Madelon raised her hand, with just 
 the proper amount of hesitation. 
 
 "You may recite, Madelon," said our 
 teacher, going through the contortions that, 
 for her, registered smiling approval. 
 
 Madelon rose to her feet and tossed back 
 her curls. 
 
 "'The Skylark,' is a beautiful poem," 
 she announced with great feeling. "Eet is 
 beautiful because of the beautiful thoughts 
 eet contains and because of the beautiful 
 way in which those thoughts are expressed."
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 83 
 
 "Beautiful," murmured Sister Agatha 
 contentedly. 
 
 Madelon gave me a tremendoils wink. 
 It was the simplest kind of bluffing, and 
 one with which I had had some experience 
 myself. 
 
 "Why does this poem inspire us with 
 awe?" was the next question. 
 
 I waited until four trembling students 
 had tackled this poser and gone down to 
 ignominious defeat. Then I raised my hand 
 rather slowly. 
 
 Sister Agatha did not smile at me, but 
 she did say, quite pleasantly: "Ah, our 
 new pupil is going to answer the question 
 for us." 
 
 Thus encouraged I stood up. The room 
 looked surprisingly large and full of people, 
 and Sister Agatha seemed to be growing 
 taller and more forbidding every second. 
 I gulped once or twice and made a bold 
 start. 
 
 "We all find that 'The Skylark' fills us
 
 84 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 with awe," I proclaimed loftily, "because 
 of because of " My mind had sud- 
 denly become absolutely blank, but I 
 realized that if I did n't say something I 
 would be ruined forever, so I gulped again 
 and finished my sentence all in one breath 
 "because of the awful thoughts it contains 
 and the awful way in which those thoughts 
 are expressed." 
 
 I knew it did n't sound just right as soon 
 as I had it out, but I was n't prepared for 
 the sickening silence that greeted me. 
 The whole class seemed to be holding its 
 breath, and Sister Agatha's face was like 
 a thundercloud. 
 
 "You Ve done it now, Jean Graves," 
 Madelon whispered consolingly, as I sank 
 terror-stricken into my seat. "She thinks 
 it 's perfectly awful for any one to say 
 'awful.'" 
 
 "So you choose to make fun of us, Miss 
 Jane Graves " just as the storm began, 
 the door of the schoolroom opened, and in
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 85 
 
 walked Sister Thecla, Mother and Martha ; 
 and in the introductions that followed, 
 Sister Agatha forgot me for the time being. 
 Before she had a chance to think of my 
 "awful" recitation again, the bell rang, and 
 we all went into another room to read 
 French with Ma'amselle Nicolette. 
 
 Walking home together at noon, Martha 
 and I decided that we were going to like the 
 school immensely. 
 
 "Only I know I'll never get along with 
 Sister Agatha," I added. "I got in wrong 
 with her first thing with that old * Sky- 
 lark/" 
 
 When I told Martha about it, she seemed 
 to think that it was a great joke, but I 
 noticed that she kept rejoicing because she 
 did n't have anything except sewing with 
 Sister Agatha. 
 
 "Is n't Ma'amselle Nicolette darling?" 
 she asked, as we stopped to look into some 
 of the shop windows on Main Street. 
 "I am to take a special French conversa-
 
 86 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 tion course from her and a Spanish one 
 from Sister Thecla." 
 
 " I '11 say you 're lucky," I sighed enviously. 
 "And you only have to go in the mornings. 
 Gee, I wish I were three years older ! " 
 
 "You 'd better not let Mother hear you 
 saying * Gee ! ' ' Martha admonished me 
 sternly. "You know she Oh, look at 
 that queer kind of chocolate candy ! Let 's 
 get some." 
 
 I had no objections, so we went into the 
 shop, which seemed to be a sort of grocery 
 store and candy stand combined. 
 
 " What 's inside of them ? " Martha asked, 
 pointing to the round, chocolate-covered 
 candies we had seen through the window. 
 
 "Deeferent flavors, Mees," answered the 
 nice-looking colored boy who came forward 
 to wait on us. "Vanil, Feeg, Coc'nut, 
 Lemon, Orange, Jelly " 
 
 "All right, all right !" Martha was will- 
 ing to take the rest for granted. "What 
 are the ones in this pile ? "
 
 WE GO TO THE CONVENT SCHOOL 87 
 
 He looked puzzled for a second and then 
 quickly turned his back to us, murmuring, 
 "Just a meenut, Mees." 
 
 "Feeg," he announced triumphantly, 
 swinging around again and showing his 
 shiny white teeth in a broad grin. 
 
 "Give us some of those," said Martha, 
 "and some of the flatter ones. What are 
 they?" 
 
 Once more he faced about for a moment 
 and turned back to announce with the po- 
 litest of bows, " Vanil, Mees ! Him, Vanil." 
 
 Martha suddenly gave a loud snort and 
 dashed out of the shop. I could n't imagine 
 what had happened, but I paid the boy, 
 took the candy and followed her. She 
 was leaning limply against a fence when 
 I caught up with her, and she started gig- 
 gling again as soon as she saw me. 
 
 "What ever struck you, you poor nut?" 
 I demanded. 
 
 "Oh, Jane, did n't you see what he was 
 doing?" she gasped.
 
 88 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "No; what?" 
 
 "He turned his back and bit the candy 
 to find out what kind it was, and then he 
 was so killingly polite and pleased with 
 himself when he told us. Oh, dear, do you 
 suppose they do all their business that 
 way in Charlotte Amalie?" 
 
 "Do you suppose he gave us the bitten 
 ones?" I giggled.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 WHITES AND GREENS 
 
 THE Holy Cross school turned out 
 to be all that we had hoped from 
 our impressions of the first day. 
 Madelon and I came to be great friends, 
 and her influence with Sister Agatha kept me 
 from utter disgrace, although I was always 
 getting into scrapes in that worthy lady's 
 classroom. 
 
 The other girls, except for the few 
 "Spicks" who kept entirely to themselves, 
 were mostly of English or Danish descent, 
 and they all talked English, although I 
 found they didn't know a bit of American. 
 I taught Madelon a lot of slang, and she 
 tried to return the compliment with some 
 French expressions, which sounded great
 
 90 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 when she said them but would n't twist 
 around my tongue. She spoke English 
 perfectly, except that she could n't learn 
 to pronounce "it" anyway except "eet", 
 and it did sound so funny to hear her say 
 "cut eet out" and "can you beat eet." 
 
 As a whole the school was dreadfully 
 ladylike and never seemed to get mussed 
 up or dirty. After about a week of walks 
 and sewing bees at recess times, I grew 
 desperate. 
 
 " Madelon, I 'm going to start a basket- 
 ball team," I whispered during a geography 
 lesson and had the satisfaction of seeing 
 her lose her expression of unwavering at- 
 tention for a minute. 
 
 "What 's that?" she asked. 
 
 "I '11 tell you all about it at recess," I 
 promised and set to work planning athletic 
 careers for all the girls in the class. It 
 was a real service to humanity, but Sister 
 Agatha rudely interrupted it by asking 
 me to name the zones.
 
 WHITES AND GREENS 91 
 
 "Forward, guard " I began absent- 
 mindedly. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Temp'rate, torr'd " I hastily 
 amended, and she had to admit I really 
 knew them. 
 
 When recess came I explained about 
 basketball to Madelon and Mary Deane 
 and two or three others I thought had 
 shown some signs of unreleased "pep." 
 They all thought it would be great fun to 
 get up a team. Mary Deane said that her 
 cousins in England played all sorts of 
 games at school, and she had always wanted 
 to. 
 
 I promised to ask for one of the old 
 balls from the Post and said I thought 
 Father would let some of the men help 
 us fix up baskets in the field back of the 
 school. 
 
 "Won't we have to ask Sister Thecla's 
 permission?" little Christine Dann sug- 
 gested timidly.
 
 92 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "You ask her, Jane,'* they all chorused 
 at once and began dragging me toward the 
 office. 
 
 " Oh, I can't ! I don't know what to 
 say," I protested. "Mary Deane, you do 
 it." 
 
 "What is Mary Deane to do?" asked a 
 quiet voice, as Sister Thecla, hearing us, 
 came smiling to the doorway. 
 
 She looked so pleasant and unforbidding 
 that it was n't at all hard to explain to her 
 about basketball at recess and after school, 
 and teams, and bloomers, and what fun it 
 would be and good exercise too. At first 
 she did n't quite understand, but when I 
 had repeated it all slowly, and Mary Deane 
 had told about her English cousins, and all 
 the other girls had said how much they 
 wanted to play, she nodded her head 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "I see no reason why you shouldn't 
 play this game, if your parents are willing," 
 she decided. " It won't interfere with your
 
 WHITES AND GREENS 93 
 
 studies, and it is never well to develop our 
 minds at the expense of our bodies. Can 
 you teach the other girls, Jane?" 
 
 "I can try," I assured her. "And 
 Martha will help, I know." 
 
 "Then you have my permission," she 
 smiled. "I shall be anxious to see you 
 begin." 
 
 So that very afternoon Timmons and 
 two men from his company came over to 
 help, and with poles and boards and fish 
 netting and wire we rigged up a couple of 
 unmistakable baskets. Then we white- 
 washed lines on the field and rolled out 
 some of the worst bumps. When it was 
 finished it looked so inviting that Martha 
 and I could hardly wait to begin and 
 stayed there until it grew dark, throwing 
 fouls and practising guarding each other. 
 
 By Wednesday the girls all obtained 
 permission from their parents to play. 
 Martha and I laughed together at the 
 thought of going through such a formality
 
 94 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 back in the States, but from the struggles 
 some of the girls reported having with their 
 fathers, the St. Thomians evidently thought 
 basketball was an especially dangerous 
 combination of bull-fighting and rough- 
 and-tumble football, such as they were 
 accustomed to seeing on the parade ground. 
 
 Of course I forgot the ball and had to 
 tear back to the barracks for it while the 
 others were dressing. We had tried to 
 explain about middies and bloomers and 
 had even brought ours up to show them, 
 but we were n't sure how successful our 
 efforts had been. 
 
 Madelon was waiting at the gate for me 
 when I came panting up with the ball. 
 "Oh, Jean Graves, depeches-toi, beat eet," 
 she cried, grabbing my arm and dragging 
 me after her down the path. "Come 
 on in and look out of the window." 
 
 "What's the hurry?" I gasped. "I'm 
 out of breath already." 
 
 "Take a look," she commanded, stop-
 
 WHITES AND GREENS 95 
 
 ping at last in front of one of the back 
 windows. 
 
 I took several. The future basketball 
 stars of Holy Cross were standing or sitting 
 around the field in various awkward and 
 uncomfortable attitudes. Their costumes 
 would have put a musical comedy chorus 
 to disgrace. No two had bloomers of the 
 same shape, size or color; some hung full 
 and baggy to their ankles, others were skin 
 tight and decidedly above the knees, and they 
 were made of every possible material from 
 velours to organdie. The top pieces varied 
 from gay pink and blue sweaters to dainty 
 lace shirtwaists. 
 
 "Oh, Madelon," I giggled. "Did you 
 ever see anything so funny in your life?" 
 
 "Never," she confessed. "How about 
 Anna Larkin?" 
 
 I hadn't particularly noticed the fat 
 girl, but now I saw that she was dressed 
 in a purple and white striped shirt, that 
 must once have been her father's, and tight
 
 96 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 black silk trousers gathered into little 
 ruffles at the ankles. She was standing 
 solemnly in the middle of the field, with 
 her hands crossed behind her, waiting for 
 instructions. 
 
 "I can't laugh any more. I'm weak," 
 I spluttered a few minutes later. "H-how 
 does Martha do it?" 
 
 For my self-possessed sister had gathered 
 the would-be players around her and was 
 lecturing them, evidently about the rules 
 of the game, while the black-gowned Sisters 
 on the side lines watched her admiringly. 
 
 Madelon and I started out several times, 
 after I had finally dressed, and were over- 
 come by fresh fits of laughter at the sight 
 of some new freak of costume, before we 
 reached the field. But I finally managed 
 to keep my face straight long enough to 
 hand over the ball and help choose sides. 
 
 And the end of the afternoon we knew 
 that basketball had come to Holy Cross 
 to stay. Not that any of the girls showed
 
 WHITES AND GREENS 97 
 
 striking aptitude for the game. In fact, 
 with the single exception of Mary Deane, 
 they were hopelessly awkward. 
 
 "Catch that ball," Martha would shriek 
 to the bewildered center on her side, who 
 would let it slip gently through her hands, 
 then stand staring at it. 
 
 "Pass it over to me," I would beg in turn, 
 only to have my partner at forward hang 
 on to the ball with a death-like grip until 
 I was forced to call time on her. 
 
 Anna Larkin puffed and panted around 
 the field until her face was almost as purple 
 as her shirt, and Madelon fell down every 
 two minutes and always threw the ball 
 in the wrong direction. 
 
 But they all had a perfectly gorgeous 
 time. They had never known anything 
 like it, and they wanted to know more im- 
 mediately and to keep on playing forever. 
 I was sort of afraid Sister Thecla might 
 think the game too unladylike for her 
 charges, and I knew by the sour expression
 
 98 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 on Sister Agatha's face that she condemned 
 it utterly. 
 
 However, when we finally persuaded the 
 girls they had had enough for the first day, 
 Sister Thecla called us all together and told 
 us that she only wished she were young 
 enough to play herself, but as long as she 
 could n't she would just say good luck and 
 go to it. (She did n't say it in exactly 
 those words, of course, but that was what 
 she meant.) 
 
 So we chose two permanent teams, the 
 Whites and the Greens, with Martha and 
 me, as the only ones who really knew how to 
 play, for the captains. And then, I sup- 
 pose, each girl went home and told her 
 family what a fine game basketball was and 
 how easily she had learned it and what a 
 good player she was going to be. 
 
 "I only wish," Martha sighed, as we were 
 getting ready for bed that night, "I only 
 wish I had had my camera. They '11 never 
 look so funny again because a lot of them
 
 WHITES AND GREENS 99 
 
 will have regular bloomers to-morrow. 
 Mary Deane discovered that her father 
 had a dozen pairs stuck away somewhere 
 in his store. An agent sent them to him 
 once, with some other girls' clothes, and he 
 never expected to sell them." 
 
 "That's a shame," I agreed. "But 
 maybe there won't be a pair big enough to 
 fit Anna Larkin, and she 's as funny as all 
 the rest put together."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT AND INTRODUCED 
 TO AN OLD FRIEND 
 
 WE had been at St. Thomas over 
 a month, and I was walking 
 home from school one afternoon, 
 when I heard some one calling me. There 
 was a big wharf in the curve of land just 
 before you turned in to the barrack drive- 
 way, which the men used for the marine 
 launch and their own boats. Timmons 
 was standing near the boathouses and 
 waving to me frantically, so I went down 
 to investigate. 
 
 He hailed me at the top of his lungs. 
 " She 's done, Sergeant ! She 's done ! " 
 
 "Who 's done ? " I shouted back. 
 
 "C'mon 'nd see." He grinned, winked
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT 101 
 
 mysteriously and pointed to one of the 
 boathouses. "She 's in there," he finally 
 informed me. 
 
 "Who, Timmons? Stop teasing." 
 
 "C'mon 'nd see," he repeated and led 
 the way, chuckling to himself. "Guess 
 you thought you never was going to get 
 that there present. I cud only work on 
 'er off 'n on. But she 's done now, yessir, 
 and mighty pretty too, if I do say it my- 
 self, as made her." 
 
 He stopped in front of the last and 
 smallest of the boathouses. "Hurry up 
 and show me," I begged, trying in vain to 
 turn the door-knob. 
 
 Slowly and with a great air of ceremony, 
 Timmons drew a key out of his pocket and 
 turned it in the lock. Then he threw 
 open the door, stepped back to let me pass, 
 and announced triumphantly: "There she 
 be!" 
 
 On the floor of the boathouse lay a 
 canoe. It was a brand-new canoe, painted
 
 102 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 a lovely shade of yellow, varnished to 
 within an inch of its life and completely 
 fitted out with back rests, paddles and 
 even cushions. 
 
 "Timmons!" I gasped. "Did you 
 really make that? And is it really for 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes ma'am to both of those, Sergeant," 
 he answered proudly, wrinkling his 
 weather-beaten face into a thousand 
 creases as he grinned. 
 
 "You're an angel from heaven!" I 
 cried. "Oh, I 'm so happy I could die 
 in a fit!" 
 
 But I did n't. Instead I hugged 
 Timmons until he was red in the face, 
 and then the two of us sat down on the 
 floor and talked her over. She was so 
 obviously a "her" that, after the first 
 look, I did n't dream of hurting Timmons's 
 feelings by saying "it." 
 
 I admired every inch of her inside and 
 out, and Timmons told me how each part
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT 103 
 
 had been made. He had been a boat 
 builder before he joined the marines, he 
 explained, and had n't entirely forgotten 
 his trade. 
 
 "I'd say you hadn't forgotten it at 
 all," I disagreed. "I never saw anything 
 so perfectly scrumptious to look at in all 
 my life." 
 
 "She ain't just looks," he assured me. 
 "She goes like a bird. I tried her out 
 one night before I put on the paint." 
 
 "Let's try her this minute. Come 
 along, we '11 see what you can do, Miss 
 Why, Timmons, what 's her name ? " 
 
 " I thought I 'd leave that for you to 
 pick, Sergeant Jane. She 's yours, and 
 it 's for you to name her. You choose it, 
 and I '11 paint it on." 
 
 I climbed into the canoe and, sitting 
 down on one of the seats, pondered deeply. 
 
 "You might name her Virginia, after the 
 Virgin Islands," Timmons suggested with 
 a grin.
 
 104 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "Or Tommy, after St. Thomas; or 
 Charlotte, after Charlotte Amalie," I 
 imitated. "Oh, Timmons, I have it! 
 We'll call her The Sweetheart of the 
 West Indies. Does n't that sound great?" 
 
 "Well, it might," he admitted cau- 
 tiously. "But it's a bit long to paint on, 
 not to mention saying." 
 
 "You can make small letters," I pleaded. 
 "And we can call her Sweetheart for 
 short. Please, Timmons, I think it 's a 
 peachy name." 
 
 So the Sweetheart was duly christened 
 and started out on her first voyage with 
 her name in neat black letters around her 
 bow. 
 
 I had only paddled once or twice before, 
 but Timmons was a good teacher, and the 
 canoe responded so readily to the slightest 
 stroke that we went sailing down the bay 
 in great style. At one of the wharves we 
 stopped and changed places, so that I 
 could learn to paddle stern. The steve-
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT 105 
 
 dores and coal carriers, who were always 
 hanging around the docks, stared after us 
 with then* mouths wide open and their 
 eyes shining with mingled envy and 
 curiosity. 
 
 We went along beautifully for a few 
 strokes, and I was feeling very proud of 
 my steering, when the canoe turned 
 sharply to the left. I backed water as 
 Timmons directed, only to swing so far 
 to the right that we were headed straight 
 out from shore. And we kept on zig- 
 zagging back and forth in spite of all my 
 efforts to follow a straight line. 
 
 "What ever is the matter, Timmons?" I 
 asked in surprise. "It looked easy enough 
 when you were doing it." 
 
 He carefully explained the two steering 
 strokes to me again and made me practice 
 first one and then the other, until I could 
 turn the Sweetheart in a second. 
 
 " Now you Ve got to allow for current 
 and for your partn'r up front paddling
 
 106 , SERGEANT JANE 
 
 stronger or else weaker than you, and 
 change your stroke according" he in- 
 structed me. "But you want to do your 
 steering right in with your regular stroke 
 and not get out of time with the other 
 fellow." 
 
 I went at it again and this time was lots 
 more successful, although our course was 
 still rather jerky, and often Timmons had 
 to stop paddling until I got myself 
 straightened out. 
 
 "I am getting it, don't you think?" I 
 asked anxiously, when we were back 
 opposite our point again. 
 
 "Sure, you 're getting it fine. Suppose 
 I stop paddlin' and see how she goe," 
 He chuckled as he said it, so I was n't 
 surprised to discover that the only way I 
 could move along without his help was 
 by tacking from side to side, and even 
 then we seemed fairly to crawl. 
 
 "Pretty good, for the first lesson," com- 
 plimented Timmons, to my surprise, as he
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT 107 
 
 picked up his own paddle again and headed 
 for the landing. "Some day you '11 be 
 handlin' her all by yourself; but don't 
 try it unless there 's some one around to 
 pick you up." And once more he chuckled 
 to himself. 
 
 I soon realized the reason for that 
 chuckle, for after about a week of practice, 
 he let me take her out alone, following me, 
 however, in one of the rowboats. The 
 Sweetheart felt so light with no one else 
 in her and slid along the top of the water 
 so swiftly, her bow a good three inches in 
 the air, that I felt as though I were flying. 
 
 "This is too easy," I thought to myself, 
 looking back pityingly at poor Timmons 
 struggling with his heavy oars several 
 boat-lengths behind me. 
 
 Then something went wrong. A sudden 
 breeze or a current caught the bow and 
 whirled it around. I succeeded in bring- 
 ing it straight again, only to have it turn 
 in the other direction. This zigzagging I
 
 108 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 knew of old, and it was bad enough, but 
 suddenly the boat began to go around in 
 circles. The more I paddled, the more 
 persistently she spun around, first in one 
 direction and then in another. The Sweet- 
 heart gave a very good imitation of a 
 merry-go-round; too good, for by the 
 time Timmons came to my rescue and 
 towed me home in back of his clumsy old 
 rowboat, I was actually dizzy. 
 
 "Oh, dear," I wailed, greatly dis- 
 couraged, "I '11 never learn !" 
 
 " Sure you will. I '11 make you a double 
 paddle and show you the only fit and 
 decent way for one person to manage 
 one of these - skittish contraptions," Tim- 
 mons promised. 
 
 We put up the rowboat and went out 
 again for a long paddle up to the inlet. 
 It was almost dark when we got back to 
 the wharf, but several of the men were 
 sitting on the edge, smoking and talking 
 and dangling their feet.
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT 
 
 "We '11 put 'er up for you, Sergeant," 
 one of them offered, giving the Sweetheart 
 an admiring stare, and Timmons let him 
 help carry her in. But I had to see for 
 myself that she was safely stowed away 
 for the night, so I followed them to the 
 boathouse, with the rest of the men trailing 
 along behind. There were two of them I 
 did n't recognize, so I asked Timmons 
 their names. He turned to the taller of 
 the two. "Sergeant Jane," he began with 
 great formality, "I wants you to meet " 
 
 "Why, it's Billy Murdock," I cried in 
 surprise, holding out my hand to him. 
 
 He blushed hotly, stammered a few 
 words and gave me a limp handshake. 
 
 "Don't you remember me, Billy?" I 
 asked, much puzzled, for he had been in my 
 own Company D at Norfolk, and we had 
 been good friends. 
 
 "Sure, sure," he protested nervously. 
 "Awful glad to see you again. How are 
 you ? H how are you ?"
 
 110 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 .. 
 
 'I'm fine," I assured him. "Why 
 have n't you been to see us? We Ve been 
 here over a month." 
 
 "I I I didn't know," he stut- 
 tered, getting more and more embarrassed. 
 "I I guess I did n't see you." 
 
 "But you must have known Father was 
 in command of the Post, and that he is 
 always anxious to see any of the men from 
 Company D." 
 
 "Sure, sure," he muttered again. "Of 
 course. I was coming. Just had n't got 
 'round to it. Gotta go back to the bar- 
 racks now. See you again." And with 
 that he disappeared. 
 
 I stood staring after him, with my mouth 
 wide open. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Timmons, 
 who had been making things shipshape in 
 the boathouse. "Don't mind that Mur- 
 dock fellow ; he 's a queer one." 
 
 "He never used to be queer," I objected. 
 "Up at Norfolk he was the jolliest, liveliest
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT 111 
 
 boy in the company. All the men were 
 crazy about him." 
 
 "Well, they 're not any more, Miss," put 
 in the swarthy little marine who had been 
 standing with Billy when I first noticed 
 him. "He 's a rum one, he is." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " Nothing bad about him, y ' understand, 
 but rummy, downright rummy," he ex- 
 plained, and all the others grunted or 
 nodded their agreement. 
 
 "Has he been here long?" I asked. 
 
 "Ever since we have. He was with us 
 over in France, too. Came in with some 
 replacements just before we got into that 
 scrap at Belleau Woods ; 'bout this time 
 last year, it was. He 'd been sick or 
 something and got left behind his own 
 crowd. Had a pal with him, though, 
 tow-headed chap, sort of chunky." 
 
 "Jim Wilson?" I guessed. 
 
 "Yeah, something like that. Thick as 
 thieves they were, and this Murdock fellow
 
 112 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 used to cut up pretty lively with him. 
 They were only with us about a week 
 before we got into the mix-up. Very first 
 day that other fellow Wilson, did you 
 say his name was ? got his. Murdock 
 took it pretty hard, and then that same 
 night he went out with a patrol, and the 
 whole bunch were reported missing. Just 
 after that the Boches got through to us 
 and cut us up somethin* awful gee ! " 
 
 He broke off, thinking of the horrors of 
 that desperate week. "And Murdock, 
 what became of him?" I prompted mildly. 
 
 "Oh, we never saw him again till after 
 the armistice. Then he came back from 
 prison, looking as though he 'd been to 
 hell (excuse me, Miss), and he 's been with 
 us ever since." 
 
 "But why do you say he's queer?" I 
 persisted. 
 
 "I dunno exactly," he answered slowly. 
 " He hardly ever talks and has n't made 
 any pals, and he 's fierce absent-minded.
 
 I AM GIVEN A PRESENT 113 
 
 Always seems to have something on his 
 mind and goes off by himself moonin' 
 when he 's off duty, 'stead of getting into a 
 little game or taking a swim like the rest 
 of us. He 's a rum one, all right." 
 
 We talked a little longer, but I could n't 
 learn anything more in explanation of 
 Murdock's queerness, so I said good night 
 and hurried home. I had promised never 
 to stay out after dark with the canoe, and 
 besides I was anxious to tell Father about 
 Billy. 
 
 However, the Hunters had come over to 
 play bridge, and I did n't have a chance to 
 talk to Daddy. I puzzled over it myself 
 while I was undressing. I did n't even 
 have Martha to confide in, for she had 
 begged to stay down-stairs just a little 
 longer after I had come up. She adored 
 Mrs. Hunter and tried to imitate every- 
 thing about her, from her Southern accent 
 to the way she did her hair. 
 
 Hunting in my top bureau drawer for a
 
 114 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 handkerchief, I happened to catch the 
 end of a piece of blue ribbon. (Mother 
 always said that neat bureau drawers 
 were the sign of a perfect lady, so I knew 
 I would never be even an imperfect one.) 
 On the end of the ribbon was a key. 
 
 "Well, Jane Graves," I demanded of 
 my image in the glass, "how ever did you 
 forget about the secret passage ? I 'm going 
 to hunt for it right away." 
 
 I slipped the ribbon around my neck and 
 fell asleep, planning ways to get into the 
 fortress.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 I GO EXPLORING 
 
 NEXT morning Jimmy was leaving 
 the breakfast table just as I came 
 down. 
 
 "Ecthcuth me, pleath," he said most 
 politely. "I have to do my thpelling." 
 
 "Certainly, son," Father replied, adding 
 when Jimmy was out of earshot, "I wish 
 some one would tell? me what has come 
 over that child." 
 
 "It is queer," Mother agreed, wrinkling 
 her forehead the way she does when she 's 
 perplexed. 
 
 "Is Jimmy getting queer, too?" I asked, 
 reaching for a muffin. 
 
 "She admits it at last," grinned Martha,
 
 116 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 deliberately moving the dish of preserves 
 to her side of the table. 
 
 I decided to ignore her. "You re- 
 member Billy Murdock, don't you, 
 Daddy?" I continued. "A jolly, red- 
 haired boy who used to be in Company 
 D." 
 
 "By Jove (Father had gotten very 
 English since he went to France) By 
 Jove, then I was n't mistaken. I thought 
 I recognized him at drill several times, but 
 I could never find him afterward." 
 
 So I told him what had happened last 
 night and what the other men said about 
 Billy. 
 
 "It does seem queer and very unlike the 
 boy as I remember him," he agreed. "But 
 he 's probably just got a grouch, or is in 
 love, or something of the sort. I '11 try to 
 have a talk with him, though." 
 
 "Please do, Father," I begged. "I can't 
 imagine what has made him change so. 
 But what 's queer about Jimmy?"
 
 I GO EXPLORING 117 
 
 Mother and Dad looked at each other, 
 tried hard not to smile and then laughed 
 shamelessly. 
 
 "He's a perfect imp, and we oughtn't 
 to laugh at him," Dad chuckled, "but I'll 
 never forget the expression on Mr. Ken- 
 yon's face when those pigs came down the 
 aisle." 
 
 " What pigs ? What aisle ? " I demanded. 
 
 "Well," Father drawled tantalizingly, 
 "our good friend, the Reverend Mr. 
 Kenyon, was holding his regular weekday 
 service in the mess hall last evening and 
 discoursing, quite impressively, on the text, 
 'Cast not your pearls before swine.' 
 Right in the middle of a particularly 
 eloquent bit, the men began to grin and 
 nudge each other. The Reverend Kenyon 
 had his back to the door and did n't notice 
 anything unusual until the men started to 
 snicker. He saw them all looking toward 
 the doorway and turned around angrily, 
 to find three very fat and very pink little
 
 118 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 pigs staring at him with mildly inquiring 
 expression, as though demanding the where- 
 abouts of the forbidden pearls." 
 
 "Go on," I giggled. 
 
 "That was all and quite enough. 
 The meeting broke up in confusion, the 
 pigs proved to be the ones the Hunters 
 are raising in that lot below the tennis 
 court, and Jimmy 'fessed up as to how they 
 got there. He 'd been sent on an errand 
 to the chaplain's study yesterday afternoon 
 and had happened to notice the text he 
 was writing about." 
 
 "Ye gods," I exclaimed in admiration, 
 "what will that ki boy do next! But 
 I 'd hardly callit unusual." 
 
 "Oh, that 's not the queer part," Mother 
 explained. "You know how he used to 
 hate being sent to bed for a punishment?" 
 
 "And would beg to be spanked instead? 
 Of course I do." 
 
 "Well, he doesn't seem to object to it 
 at all since we 've been down here ; did n't
 
 I GO EXPLORING 119 
 
 say a word when I ordered him to bed right 
 after supper for a week. He was up there 
 all evening, and yet he has n't done his 
 lessons." 
 
 "I'm almost sure there wasn't any 
 light in his room when I came in from 
 canoeing," I said thoughtfully. "I wonder 
 oh, I bet anything I know ! Wait a 
 minute, and I '11 find out." 
 
 I jumped up from the table and tore 
 upstairs. Jimmy was sitting at his desk, 
 with his spelling book open in front of 
 him. 
 
 "That was some stunt you pulled off 
 with the pigs," I remarked casually, throw- 
 ing myself down on his bed. "How did 
 you ever think of it?" 
 
 "Eathy ath pie," he replied non- 
 chalantly, though I could tell he was as 
 pleased as Punch by my admiration. 
 "Betty Ellen helped me get 'em there. 
 Don't you let on about that, though. Gee, 
 Thith, you ought to 've theen old Kenyon'th
 
 120 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 fathe ! " Jimmy laughed happily at the 
 memory. 
 
 "You got yours for it all right, though, 
 didn't you?" I asked sympathetically. 
 "A whole week in your room ; that 's 
 tough. Maybe I can get Dad to give you 
 a licking instead.*' 
 
 "You'd better not," said Jimmy; 
 "might get in wrong yourthelf. I don't 
 mind it much." 
 
 I was lying with my head at the foot of 
 the bed, by this time. There was a big 
 window just to the left of the headboard, 
 and I had a perfect view of the broad, 
 green court between our house and the 
 barracks. Some of the chairs had been 
 left out from last night's entertainment. 
 
 "All right, if you don't mind," I said, 
 getting up and sauntering out of the room. 
 "Better hurry up, it 's after eight." 
 
 I found the rest of the family on the 
 porch. "Jimmy sends his love," I an- 
 nounced, "and asks me to tell you that he
 
 I GO EXPLORING 121 
 
 forgives you for the cruel punishment you 
 are inflicting upon him. It is n't half bad 
 to be sent to bed when you can lie there and 
 watch moving pictures every night ! " 
 
 It took over two weeks for Timmons to 
 finish my double paddle and for me to 
 learn to use it. 
 
 Then came the Fourth of July and a big 
 celebration at the Post. At least half the 
 town turned out to watch the troops 
 maneuver on the parade ground and cheer 
 the winner in a championship baseball 
 game. In the evening we had fireworks 
 and Japanese lanterns, and the cooks had 
 made a huge pile of sandwiches and a regular 
 well of lemonade, that disappeared in 
 double-quick time. It was a sizzling hot 
 day, but such a jolly one that even our 
 English friends confessed that they were 
 extremely glad we had an Independence 
 Day to celebrate. 
 
 We were busy at school, too, with basket- 
 ball games and end-of-the-term quizzes
 
 122 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 and a French play Nicolette was coaching, 
 so that I did n't have many spare minutes. 
 When I did get out in the Sweetheart, 
 Timmons or Jimmy or Madelon or Martha 
 would be with me, or else there would be 
 people on the grass plot around the fortress 
 or rowing near the bank, so that there was 
 no chance of visiting it undisturbed. 
 
 However, one evening just after supper, 
 I managed to get away without any one 
 seeing me and slipped down with the 
 current into the shadow of the fortress 
 walls. There was no one in sight, and I 
 hurriedly fastened the canoe and scrambled 
 out on to the bank. The strip of grass 
 was little wider than a path and, keeping 
 close to the walls, I could move along with- 
 out being seen from either the town or the 
 barracks. 
 
 Under the central part of the fortress 
 was the saluting battery, which I knew 
 would be fired again at eight o'clock. 
 That left only two walls that could possibly
 
 I GO EXPLORING 123 
 
 contain an opening of any kind, and I 
 hurriedly inspected their stony red sur- 
 faces. There seemed to be plenty of cracks 
 in them, and I eagerly pushed against one 
 hard surface after another. Suddenly, at 
 the bottom of the wall nearest the town, a 
 stone moved ever so slightly under my 
 fingers. I pushed it back slowly, for it 
 was heavy, and, kneeling down, looked into 
 an irregularly shaped opening about three 
 feet high and two wide. It was pitch 
 dark, as far as I could see, and I hesitated 
 a while before I crawled gingerly in. 
 
 Once inside I found I could stand upright, 
 and as my eyes grew a little accustomed 
 to the darkness, I could make out the walls 
 of a small room. I felt around, bumping 
 against a chair and a table, and finally dis- 
 covered on a little shelf the light I was sure 
 must be somewhere about. It proved to 
 be a flashlight, the largest and most power- 
 ful I had ever seen, and with its bright rays 
 I explored every corner of the room.
 
 124 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 It was narrow and fairly long. There 
 was a thick rug on the stone floor, a shelf 
 along one side that held a pile of books 
 and several magazines and, of course, 
 the table and chair my shins had already 
 discovered. 
 
 "What a peachy hiding place!" I said 
 out loud. " I 'm glad I 'm the only one 
 who knows about it." 
 
 I knew the men would be coming down 
 soon to fire the battery, so I only stopped 
 to make sure that my key fitted the inner 
 door and to take one look into the gloomy 
 cellar of the fortress, before closing up the 
 passage and starting home in the Sweetheart. 
 
 "I '11 be back soon," I promised, as I 
 looked back and tried to recognize the 
 cracks that marked the opening. "It 's 
 the wall beyond the battery. Joshua, but 
 it does seem queer to find everything just 
 the way Lieutenant Duncan described it 
 that night at Norfolk!"
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 LAZY DAYS 
 
 SCHOOL closed the thirtieth of July, 
 and the very next day it began 
 to rain. Jimmy was disgusted. 
 "What ith the uthe of havin* a vacation, 
 if it rainth all the time," he wanted to know, 
 after we had been shut up in the house 
 for three days and had read all the books 
 and painted all the pictures and played 
 all the games Mother could suggest. 
 
 "I 'm sick of staying in, too," I admitted, 
 getting up from the floor, where we had 
 been carrying on a world war with tin 
 soldiers and Father's old maps of the front. 
 "Let 's see if Mother will let us go out." 
 After we had argued a little about how
 
 126 SERGEANT^ JANE 
 
 hot it was and how good rain water was 
 for the complexion and so forth, she gave 
 us permission, and we dressed up in our 
 oldest clothes and raincoats and rubbers 
 and started out into a very wet and slippery 
 world. Martha was going over to Mrs. 
 Hunter's to learn how to make a smock, 
 and we teased her about her big umbrella 
 and pretended we were going to splash 
 her, until she began to run. Of course 
 she ran right into a great big puddle and 
 got as furious with us as if we had put the 
 puddle there on purpose. 
 
 "I 'm going to tell Mother this minute," 
 she shrieked, splashing muddy water all 
 over herself; but we had decided that it 
 was about time for us to be elsewhere and 
 were tearing down through the garden as 
 fast as we could go. We climbed along 
 the breakwater and went out on the wharf. 
 The tide was so high that when we teetered 
 up and down on the boards, the water 
 leaked through the cracks.
 
 LAZY DAYS 127 
 
 "Letth climb up on the bpathouthe 
 roof," Jimmy suggested. 
 
 We chose the smallest house, and by 
 stepping on Jimmy's locked hands, I 
 managed to scramble on to the roof, 
 although it was very slanty. Then I 
 held on with one hand and helped Jimmy 
 up with the other. As soon as we were 
 comfortably settled, it began to pour 
 bucketsful, but we were so close to the 
 water that it seemed almost like being on 
 a boat, and it was such fun we hated to 
 leave. 
 
 "Letth pretend we 're being wathed away 
 in a flood that made uth get out of our 
 houthe on to the roof," Jimmy proposed. 
 
 "Yes; and the children are in the third 
 story," I added. "We forgot all about 
 them in the excitement." 
 
 "But we wouldn't, Jane." 
 
 "Well, then, the door got jammed, and 
 we could n't get to them. But I don't 
 believe they 're drowned yet, and per-
 
 128 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 haps you can get them out through the 
 window." 
 
 Jimmy went to the rescue of the perish- 
 ing children, lying on his stomach and 
 hanging down to look into the window, 
 while I held his feet. And right then and 
 there I nearly killed my one and only 
 brother, for I happened to look toward 
 the wharf, and a marine was running toward 
 the deep-water end as though he were 
 going to jump right off. 
 
 I was so startled that I half let go of 
 Jimmy's feet, and he howled wildly as he 
 started to slip. The man stopped quickly 
 at the sound and, turning around, began to 
 run in our direction. But before he 
 reached us, Jimmy had managed to 
 scramble back to my side and was calling 
 me all sorts of names for trying to murder 
 him. 
 
 "What are you kids doing up there?" 
 demanded the stranger. 
 
 My hair was plastered down by the rain
 
 LAZY DAYS 129 
 
 and sticking into my eyes, but I finally 
 shook it out and looked down, to dis- 
 cover Billy Murdock standing below, look- 
 ing cross and very wet. 
 
 "We 're jutht playing," Jimmy told him 
 meekly. 
 
 "Well, you *d better come down before 
 you kill yourselves. Here slide and I '11 
 catch you." 
 
 He helped us both to the ground and 
 then, before I could even thank him, 
 turned on his heel and walked rapidly 
 away. 
 
 "He is queer," I exclaimed. "Come on, 
 Jimmy, let 's run." 
 
 We raced back to the house, and Mother 
 helped us put on dry clothes, and told us 
 that Mrs. Hunter was having a candy pull 
 and we were to go right over. 
 
 We did n't have to be invited twice, 
 and when we had broken the record for 
 getting to Hunters', we found them all in 
 the kitchen, with big aprons tied around
 
 130 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 their necks, taking turns at stirring a pan 
 of molasses that was bubbling away on the 
 stove and sending forth a most delicious 
 smell. 
 
 "Heah come the wateh babies!" cried 
 Mrs. Hunter. 
 
 "I suah hope you all got enough wateh 
 to last a while," added Martha, and we were 
 so glad to find her peaceably inclined that, 
 for once, we did n't pay any attention to 
 her would-be Southern accent. 
 
 The candy was soon ready to pull, and 
 all of us, from the Captain down to Betty 
 Ellen, who pranced around in the pinkest 
 and frilliest of aprons, getting in every- 
 body's way, pulled and pulled and pulled, 
 until we were sticky from head to foot, 
 and had laughed ourselves weak and eaten 
 enormous quantities of taffy. We put 
 what was left on a platter to cool, and Mrs. 
 Hunter took us upstairs to wash off a little 
 of the stickiness. 
 
 "What a pehfectly dahling powdeh
 
 LAZY DAYS 131 
 
 box " Martha was gushing, when there 
 suddenly came wild yells from downstairs 
 and the crash of broken china, and Betty 
 Ellen, shrieking for her mother, started up 
 the steps. 
 
 We all ran to the head of the stairs. 
 "What is the matteh, deah?" Mrs. Hunter 
 inquired anxiously, holding out her arms to 
 catch the youngster, as she tripped over her 
 long apron and wept more loudly than ever. 
 
 "It 's Jimmy, it 's Jimmy, Mother," 
 she sobbed. "He's killing Donny " 
 
 Martha and I raced down to the kitchen. 
 The platter, broken into a dozen pieces, 
 was lying on the floor, together with bits 
 of sticky taffy and two squirming boys. 
 Jimmy was on top of Don, and judging 
 from the latter's shrieks, was slowly and 
 painfully murdering him. 
 
 "James Graves !" Martha cried, grabbing 
 his shoulder and trying to pry him loose. 
 "Stop it this instant. Stop hitting poor 
 little Donny."
 
 132 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 She finally got him away and shook him 
 hard. I did n't blame her a bit, for it 
 certainly seemed to be a plain case of 
 assault and battery, and against his host 
 at that. Still I knew that Jimmy would 
 have something to say for himself. 
 
 Mrs. Hunter, with Betty Ellen clinging 
 to her skirts, was in the kitchen by this 
 time, and so was Captain Hunter, who had 
 turned back on his way to the barracks, 
 at the sound of the rumpus. Donny had 
 stopped crying, and was sitting up and 
 glaring ferociously at Jimmy, who had 
 his hands in his pockets and seemed as 
 cool as a cucumber, although Martha still 
 held his collar and would shake him every 
 now and then, sort of absent-mindedly. 
 
 "Well, well, what 's all this?" asked the 
 Captain, looking straight at Jimmy. 
 
 "We were fighting, thir," stated Jimmy, 
 not at all embarrassed. 
 
 " So I see. But what about ? " 
 
 "I 'd rather not thay, thir," .;
 
 LAZY DAYS 133 
 
 Captain Hunter looked surprised and 
 turned to his own son. "Donny, what 
 were you fighting about?" 
 
 Donny kicked the table leg but made no 
 reply. 
 
 "Donald, what were you fighting 
 about?" 
 
 There was no defying that tone, and it 
 all came out in one breath. " Motheh told 
 us not to take any moan candy aftah she 
 put it on the platteh till she said we could, 
 and I was taking some, and Jimmy saw me 
 and said I must n't, and I said I did n't 
 have to mind him, he hit me and then we 
 fought." 
 
 "That was no reason for fighting, Jimmy. 
 Just wait till I tell Father. Why did you 
 hit him?" Martha shook the culprit at 
 the end of each sentence. 
 
 "I I'll tell Father mythelf," he 
 gulped. "Donny wath dithobeying 
 orderth ; he wath. I 'm a marine, and 
 I have to do what our motto tellth uth
 
 134 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 to, don't I, thir?" he appealed to Captain 
 Hunter. 
 
 "Which motto?" questioned the Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 Jimmy's eyelid quivered. He was either 
 winking, or trying to keep from crying 
 and Jimmy never cried. Then he said 
 very innocently : " Our war thlogan, I 
 mean, thir. Firtht to fight, thir!" 
 
 "Run along to your father, boy," ordered 
 the Captain, making an unsuccessful 
 attempt to turn a chuckle into a cough. 
 "And tell him you Ve been illustrating the 
 Tank Corps motto 1 as well as our own." 
 
 After a week of steady rain, it cleared 
 for a day, and for the rest of our vacation 
 the sun shone over half the time. Every 
 morning we played tennis or went for a 
 paddle; and in the afternoon we either 
 went over to Mosquito Bay for a swim or 
 watched the men play baseball. Evenings 
 there were movies or vaudeville shows and 
 
 1 The Tank Corps motto was " Treat 'em rough."
 
 LAZY DAYS 135 
 
 more paddling, especially when Timmons 
 and I took Father for long trips up the bay 
 while the moon was full. 
 
 Martha went to the informal dances 
 the officers gave every Friday evening hi 
 the court and spent long afternoons sewing 
 and talking with Mrs. Hunter. Usually 
 when she went in next door, I would saunter 
 down to the fortress, watch my chance to 
 slip unobserved into the secret room and, 
 curled up on a pile of cushions, spend 
 happy hours sailing up the coast of Scot- 
 land with David Balfour or stubbornly 
 holding back a heavier team in the shadow 
 of my own goal posts by the side of my 
 beloved Dink Stover. It was always cool 
 in there, and I blessed Lieutenant Duncan 
 a thousand times for telling me about his 
 secret. 
 
 Madelon and Therese came down to 
 spend a week with us, and we had the 
 jolliest time, picnics and swimming 
 parties and boat rides every day. Mrs.
 
 136 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 Hunter gave a little tea for Martha and 
 Therese and some of the younger officers. 
 She asked us beforehand if we would like 
 to come, and I was scared to death Madelon 
 would say yes, but she did n't. She was 
 very polite about refusing, though, and 
 Mrs. Hunter told Mother afterward that 
 she had never known a girl of her age 
 with such charming manners. 
 
 "Sapristi!" Madelon whispered to me 
 after her talk with Mrs. Hunter. "If I 
 had had to go to her old tea, I should have 
 died in a feet ! Let 's get Mr. Timmons 
 and go out in the canoe." 
 
 The night the Clerets left, after making 
 us promise to come to the plantation for a 
 week in October, I came upstairs just 
 before dinner and noticed Martha's door 
 standing open. I stuck my head into her 
 room, intending to repeat some barracks' 
 gossip Timmons had told me, but kept it 
 there for an entirely different purpose. 
 
 Martha was sitting in front of her dress-
 
 She studied her reflection in the mirror, smiled, rolled her eyes 
 and changed to the other elbow. Page 137.
 
 LAZY DAYS 137 
 
 ing table, with her back to me and entirely 
 unconscious of my presence. She had her 
 hair done a new way, with puffs over her 
 ears, and was leaning an elbow on the table 
 and resting her chin gracefully on her hand. 
 She studied her reflection in the mirror, 
 smiled, rolled her eyes and changed to the 
 other elbow. 
 
 "Oh, Lieutenant Pohtah, you don't cayeh 
 if I give away youah othah dance, do 
 you?" I heard her murmur, pouting her 
 lips and looking sideways out of her eyes. 
 
 I stared at her stupidly, hardly able to 
 believe my own ears. Then she rested 
 her chin on both hands and lowered her 
 eyelashes demurely. "I wondah if you 
 would get my cape from the house (No, 
 that hasn't enough Vs' in it," she in- 
 terrupted herself). "I wondah," she began 
 again, after a minute's thought, " I wondah 
 if I might bothah you to ask Mothah foh 
 my scyahf, then we could wandah in the 
 gyahden "
 
 138 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "Stick to one part of the South while 
 you 're about it," I interrupted, coming 
 out of my trance. "Don't mix Virginia 
 and Tennessee and Georgia all in one 
 sentence." 
 
 Martha jumped as though she had been 
 shot, at the sound of my voice, and blushed 
 crimson. " How long have you been there, 
 Jane Graves?" she demanded. "What do 
 you mean by eavesdropping and spying 
 and" 
 
 "Your door was wide open, and I 
 happened to be passing," I replied with 
 great dignity. "I am exceedingly sorry 
 that I overheard you, for, although I Ve 
 always suspected you of being a fool, I 
 never imagined anything as bad as this!" 
 
 "As bad as what? Just wait till I tell 
 Mother what a sneak you are. I '11 " 
 
 " Go ahead ; and I '11 tell her how you 
 sit and make eyes at yourself in the mirror 
 and practice idiotic speeches. How will 
 you like that? Of all simple, conceited,
 
 LAZY DAYS 139 
 
 smirking, pie-faced copycats, you take the 
 prize!" I stalked into my own room and 
 banged the door. 
 
 Martha followed me, as I knew she 
 would, and begged me not to tell. I was 
 disgusted, though, and I knew how to 
 drive Martha almost frantic. 
 
 "Please, Jane," she pleaded. "I know 
 it was silly, and I never did it befoah." 
 
 "Befoah?" I echoed softly. 
 
 "Oh, for heaven's sake, don't start that. 
 I '11 go crazy." 
 
 "Crazy?" I repeated, still more quietly. 
 
 "Honestly, Jane, can't you listen to me 
 a minute?" 
 
 "Minute?" 
 
 "Oh, stop it! I'll never speak to you 
 again, if you tell any one. Therese put it 
 into my head, and I was only doing it for 
 fun." 
 
 "Fun?" 
 
 At that point Martha burst into tears 
 and slapped me in the face. I slapped her
 
 140 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 back; and then we both felt a lot better, 
 although we would n't admit it. The 
 dinner gong rang before we could start the 
 argument again, and we hurried to wash 
 our faces and get down on time. 
 
 Of course, I did n't tell any one about 
 Martha's private theatricals, but for 
 months I could make her do anything in 
 the world for me by simply whispering, 
 "then we can wandah in the gyahden."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 
 
 ONE Saturday near the end of Octo- 
 ber, Madelon and Therese and 
 their big brother Pierre came down 
 for us in the old motor-truck that M. 
 Cleret had bought from the Post to convey 
 his numerous sons and daughters to and 
 from the Convent School. 
 
 Pierre was a tall, jolly boy of nineteen, 
 with tumbled brown hair and a skin tanned 
 by work on the plantation until it was as 
 dark as a native's. He drove the rattly, 
 worn-out truck with one hand, keeping up 
 a steady stream of foolish remarks, and 
 bumped us from side to side on the hilly 
 road until our teeth chattered.
 
 142 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "Here we are," he announced, as we 
 topped a last hill and turned with a jerk 
 into a narrow driveway. 
 
 We jumped out hastily and thankfully, 
 and, laden with suitcases and packages of 
 groceries that the girls had bought in town, 
 followed Therese up the flagged path to 
 the big, rambling white farmhouse. It 
 was a wonderfully homelike and friendly 
 house ; vines almost completely covered its 
 white walls and even stuck inquiring ten- 
 drils over the edge of the scarlet roof; 
 around the doorway was a trellis of climb- 
 ing white roses; crisp curtains fluttered 
 at every window, and from between one 
 pair of them at least floated out a delicious 
 odor of freshly baked bread. 
 
 "Ou est Maman?" called Therese, and 
 in a minute we were surrounded by a 
 swarm of little Clerets, who came dashing 
 out of the door and around the corners of 
 the house and threw themselves upon us 
 with shouts of delight.
 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 143 
 
 "Eh, bien, Ma'amselles," plump, jolly 
 Madame Cleret beamed at us from the 
 doorway. "Eet ees fine that you have 
 come. Nous sommes heureux de vous voir, 
 Monsieur Cleret et moi. Come een; come 
 een." 
 
 The children took our packages and bags 
 and escorted us, laughing and chattering 
 like little magpies, to a cunning bedroom 
 on the second floor, with a sloping roof, and 
 white furniture decorated with formal 
 painted bouquets of pink and blue flowers. 
 
 "Madelon," Madame Cleret called up 
 the stairs, as we were trying to unpack our 
 bags, with a great many would-be helpers 
 giggling and pushing and getting in each 
 others' way, "Madelon, depeches-toi et dites 
 a Gerta que vous etes arrivees. Ne voulez- 
 vous diner pas?" 
 
 We most certainly did want to dine and 
 hurriedly washed our hands so as not to 
 keep them waiting. "It 's enough to feed 
 a regiment," I whispered to Madelon, as
 
 144 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 we sat down, fifteen strong, at a long white- 
 painted table set with blue doilies and 
 loaded down with good things to eat. 
 
 I soon discovered, though, that Madame 
 Cleret knew more about the appetites of 
 her happy-go-lucky family than I did, for 
 cold meats and steaming vegetables, hot 
 and spicy in true Creole style, salads and 
 preserves, heaping piles of bread and rolls, 
 crisp French cakes and cookies and huge 
 pitchersful of milk disappeared as if by 
 magic. And such joking and laughing and 
 chattering accompanied their disappear- 
 ance ! 
 
 Every one, from tall, thin Papa Cleret, 
 with his bald head and twinkling blue eyes, 
 down to the curly -headed baby in her high 
 chair, adopted us on the spot and treated 
 us to laughing comments, sometimes in 
 English, but just as often in French, fre- 
 quent helpings of everything eatable in 
 sight and, from the youngest members, 
 occasional sticky hugs and kisses.
 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 145 
 
 "Wait a minute," I begged, during a 
 moment's comparative quiet, "I want to 
 get you all straightened out." 
 
 "Shoot away," laughed a brown-haired 
 boy opposite me. "Who am I?" 
 
 "Pierre, of course," I replied confidently, 
 only to have them burst into perfect 
 roars of laughter. 
 
 "So you've forgotten me already," 
 called the real Pierre from the other end 
 of the table. "Jacques will be so conceited 
 from that compliment there will be no 
 living with him." 
 
 By way of reply, Jacques, who was a 
 year younger than his brother but looked 
 almost exactly like him, tried to start a 
 rough-and-tumble fight on the spot. But 
 Madame Cleret's quiet "Allans, mes 
 enfants" sent them back to their seats, 
 and I continued my inventory. 
 
 "I know Madelon and Therese, of 
 course, and Ma'amselle Nicolette and Pierre 
 and Jacques, that makes five; Marie-
 
 146 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 Louise, with the black curls, is six, and the 
 twins make eight " 
 
 "And are eight," Madelon interrupted 
 to tease the two tow-headed boys who were 
 staring at me in wide-eyed curiosity. 
 
 "Et moi! Et mai!" piped up Jean- 
 Christophe, upsetting the marmalade jar 
 in his excitement. " J'ai cinq ans." 
 
 "Five years old ! Well, you are a big 
 boy ! What 's this cherub's name ? " I 
 asked, rescuing the spoon the baby had 
 thrown on the floor. 
 
 "Jolie," they all answered at once, and 
 I did n't wonder they called her that, for 
 pretty she surely was, with her golden 
 curls and pink cheeks and big dark eyes. 
 
 "I think big families are the nicest 
 things in the world," I sighed enviously. 
 
 "So do I," agreed the boy who was 
 sitting beside me. He was Winston 
 Roberts, a friend of Pierre's and an only 
 child. 
 
 "Sometimes they are," said Madelon,
 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 147 
 
 making a face at Jacques, who had just 
 helped himself to her currant bun. 
 
 The longer we stayed at La Patrie, 
 though, the more strongly we decided in 
 favor of a large number of brothers and 
 sisters. There was n't a dull minute. 
 
 Papa Cleret took us all around the 
 plantation, which was almost the last one 
 of its kind on the island, and we saw the 
 sugar cane being cut in the fields and drawn 
 in oxcarts to the crushing mill. He ex- 
 plained that he did not do his own "re- 
 fining" but shipped the raw sirup to a 
 manufacturer hi Porto Rico, as that proved 
 to be more profitable. 
 
 "We'll never get reech; non, jamais" 
 he said whimsically. "But eet gives us 
 enough to pay for food and for clothes, 
 and we are verry happy a La Patrie" 
 
 "Why do you call it that?" I asked. 
 "I 've always wondered." 
 
 "When we came way off here and left 
 noire chere Alsace, il y a bien des annees"
 
 148 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 he explained, "we were verry homeseeck 
 for a while, Maman and I; so we named 
 our plantation La Patrie the Mother- 
 land and so eet has come to be for us." 
 
 "Yes," Madelon teased, "they even grow 
 red flowers in blue window-boxes against the 
 walls of the house, so that our flag is always 
 in sight, n'est-ce pas, mon pere ? " 
 
 We played tennis almost every day and 
 croquet, and at night we danced, while 
 Madame Cleret played on a tinkly old- 
 fashioned piano and Monsieur on his violin. 
 We learned to ride the good-natured little 
 gray donkeys that M. Cleret kept to draw 
 his loads of sugar sirup down to the wharf, 
 and on their sturdy backs explored the 
 trails over the hills in every direction. 
 Whenever the boys could leave their work, 
 they came with us, and Winston dropped 
 in almost daily, to see Pierre, he said, but 
 he was seldom far from Therese. 
 
 On one of our trips we rode down to 
 the Chachas settlement west of Charlotte
 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 149 
 
 Amalie, to get some hats. When Therese 
 proposed it, I had n't any idea whether 
 Chachas were animals or Bolshevists or 
 some new kind of fruit, and I said as much. 
 Martha looked at me pityingly, although 
 I was sure she had never heard of them 
 either, and it was Madelon who supplied 
 the information. 
 
 "They 're the descendants of French 
 refugees who fled years ago from other 
 islands because of religious persecution," 
 she explained. "The name is supposed to 
 come from our word 'chercher' to seek. 
 They have always lived in that one settle- 
 ment and have intermarried until most of 
 them are half-witted or at best hopelessly 
 stupid, but they manage to live by fishing 
 in the bay and farming patches of hill land, 
 and they do make the nicest hats ! " 
 
 "It 's funny you 've never heard of 
 them before," began Martha. 
 
 "Yes?" I said politely. "Perhaps it 
 was because I never wandahed in the "
 
 150 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "Oh, look at those lovely blue flowers," 
 Martha interrupted hastily, turning to 
 Jacques. "Won't you get me some?" 
 
 "For the gyahden?" I asked wickedly. 
 
 Her only answer was to dig her heels 
 sharply into the sides of her astonished 
 donkey and tear ahead of us down the 
 road, leaving a much-bewildered Jacques 
 to jog off in pursuit. 
 
 The Chachas were uninteresting, scrawny- 
 looking people, and there was nothing at 
 all picturesque about their dirty village, 
 but the hats they had for sale were so light 
 and wide-brimmed and so beautifully woven 
 that we each bought one and rode proudly 
 back to La Patrie with our new headgear 
 flopping in the breeze. 
 
 Another afternoon Christine Dann gave 
 a tea for some of the Convent School girls, 
 and the four of us dressed up in our starch- 
 iest organdies and rattled down to town in 
 the motor-truck. 
 
 It was an alarmingly formal affair, call-
 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 151 
 
 ing for many curtsies and much exchanging 
 of compliments. Some of the Sisters were 
 there, and a number of Mrs. Dann's friends ; 
 so we chatted politely about the weather 
 and how we were enjoying our vacation 
 and whether we had seen the new play at 
 the Apollo. Once in a while a little group 
 of girls would get off together in a corner, 
 and for a few minutes the whispering 
 would be fast and furious. 
 
 "Don't ever tell I asked you," I heard 
 Martha murmuring to Mary Deane, "but 
 do you know how to tell whether you 're 
 in love or not?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed, Mrs. Larkin," I replied 
 sweetly, as that portly lady stopped to 
 shake my hand, "we all think St. Thomas 
 is delightful." 
 
 " not nearly so attractive as Pierre," 
 I caught the tail-end of Mary Deane's 
 reply, as Mrs. Larkin moved on to her next 
 victim. 
 
 "Of course tastes differ," Martha
 
 152 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 whispered haughtily. "Maybe it is a good 
 thing. Jacques told me yesterday " 
 
 "What about Therese and Winston?" 
 interrupted Mary Deane. 
 
 "Oh, they 're practically engaged. 
 Don't ever tell I said so, though." 
 
 This was more than enough for me and, 
 stopping only long enough to whisper 
 "gyahden" in Martha's ear, I hurried 
 across the room to Madelon, who was 
 beckoning me. "Eats," she announced 
 under her breath, as a neat colored maid 
 appeared in the doorway with a two-story 
 tray. 
 
 "They 've forgotten the other slice," I 
 whispered in horror, as the tray approached 
 us, for it was piled high with near-sand- 
 wiches, single pieces of bread spread with 
 all sorts of things, pressed meats, tomatoes, 
 pickles and even tiny sausages. 
 
 "Sh!" Madelon admonished me. 
 "Have n't you ever been to a Danish tea 
 before?"
 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 153 
 
 "No; but I like Danish sandwiches," I 
 answered a minute later, biting into a 
 crunchy pickle. 
 
 "Just wait till you taste some of their 
 fruit ices and fancy cakes," she advised, 
 and I soon discovered why, for I never ate 
 anything so delicious in my life as the apri- 
 cot ice and the chocolate and nut pastries 
 that the double-decker tray brought in on 
 its next trip. If Pierre hadn't appeared 
 with the truck when he did, I would have 
 eternally disgraced myself, and as it was I 
 accounted for three ices and at least a 
 dozen cakes before I left and was quite 
 truthful when I assured Mrs. Dann that 
 I had had a delightful time. 
 
 The last evening of our visit at La Patrie 
 we went for a hayride, only instead of a 
 hayrack we had a motor-truck, and instead 
 of hay, sugar-cane stalks covered with army 
 blankets. We rode over to the woods north 
 of Bluebeard's Castle, parked the truck in 
 a clearing and piled out, babies, baggage
 
 154 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 and all. The boys built a fire and, after 
 we had cooked bacon over it on long, forked 
 sticks, they put potatoes in the ashes to 
 roast. 
 
 When we had eaten a delicious picnic 
 supper and explored the woods to our hearts' 
 content, we started the fire again and sat 
 in a circle around it while Papa Cleret 
 told us stories of Alsace and of his early 
 days in St. Thomas, until the baby and 
 Jean-Christophe fell sound asleep, and 
 Maman said we had better start for home. 
 
 "I 've had such a good time, Madelon," 
 I whispered, as we sat squeezed in beside 
 Pierre on the front seat of the truck. "I 
 just love La Patrie and all your family, and 
 I 'm so glad you asked me to visit you." 
 
 " Eet 's been fun great having you, 
 Jane Graves," she declared, hugging me 
 tighter. "You must come soon again." 
 
 "Indeed she must," seconded Pierre. 
 " Tu V aimes beaucoup, n'est-ce pas, petite 
 scaur?"
 
 AT "LA PATRIE" 155 
 
 "fa va sans dire; est-ce que tu ne I 'dimes 
 pas aussi?" 
 
 I did n't understand them, but I was too 
 sleepy to care ; and I thought happily that 
 school would soon begin again, and then 
 I would see Madelon every day.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 
 
 UT we must have a Christmas 
 tree." Jimmy had been rapidly 
 acquiring front teeth and almost 
 as rapidly losing his lisp during the weeks 
 that had flown by since we started back 
 to school the first of November. "We 
 could n't have a Christmas without one." 
 
 We were holding a family council in 
 front of the fireplace in the living room, 
 which boasted a roaring fire, almost the 
 first we had had. 
 
 "Where shall we ever get one?" Martha 
 asked practically, looking up from the 
 fluffy white sweater she was knitting for 
 Betty Ellen. "There are n't any fir trees 
 on the island, are there, Daddy?"
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 157 
 
 Father took a long puff at his cigarette, 
 laid down his magazine and gave the matter 
 due consideration. 
 
 "The cypresses up in the hills are prob- 
 ably the only evergreens we have, and 
 they 're a bit unwieldy. But why not 
 use one of those baby oak trees we're 
 experimenting with along the driveway ? 
 The Major told me only yesterday that 
 they were getting so big he would have to 
 take out a few." 
 
 "Fine," Jimmy agreed enthusiastically. 
 "Let 's go get one right away." 
 
 So Daddy and I went with him, and 
 Timmons helped us dig up a thick, evenly- 
 rounded little tree, whose topmost leaf 
 came just even with my forehead. Jimmy 
 and I carried it to the garden and then 
 trotted over to the barracks for an old 
 wooden washtub we had seen hanging in 
 the outhouse. 
 
 "There, now, she oughtn't to die for 
 some time," said Timmons, as he packed
 
 158 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 down the last spadeful of earth around the 
 roots of the tree and sent Jimmy running 
 for a watering pot. 
 
 " Where shall we put it, Daddy ? " I asked. 
 
 "I think the porch will be the best place. 
 The men will want to see it, I know, 
 and that will give us plenty of room." 
 
 The two men moved the tree, tub and 
 all, into the most sheltered corner of the 
 porch and then went off to town in the 
 car, Father to inspect the patrol and 
 Timmons to meet the boat and get the 
 mail. I saw Jimmy run out the back 
 door and join them, and I almost decided 
 to go too, for the steamer from New York 
 only came twice a month, but it was only 
 two days till Christmas, and I still had a 
 lot to do on the pink silk kimono I was 
 making, under Mother's direction, for 
 Martha. 
 
 "Mother!" I called, finding the living 
 room empty. "Where are you?" 
 
 "In the storeroom," came the muffled
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 159 
 
 reply, and I ran upstairs to find her leaning 
 over an open trunk and scattering Christ- 
 mas-tree decorations and red and white 
 stockings and odds and ends of ribbon 
 and bright-colored paper all over the room. 
 
 Martha was sorting things out as well 
 as she could and had a string of imitation 
 holly wreaths over her arm and a roll of 
 dark green crpe paper in her hands. 
 
 "Just what I want," I cried, grabbing 
 the paper and picking up a long piece of 
 scarlet ribbon from the floor. 
 
 Martha demanded them back, of course, 
 and came running downstairs after me. 
 But when she saw the tree, she forgot all 
 about wanting the paper for herself and 
 helped me wrap it around the tub and tie 
 it in place with the red ribbon. 
 
 " Does n't it look great ? " she cried, 
 stepping back to inspect her handiwork. 
 "I think it 's lots prettier than a regular 
 tree." 
 
 "So do I. I can't wait to see how it
 
 160 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 will look all trimmed. Let 's get the 
 things right away." 
 
 So we went up and helped Mother finish 
 unpacking her almost endless stores of 
 Christmas things and then carried the 
 tree trimmings down to the porch and 
 went to work. I was just fastening the 
 last big red ball to the highest branch, 
 when we heard the automobile stop in 
 back of the house and then Jimmy's voice. 
 
 "Hi there, girlth," he called, lisping 
 because he was so excited. "Come help 
 uth. Hurry up ! We Ve got thome load ! " 
 
 I beat Martha down the path by half a 
 second and found Dad and Jimmy almost 
 buried under packages and boxes of every 
 possible size and shape. Timmons had 
 just gotten out and was lifting a huge 
 wooden crate from the seat beside him. 
 
 "Santa Claus has discovered St. Thomas 
 at last," Father chuckled, piling my arms 
 full of packages and turning to give Martha 
 her share.
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 161 
 
 "Hecuba!" I exclaimed (I had begun 
 Spanish in school and realized its advan- 
 tages already). "Did these all come on 
 the boat?" 
 
 "They most certainly did; and you'll 
 find that they 're marked, ' No admittance ' 
 till day after to-morrow." 
 
 Some of them, though, we did open, for 
 we had all commissioned Uncle Jim to buy 
 things for us in New York. It was most 
 exciting, because we would open presents 
 meant for ourselves and have them hastily 
 grabbed out of our hands; and once 
 Martha shouted, "Oh, Jane, here 's 
 Mother's hand . " She stopped there, 
 though, and Mother either did n't hear her 
 or pretended not to have noticed any- 
 thing. 
 
 There were dozens of mysterious bundles 
 from our friends and relatives back in the 
 States, and after we had wrapped and 
 labeled each others' presents, we carried 
 them all upstairs and added them to the
 
 162 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 pile already hidden in the "Christmas 
 closet" in Mother's room, to which she 
 alone had the key. 
 
 The big wooden crate that Timmons had 
 carried in was still standing on the porch, 
 and Father, with a chisel and hammer, had 
 just pried off the wooden top. 
 
 "Oh!" shrieked Martha, lifting one 
 corner of the excelsior pad. 
 
 "Oh! Oh!" echoed Jimmy, lifting an- 
 other. 
 
 Then I jerked off the pad entirely, and 
 we all started exploring. There were fat 
 five-pound boxes of our favorite candy, 
 bags of pink and white popcorn, piles of 
 striped peppermint canes and baskets and 
 shiny candy animals ; there were fruit- 
 cakes and puddings and ginger cookies, 
 raisins and nuts, and in the very bottom a 
 big box of candied fruits. 
 
 "Daddy, you angel !" we cried, all falling 
 on him at once. 
 
 "You do think of the nicest things,
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 163 
 
 Father," I complimented. "It will be 
 just like Christmas at home." 
 
 "That 's what I 'm hoping," he smiled, 
 trying to free himself from our three pairs 
 of arms. "Maybe it will be even nicer 
 than the original." 
 
 Christmas morning dawned clear and 
 warm. The sea had never looked so blue 
 and sparkling, nor the field so freshly green, 
 as they did on our way into town to attend 
 the early service at All Saints Church. 
 Charlotte Amalie itself, with its many- 
 colored houses, against the green of the 
 hills, might have been a giant's Christmas 
 tree. 
 
 The little church was well filled, and the 
 service in the cool half-darkness before 
 the candle-lit altar was beautiful. While 
 it lasted, I felt as though I were back in 
 the chapel at Norfolk, and it was like 
 waking from a dream to come out into the 
 bright, hot sunlight and hear the holiday 
 greetings of our St. Thomas friends.
 
 164 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 When we got back to the house, our 
 stockings, full to bursting, were dangling 
 temptingly before the fireplace. Jimmy 
 fell on his with a whoop of delight, and we 
 were n't far behind him. Then, while 
 Mother and Daddy sat on the davenport 
 and smiled upon us beatifically, we filled 
 the room with tissue paper and ribbon 
 and with shrieks of joy at each new dis- 
 covery. 
 
 "A penknife! Oh, jimmy, what a 
 beauty!" 
 
 "Oh, Mother, how did you know I' 
 wanted a new fountain pen?" 
 
 "Look, Jane, a collar and cuff set just 
 like Mrs. Hunter's!" 
 
 "Hecuba! What a peach of a painting 
 box!" 
 
 "Say, what's this?" 
 
 "Silk stockings!" 
 
 "Oranges no, they 're tennis balls." 
 
 In only too short a time we were down to 
 the last little package in the end of each toe.
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 165 
 
 We knew that the best was always last, so 
 we opened them slowly. 
 
 "A watch!" cried Martha, the first to 
 get her present unwrapped. 
 
 "A watch!'* repeated Jimmy, proudly 
 hunting for the proper pocket. "Gee, a 
 real watch !" 
 
 While I just sat staring blissfully at a 
 darling, tiny, eight-sided silver watch on a 
 band of black ribbon that just fitted my 
 wrist. 
 
 "You angelic parents," we shouted, 
 coming to our senses and half smothering 
 them with grateful hugs and kisses. 
 
 "You no eat a little somethings at all 
 this morning?" inquired Sam, grinning 
 at us from the doorway. 
 
 "You bet we do, Sam," Jimmy replied 
 eagerly. " Merry Christmas ! " 
 
 After breakfast there were more presents, 
 brought down from the Christmas closet 
 in pillowcases and distributed with great 
 ceremony by Jimmy. Only one person
 
 166 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 was allowed to unwrap at a time, so that 
 the rest of the family might have a chance 
 to inspect and admire every present. 
 Mother was delighted with her gray suede 
 handbag and had n't guessed at all, in 
 spite of Martha's break; and Father 
 thought his toilet set the most gorgeous 
 he had ever seen. 
 
 As for me, every time I 'd get a present 
 and begin to think that there was n't 
 anything left in the world that I could wish 
 for, Jimmy would hand me just the one 
 thing I had been wanting for years. 
 Martha had knitted me a stunning yellow 
 sweater, just the right shade to match the 
 Sweetheart; and Jimmy had remembered 
 her, too, for his present was a tiny search- 
 light. Daddy gave me half a dozen books 
 that I could hardly wait to read, and 
 Mother's present was a French blue kimono 
 just like Martha's pink one. I wondered 
 guiltily if she knew how I had envied 
 Martha hers all the time I was making it.
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 167 
 
 Then there were hair-ribbons and hand- 
 kerchiefs and sachets by the dozen, writing 
 paper and silk stockings, a desk set and a 
 new tennis racket from friends at home and 
 in St. Thomas. 
 
 "There never was any one so lucky," I 
 sighed happily, when the last pillowcase 
 had been emptied. 
 
 "Oh, yes, there was," contradicted 
 Martha, dancing around the room with 
 an apricot-colored evening dress over her 
 smock, a mandolin in one hand and a 
 bunch of flowers in the other. 
 
 "Huh ! Who wants old flowers and 
 clothes," shouted Jimmy contemptuously 
 from the porch, where he was trying to 
 roller-skate and play a single-handed game 
 of baseball at the same time. 
 
 Timmons had been invited to dinner, 
 which, according to Jimmy, was "some 
 feed." He loudly expressed his thanks 
 for the pipe I had had sent down from 
 New York for him. Daddy had suggested
 
 168 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 it, and I was so glad that he had, for 
 Timmons seemed more pleased with it than 
 with any of the handkerchiefs and socks 
 and candy the rest of them showered upon 
 him. 
 
 All of the officers and most of the men 
 dropped in during the afternoon. They 
 admired the tree and ate the candy canes 
 and popcorn and told jokes and funny 
 stories, or else grew reminiscent about 
 their homes and explained that they had n't 
 had this kind of a Christmas since they 
 were "kids." 
 
 In the evening the men gave a play, 
 which was a take-off, written by two of 
 the lieutenants, on the usual sob-stuff 
 Christmas story, all about a poor, fragile, 
 young coal carrier who was overcome by 
 the heat on Christmas Eve on a doorstep 
 in Charlotte Amalie. It was full of local 
 hits and personalities, and it was hard to 
 tell who enjoyed it more, the actors or the 
 audience. There were mock presents to
 
 A ST. THOMAS CHRISTMAS 169 
 
 the officers, too, and candy and cigarettes 
 "all round" and a great amount of cheering 
 and singing to end up with. 
 
 Last of all we piled the car full and drove 
 into Charlotte Amalie to hear the Christ- 
 mas carols. Bands of singers went around 
 from house to house, playing on guitars 
 and mandolins and a queer, harsh-sounding 
 instrument that Lieutenant Porter told us 
 was called a scratchy-scratch and made 
 from a calabash. Some of the carols were 
 ones we had known always, and it seemed 
 so strange to hear them rising, to such 
 weird accompaniments, in the streets of 
 the Sweetheart of the West Indies. 
 
 About midnight all the singers joined 
 forces in Emancipation Park and, as we 
 drove slowly home in the moonlight, their 
 voices came to us softened by distance. 
 
 "How about it, Jinks?" Daddy whis- 
 pered, putting his arm around me. "Was 
 it almost as good as home?" 
 
 "Better," I whispered back.
 
 170 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 But Jimmy heard us and sleepily raised 
 his head from Mother's knee. "Whadda 
 ye mean, better 'n home," he murmured 
 drowsily. "Thith ith home, thilly !"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE NEW YEAR'S FETE 
 
 SINCE almost our first day in St. 
 Thomas we had been hearing 
 about the New Year's celebration. 
 "That 's the big day here, rather than 
 Christmas," the girls at school had ex- 
 plained. "Everybody wears fancy cos- 
 tumes and masks, and at daybreak a big 
 crowd goes and sings under the mayor's 
 balcony until he comes out and makes a 
 speech and has his servants give them 
 things to eat. Of course, those are only 
 the poorer people, but in the evening almost 
 everybody goes out on the streets, and 
 those who don't, hold open house for the 
 mummers." 
 
 A whole crowd of us planned to go in
 
 172 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 from the barracks early in the evening, 
 and later Martha and I were going to a 
 dinner party at Mary Deane's. 
 
 Major Edwards asked me to be his 
 "partner", and I decided that we would 
 have original costumes, if I could do any- 
 thing about it. "Anybody can be a gipsy 
 or a clown," I explained to him. "But we 
 can think of something better, I know." 
 
 "What's this?" he asked in pretended 
 astonishment. "Me dress up an old 
 man like me ? " 
 
 "I would hardly call you old, sir," 
 I protested diplomatically. "Of course 
 you 're going to wear a costume ; you 
 can't go if you don't." 
 
 "Well, well," he chuckled, "if you say 
 so, I suppose I have to do it. Let me know 
 what it 's to be." 
 
 I puzzled my brains for two days and 
 finally told the Major that he might wear 
 his uniform, if he would put on a false 
 mustache and carry a cane. "You see "
 
 THE NEW YEAR'S FETE 173 
 
 I explained, and he was delighted with my 
 scheme. 
 
 When New Year's evening came, Mother 
 was n't feeling well and Father did n't 
 want to go without her, so Captain and 
 Mrs. Hunter promised to chaperon us, 
 turning themselves into a wicked-looking 
 pair of gipsies as an aid to performing 
 their duties. Betty Ellen and Donny made 
 a cunning Pierrette and Pierrot, and Jimmy, 
 a red-nosed clown, never left them for 
 long. Martha had on a Colonial costume 
 that had been in the family for generations, 
 and she numbered among her cavaliers an 
 Indian warrior, a Bolshevist and a ballet 
 dancer with pink maline skirts and a deep 
 bass voice. 
 
 They had all assembled in the living 
 room, and I could hear the rumble of their 
 voices and every now and then Martha's 
 silvery giggle. "Jane," she called at last, 
 "ahn't you evah coming? We've been 
 waiting pehfect ages." 

 
 174 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "On my way," I replied, tripping grace- 
 fully down the stairs. 
 
 I had the satisfaction of seeing Martha's 
 mouth fly open and her face turn scarlet, 
 and then 
 
 "Bless my soul, can this be Jane?" 
 gasped the Major. 
 
 "Right you ahe, old thing," I cooed. 
 "As soon as I get my scyahf from Mothah, 
 we can staht." 
 
 They all stood and stared at me; and 
 it was n't much wonder. I had found an 
 old black evening dress of Mother's in the 
 storeroom and cut out a breadth to make it 
 good and tight ; my hair, which I had been 
 coaxing to grow since I came to St. Thomas, 
 was rolled under and stuck out on the 
 sides in huge puffs ; I could n't find any 
 rouge, but I had painted a beautiful hectic 
 flush on each cheek with my pink water-color 
 paint and had powdered my nose until it 
 looked like a marshmallow ; I wore an 
 artificial red rose at my waist and another
 
 THE NEW YEAR'S FETE 175 
 
 in the "vampish" black chiffon hat which 
 had once belonged to Ma'amselle Nicolette ; 
 the scarf, which I needed mostly for con- 
 versational purposes, was a spangly one 
 and very long. 
 
 "Don't you all admihe my cahnival 
 costume?" I drawled. 
 
 "Jane Graves, you can't go to town and 
 to Mary Deane's in that disgusting-looking 
 dress," stormed Martha. 
 
 "No?" I inquired politely. "Then I J ll 
 have to wandeh in the gyahden." 
 
 I thought that would have a quieting 
 effect, and it did. She turned on her heel 
 without another word and stalked down 
 the path, her bodyguard straggling after 
 her. 
 
 When we reached Charlotte Amalie, we 
 found the streets crowded with maskers 
 and ankle-deep in confetti. All sorts of 
 instruments were being played, and we 
 stopped on Main Street to watch the 
 dancers. I never saw such wiggling and
 
 176 SERGEANT JANE , 
 
 squirming in my life; they seemed to 
 move every muscle in their bodies, swaying 
 from side to side and backwards and for- 
 wards in time to the hideous screechings 
 of the scratchy-scratch. Their costumes 
 seemed to be in layers, each of a different 
 though equally brilliant color. 
 
 "Sort of contagious, isn't it?" laughed 
 Lieutenant Porter, twirling around on his 
 toes until his pink ballet skirts stood out 
 straight around him. "Some class to the 
 native 'shimmie,' don't you think, Miss 
 Jane-the-Vampire ? " 
 
 "Oh, Lieutenant," I giggled coyly, 
 making sure that Martha was listening. 
 "Naughty, naughty, mahshmallow whip!' 9 
 
 "Come on; don't let's stand here all 
 night," commanded an extremely haughty 
 Colonial dame, and we moved up the street 
 in search of more excitement. 
 
 I knew I had Martha's "Angora" safe 
 in my keeping, for one night at least, but 
 before I had been walking for half an hour,
 
 THE NEW YEAR'S FETE 177 
 
 I would willingly have given it back and 
 never attempted to get it again. My skirt 
 was so tight that it made my knees ache to 
 walk, my high-heeled slippers made me turn 
 my ankle every other step, my hair kept 
 falling down, and altogether I was so hot 
 and cross and tired by the time we reached 
 the Deanes' that the thought of sitting 
 through a dinner party filled me with 
 horror. 
 
 However, Mary pinned up my hair more 
 securely, and lent me a pair of low-heeled 
 pumps and admired my costume so warmly 
 that I felt quite peppy again by the time 
 we joined the other guests in the drawing 
 room. We all wore masks and had numbers 
 pinned on our backs, and whoever guessed 
 the most people correctly was to be given 
 a prize. 
 
 I recognized Pierre right away, in a Robin 
 Hood costume of Lincoln green, and hurried 
 over to find out his number. 
 
 "Well, Monsieur," I murmured shyly,
 
 178 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "you don't know me, I see. But I know 
 you ah, yes, your image is graven on 
 my heart." 
 
 "Oo la! la!" he cried, in pretended 
 terror. "Beda Thara has captured me for 
 
 sure." 
 
 I saw that he really did n't recognize me 
 and suggested that we go around the room 
 together, hunting familiar voices. We 
 talked to Therese and to Winston Roberts 
 and Anna Larkin and Christine Dann, 
 and even to Madelon ; none of them recog- 
 nized me, and most of them thought Pierre 
 was Jacques. 
 
 "Turn in your lists," Mary called, "and 
 ask your partners for dinner, before you 
 unmask." 
 
 "You'll go with me, won't you?" said 
 Pierre. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," I promised. "My, these 
 masks are hot; let 's take them off." 
 
 "Jane," he gasped. "Well, I'll be 
 hanged ! I thought you were Martha."
 
 THE NEW YEAR'S FETE 179 
 
 "And I thought you were Pierre!" I 
 cried, equally surprised. 
 
 "Which is a good joke on both of us," 
 laughed Jacques. "Come along; they're 
 starting into the dining room." 
 
 The table was beautiful, with tall candles 
 and crimson flowers, and it was the liveliest 
 dinner party, I 'm sure, in the whole town. 
 I ate all sorts of strange dishes, that neither 
 looked nor tasted like anything, as Jacques 
 said, "animal, mineral or vegetable," and 
 talked tennis and swimming and the Marine 
 Corps ; and whenever I saw Martha look- 
 ing in my direction, I pretended to be 
 vamping Jacques for all I was worth. 
 
 "Boys and girls " began Mr. Deane, 
 suddenly rising at the other end of the 
 table. "This party to-night has a double 
 purpose to celebrate the coming of the 
 New Year and to announce an engage- 
 ment." 
 
 " W-what ? " I asked Jacques. " Who ? " 
 
 He smiled mysteriously but refused to
 
 180 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 answer and, looking around the table, I 
 saw that nearly every one seemed as sur- 
 prised as I certainly was. 
 
 "Yes," Mr. Deane continued, "this is a 
 very proud and happy moment for me 
 and I greatly appreciate the honor that is 
 mine in being asked to tell the glad news." 
 
 "Go on, tell it," some one begged, not 
 meaning to be rude. 
 
 But Mr. Deane was not to be hurried. 
 "My son, whom I believe most of you know, 
 returned only last week from the States, 
 where he has been working for the past 
 year. Did he bring a bride with him? 
 No, indeed ; he wanted a wife from Char- 
 lotte Amalie, because he knew that the 
 girls of St. Thomas are the most beautiful, 
 the most charming and the most lovable 
 in the world." 
 
 The boys applauded this eulogy politely, 
 but he went serenely ahead. "Billy thinks 
 that he has chosen the most beautiful and 
 charming of the lot and he says he had
 
 THE NEW YEAR'S FETE 181 
 
 a mighty hard time getting her. Had to 
 fairly drag her away from the doors of a 
 convent and all that sort of thing." 
 
 "Nicolette !" some one cried. 
 
 "Yes, Nicolette," answered a merry 
 voice, and Ma'amselle herself, prettier and 
 more smiling than I had ever seen her, 
 appeared in the doorway, holding tight 
 to the coat-tails of a young giant with a 
 crooked smile and eyes like Mary's. 
 
 "Hurrah!" we all cried, when we could 
 get our breath. "Tell us all about it! 
 Show us the ring! Come on in and sit 
 down!" 
 
 If the party had been lively before, it 
 became positively hilarious now, and it 
 was long past midnight before we had sung 
 the last song and drunk the last toast (in 
 sure-enough English eggnog) to the future 
 bride and groom. Then the Clerets took 
 us home in the truck, and Nicolette told 
 us confidentially how she had "thought 
 she could live without him, but found she
 
 182 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 couldn't" and now could hardly wait to 
 be married, although it would mean leaving 
 her beloved St. Thomas and going back 
 to the States with him. 
 
 "Jane," Martha asked, coming into my 
 room, as I was braiding my hair in front 
 of the mirror, "don't you think that 's the 
 most romantic thing? She never told him 
 she was thinking of becoming a nun, and 
 if he had come for her a month later, she 
 would have taken her vows and it would 
 have been too late." 
 
 " She 'd probably have let him know in 
 time," I yawned. "She knew she wanted 
 to marry him." 
 
 "All the same, I think it 's just like a 
 book," Martha protested. "I hope when 
 I" 
 
 "Nicolette Cleret is eight years older 
 than you, so I would n't begin worrying 
 about romance yet," I advised sleepily. 
 "For goodness' sake, shut up and go to 
 bed."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE INEXPLICABLE MURDOCK 
 
 " y TOW about that picnic?" Father 
 
 I 1 asked casually, one morning 
 
 -*- -*- early in February, as he pulled 
 up his chair to the breakfast table. 
 
 "Yes, how about it?" agreed Martha, 
 who had no idea what he was talking about, 
 I was sure. 
 
 "What picnic, Dad?" I asked, scorning 
 to be such a hypocrite. 
 
 "Hunter and I have been talking of pay- 
 ing a visit to the Indian excavations," he 
 explained. "It will be an all -day trip, and 
 I thought we might choose a Saturday and 
 make a picnic out of it." 
 
 "That would be great. But who 's been 
 excavating Indians?" 
 
 "Why, Jane, haven't you heard of the
 
 184 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 research work the archeologists are doing 
 at Magens Bay ? " 
 
 "The what the who are doing where ?" 
 
 "An expedition sent out by the Museum 
 of the American Indian found the remains 
 of an ancient village several feet under- 
 ground, and they are still digging up 
 pottery and relics of different kinds from 
 mounds near the shore of Magens Bay." 
 
 "Really, Jane," Martha remarked pat- 
 ronizingly, " I should think you would know 
 that, when you 've been here over eight 
 months." 
 
 "Is that so?" I replied indignantly. 
 "Well, I '11 bet ten dollars you 'd never 
 heard of it yourself five minutes ago. You 
 always wait until some one else has asked 
 about something and then act as though 
 you had known all about it all the time." 
 
 "Perhaps I heah of a few things that you 
 don't, my deah." 
 
 "Oh scratchy-scratch! You make me 
 tired!"
 
 THE INEXPLICABLE MURDOCK 185 
 
 "Jane, Jane," Mother cried reprovingly, 
 "you must not use that expression; and 
 you must n't quarrel with your sister." 
 
 "Why, Mother," I defended myself, 
 "that 's the name of a perfectly good 
 musical instrument. I 've told you so lots 
 of times. Besides, I was n't fighting with 
 her. I would n't bother to quarrel with 
 her. She 's so everlastingly " 
 
 "Come, come. Stop it, Jinks," Father 
 interrupted sternly. "This is n't getting 
 our picnic planned. I thought we would 
 take some of the men along. I suppose 
 you want Timmons ?" 
 
 "Of course. And Billy Murdock." 
 
 "And Lieutenant Gordon." 
 
 "Are Betty Ellen and Donny going, 
 Daddy?" 
 
 "Wait a minute," Father begged. "The 
 road is too rocky for anything but the old 
 truck, and that only holds fourteen. The 
 Major particularly wants to go." 
 
 "We 're five and the Hunters make nine
 
 186 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 and the Major ten and Timmons and Billy 
 twelve and Martha's old lieutenant thir- 
 teen " 
 
 "And we 'd better take Tonino to relieve 
 Timmons with the driving. So there 's our 
 party all fixed. We '11 leave as early as 
 possible next Saturday morning, if it is n't 
 too hot." 
 
 When Saturday came there was a fresh 
 ocean breeze and, although the ride up into 
 the hills was so bumpy we pretended we 
 were on a roller coaster, we kept most 
 comfortably cool all day. When we reached 
 La Folie, Timmons stopped the car, and we 
 all piled out to see the view. Directly 
 below us, in the harbor of Charlotte Amalie, 
 we could make out ships of almost every 
 nationality, patiently waiting then- turns 
 at the coaling wharves or the dry dock. 
 Along both coasts tiny green islands stood 
 out against the blue of the ocean, and the 
 air was so clear that we could easily see 
 the mountain tops of St. Croix.
 
 THE INEXPLICABLE MURDOCK 187 
 
 From La Folie the road ran down steeply 
 to the northeast, past the beautiful Louisen- 
 hoh estate, to the shore of Magens Bay. 
 The archeologists proved to be quite ordi- 
 nary-looking men, with a great fondness for 
 talking. Probably they seldom had an 
 audience. They showed us the mounds 
 and explained the special method of exca- 
 vation they used to prevent the breaking 
 of the pottery and amulets and other things 
 they found. 
 
 We invited them to share our picnic 
 lunch and, in return, they offered us coffee 
 and goats' milk and queer, spicy cakes. 
 By the time the last olive had disappeared, 
 we were beginning to wish that our elders 
 would tear themselves away. But they 
 had apparently settled down for an after- 
 noon's discussion and paid no attention to 
 our winks and sighs. So Martha and 
 Lieutenant Gordon wandered off into the 
 woods, the youngsters started an elaborate 
 game of pirate around the mounds and
 
 188 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 holes, Timmons and Antonino went on an 
 investigating tour of the truck's insides and 
 I was left to amuse myself as best I could. 
 
 I had been trying for the last six months 
 to persuade Murdock to talk to me, so 
 I was n't exactly enthusiastic over his 
 company. Still it was better than nothing, 
 and I was always willing to make another 
 attempt. 
 
 "Let 's go down to the beach," I sug- 
 gested. We had been sitting near together 
 on the edge of the group surrounding the 
 archeologists, and I knew that he had n't 
 been listening to them any more than I had. 
 
 "All right," he consented, rather to my 
 surprise, and in absolute silence we walked 
 down to the narrow strip of white sand at 
 the edge of the bay. 
 
 "Isn't it lovely?" I cried in delight, for 
 the water ran through every shade from 
 pale green to sapphire blue and sparkled 
 like diamonds in the sun. 
 
 "Uh, huh," muttered Billy lifelessly and
 
 THE INEXPLICABLE MURDOCK 189 
 
 stretched out on the warm sand with his 
 back to the shining bay. 
 
 "What makes you sulk all the time, 
 Billy?" I demanded, not bothering to be 
 diplomatic or even polite, for I had tried 
 gentler methods before. "I think you 're 
 awfully rude ; and you never used to be." 
 
 He turned and looked at me but made no 
 reply, except an unintelligible grunt. 
 
 "You haven't told me a thing about 
 your experiences in France," I persisted. 
 "Or about your sister? Is Barbara still 
 at boarding school ?" 
 
 He looked at me reproachfully and blurted 
 out : " She 's all right, I guess. Don't 
 want to talk about it." 
 
 "Don't want to talk about Barbara?" 
 I exclaimed in surprise. "Why, you never 
 could tell me enough about her at Norfolk. 
 You have n't quarreled with her, have you ? 
 Don't you remember how happy you were 
 when she came to see you ?" 
 
 He stared at me blankly. "Came to see
 
 190 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 me?" he repeated dully. "But that was 
 before I went to France." 
 
 "Yes, Billy, just before you sailed. She 
 must be very proud of you now, for she 
 surely knows how bravely you fought at 
 Belleau Wood. I wish you would tell me 
 all about it and about being taken 
 prisoner." 
 
 "Prisoner!" he cried wildly. "No! 
 No !" And flinging himself face downward 
 on the sand, he began to sob. 
 
 I had never seen a man cry before in my 
 life and was horribly embarrassed. I patted 
 him on the shoulder and tried to tell him 
 to cheer up and then I suddenly had an 
 idea. 
 
 "Billy," I cried, "you J ve been shell- 
 shocked, haven't you?" 
 
 But he only sobbed more loudly, and 
 I was afraid some one would hear him. 
 
 "Brace up, old man," I begged (that 
 being the only thing I could think of that 
 seemed appropriate for comforting a man).
 
 THE INEXPLICABLE MURDOCK 191 
 
 "You mustn't go on like this. You're 
 still upset in your er, in your nerves, 
 I guess." 
 
 He was crying more quietly now and 
 sounded so like Jimmy used to when he 
 was smaller and fell and hurt himself, that 
 I unconsciously began patting his head as 
 I talked. 
 
 "I've read about it a lot, Billy; and 
 about people losing their memories as a 
 result. Is that why you 've acted so 
 strangely to Father and me and everybody 
 you used to know ? " 
 
 I thought he nodded his head at this and 
 was encouraged to go on. "Can't you 
 remember about Barbara, either ? She 's 
 your only sister, and she just adores you 
 oh, I know you 'd remember her if you 
 could only see her." 
 
 He seemed about to start crying again, but 
 sat up instead and rubbed his forehead as 
 though it hurt. 
 
 "Here, take my handkerchief and go
 
 192 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 wash your face," I ordered, and he obeyed 
 me like a three-year-old. When he came 
 back he seemed perfectly normal again 
 and painfully embarrassed. 
 
 "Gee, Sergeant, you'll think me an ass 
 and a cry-baby and worse than that," he 
 stammered. "This thing just gets you 
 that way. You sure were good to me." 
 
 "You poor boy," I said, feeling at least 
 thirty years old. "You should have told 
 some one long ago. I '11 ask Father to 
 have the doctor see you right away." 
 
 "Oh, no, no, please," he cried, growing 
 so white I was frightened to death. 
 "Please, please, don't tell any one. 
 Promise me you won't. I '11 soon be all 
 right. If you tell any one I '11 kill myself." 
 
 Remembering that afternoon on the 
 wharf, I half believed him, but I tried to 
 argue anyhow. 
 
 "Why won't you let me, Billy? It's 
 nothing to be ashamed of, and the doctor 
 could cure you in no time."
 
 THE INEXPLICABLE MURDOCK 193 
 
 He would n't listen to me, though, and 
 kept begging me not to tell and talking so 
 wildly that I finally promised, much against 
 my will. He seemed greatly relieved and 
 jumped up almost cheerfully when we heard 
 them calling to us that they were getting 
 ready to start. 
 
 I cuddled down in the back of the truck 
 and pretended to be sleepy, so that I 
 would n't have to talk on the way home 
 and could think about Billy. Why did n't 
 he want any one to know that he had lost 
 his memory? Perhaps that was some sort 
 of mania resulting from the shock itself. 
 In that case was n't it my duty to tell 
 Daddy in spite of my promise? As if in 
 answer to this last thought, I looked up and 
 found Billy's eyes fixed intently on mine. 
 It was only for a second, and then he turned 
 back to his talk with Timmons, but I knew 
 that I would n't break my promise. Well, 
 it was too much for me ! I yawned and 
 must have dozed off, for the next thing
 
 194 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 I knew we were turning into the Barracks 
 driveway. 
 
 I was the last one out of the truck, and 
 Billy was standing at the side. "I was 
 lying to you," he whispered, as he helped 
 me jump down. "I haven't lost my 
 memory. I never got shell-shocked. Not 
 remember Barbara? I remember every 
 yellow curl on her head and every freckle 
 on her turned-up nose. I remember you 
 and all your family just as well. I lied to 
 you ; and I 'm sorry. But you promised 
 not to tell, and that promise still holds." 
 
 He climbed back into the truck, threw in 
 the clutch and drove away, before I could 
 open my mouth to question him. If I had 
 thought him queer before, I was sure now 
 that he was crazy.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 I WRITE A LETTER AND MAKE A BET 
 
 I WOKE up early the next morning 
 early, that is, for a Sunday and lay 
 in bed and thought about Billy. The 
 more I thought about him, though, the more 
 unexplainable it all seemed. If he had n't 
 been shell-shocked, what had been his 
 reason for crying ? If he had n't lost his 
 memory, why did he treat his old friends 
 so queerly and refuse to talk about his 
 sister ? 
 
 Billy Murdock was the last person in the 
 world I would have expected to act so 
 strangely. He had enlisted just before we 
 went to Norfolk and was one of the first 
 men I knew in Company D. Father had 
 been talking to him one day after drill
 
 196 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 when I came running up with a message, 
 and at Daddy's "Well, Jane, what do you 
 think of this new recruit?" Billy turned 
 crimson. He was just eighteen then and 
 so anxious to make good that, according to 
 his corporal, he even begged for extra k. p. 
 
 "There are just two things I 'm really 
 crazy about," Bill had confided to me one 
 day, after we had known each other for 
 several months. "One of them is the 
 marines, of course, and the other 's my kid 
 sister." 
 
 Naturally I asked about his sister and 
 got the story of his life in reply to my 
 question. His parents had been killed 
 in a railroad accident when he was about 
 six years old and his sister only a baby. 
 They had been taken care of by a rather 
 eccentric uncle, who had plenty of money 
 but not much affection to give them, and 
 they had been everything to each other. 
 Billy's father had been a lieutenant in the 
 marines, and the boy's dearest wish was to
 
 I WRITE A LETTER 197 
 
 follow in his footsteps. But the uncle was 
 a pacifist and wanted him to be a minister. 
 As soon as he was eighteen, Billy ran away 
 and enlisted as a private in the marines, 
 and he was perfectly happy except that he 
 missed Barbara a great deal. 
 
 "She wanted me to do it, though," he 
 had explained, "and she 's proud of me. 
 Father used to say it 's almost the only 
 thing I can remember about him * Billy, 
 there 's nothing finer in the whole round 
 world than the right kind of a marine ; and 
 there 's nothing worse than a marine who 
 fails to do his duty or is disloyal to his 
 country. Some day, Billy, you '11 grow 
 up, and you must never forget which kind 
 you 're going to be for of course you '11 
 be some kind of a marine.' 
 
 "That 's what my Father used to say to 
 me over and over again when I was just 
 a little shaver. I Ve never forgotten it, 
 and I still think it 's a great thing for a 
 fellow to try to live up to."
 
 198 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 And he had gone off, whistling, to scrub 
 down the barrack steps. 
 
 It was hard to believe that this sullen, 
 secretive, moody Billy could be the same 
 boy. Timmons had even told me, greatly 
 puzzled himself at the change, that Billy 
 shirked his duties or did them half- 
 heartedly. 
 
 "Hi, Sister!" Jimmy's far from gentle 
 voice broke in on my thoughts. "Hi, 
 Sis ! Mother says to get a wiggle on if you 
 want any waffles." 
 
 Nothing was going to come between me 
 and a half-dozen hot, crisp, brown waffles 
 if I could help it, so Murdock was hastily 
 banished to the backmost corner of my 
 brain. However, he was n't destined to 
 stay there long, for we had hardly reached 
 our pew in the little Episcopal church we 
 always attended before I caught sight of 
 a familiar red head directly in front of 
 me and I 'm afraid my mind wandered 
 far away during the sermon.
 
 I WRITE A LETTER 199 
 
 As soon as dinner was over, I went up to 
 my room, though I had to stick my fingers 
 in my ears to keep from hearing Timmons' 
 tempting "come out for a paddle" whistle. 
 I had decided to write a letter, and nothing 
 was going to stop me. I was almost sure 
 Billy was n't writing to his sister, for Jack 
 Blainey, who gave out the mail, had told me 
 that he did n't think Billy had received a 
 single letter since he 'd been at St. Thomas. 
 Anyway, I meant to write to Barbara my- 
 self and find out. But as I had n't any 
 notion what the trouble was, I tore up 
 dozens of sheets of paper and bent the point 
 of my fountain pen into a regular fishhook 
 before I composed a letter that did n't say 
 too much or make me seem to be butting in. 
 
 "Dear Barbara": I finally wrote, in 
 despair of doing any better. "I wonder 
 whether you remember me? When you 
 visited your brother Billy at Norfolk, we 
 played tennis together and I showed you 
 around the Post. That was over two years
 
 200 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 ago, and I suppose by now you are quite 
 grown up and would n't think of swiping 
 ginger cookies or sliding down the banis- 
 ters the way we did then. 
 
 "We have been down here at St. Thomas 
 ever since last May and like it lots. Father 
 is in charge of the Post, and there are about 
 twelve other officers and over two hundred 
 men here. It was great to find some old 
 friends among them, especially your brother. 
 He seems older since he 's been to war, 
 does n't he ? His hair is as red as ever 
 though, and he still calls me Sergeant. 
 
 "We go to a Convent School in Charlotte 
 Amalie, and I shock the Sister sail the time by 
 teaching them (the girls, not the teachers) to 
 play basketball and talk slang, etc. 
 
 "Are you still at school in Peekskill? 
 Please write to me soon and tell me all 
 about yourself. I have never forgotten 
 you and I hope you have n't me. 
 "With love, 
 
 "JANE SETON GRAVES."
 
 I WRITE A LETTER 201 
 
 I put' the address at the bottom in big, 
 black letters, so she would be sure to see it, 
 for I thought she might want to know more 
 about Billy right away. 
 
 After hunting for half an hour in my desk 
 and bureau drawers for my address book, 
 I finally found it wrapped in a red middy 
 tie in a box in the top of the closet. (There 
 are some advantages in being a perfect lady, 
 though I will never admit it in public.) 
 Then I addressed and sealed the envelope 
 and took it over to go with the barracks' 
 mail. 
 
 I tried to find Timmons but could n't, 
 and my family were all too lazy to move 
 from the porch, where they were gossiping 
 with the Hunters, so I went down to the 
 wharf by myself, feeling comfortably 
 virtuous because the letter was finished 
 and planning to reward myself with a nice 
 long paddle. I never thought much of 
 that proverb about virtue being its own 
 reward, so I was n't a bit pleased when
 
 202 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 I was informed by various members of 
 the Sunday-afternoon loafing club that 
 Timmons had taken the Sweetheart and 
 a couple of cronies and departed in the 
 general direction of the inlet shortly after 
 dinner. 
 
 "Doggone the luck," I muttered crossly, 
 sitting down on one of the pilings and 
 sticking my hands into the pockets of my 
 yellow sweater. "Ever since he made that 
 canoe, I Ve been begging him to use it him- 
 self, and he never would until just the day 
 I wanted it most. Drat him!" 
 
 "Wai, Sergeant," drawled Tim Thomp- 
 son, a plump, bow-legged little Yankee, 
 "I 'm afraid there 's not a blooming boat 
 left in this harbor. My own palatial yacht 
 is laid up in the dry dock for repairs." He 
 pointed dramatically to a lop-sided, flat- 
 bottomed, paintless row-boat drawn up on 
 the beach. 
 
 "What *s the matter with her?" I asked, 
 for she looked as solid and unsinkable as ever.
 
 I WRITE A LETTER 203 
 
 "She leaks!" Antonino chimed in, shak- 
 ing his head dolefully. "The lufly 
 and bee-yu-ti-ful Lily-uf-the-Valley has 
 springed a nawful leak." 
 
 " Lily-of -the- Valley !" I cried in astonish- 
 ment. "Why, I thought her name was 
 Mudhen." 
 
 "It was, Sergeant, it was." Corporal 
 McGraw rose to his full six feet of manly 
 beauty the better to explain. "We used 
 to insult her by that unkind name. We 
 blush to think of it now, don't we, boys? 
 (Blush, dingbust you, blush. You 're a 
 fine lot of illustrations.) But the Reverend 
 Kenyon gave us a most inspirational talk 
 on the beeyutifulness of everyday things, 
 and we came to see the error of our ways. 
 He says to us, says he, 'If you think a 
 thing is beautiful, it becomes so.' 
 
 "'Tres been,' say we, 'we '11 think of the 
 Mudhen as a beeyutiful yacht, all white 
 decks and shining brasses and hundred- 
 horse-power engines.' To help the idea
 
 204 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 along, we baptized her over again with the 
 more fitting appel appalachian of Lily- 
 of-the-Valley. Then we went for a sail in 
 our new yacht." 
 
 "Well," I laughed. "What then?" 
 
 "Why, then," Tim took up the tale, 
 "seeing that she was now a high-class 
 pleasure boat, she proceeded to act as such ; 
 which is to say " 
 
 "She springed a leak a nawful leak," 
 Antonino concluded. 
 
 Then they all three turned down the 
 corners of their mouths and frowned at me 
 coldly, because I could n't stop laughing. 
 
 "That 's a great idea about ugly things 
 looking beautiful if you think 'em that way," 
 I remarked hastily, not wanting the con- 
 versation to die away just yet. "Maybe 
 I could apply it to Sister Agatha." 
 
 "Who 's she?" inquired McGraw, allow- 
 ing a twinkle to creep into his disapproving 
 stare. 
 
 "One of the teachers at school. She 's an
 
 I WRITE A LETTER 205 
 
 awful crank and looks as though she 's been 
 left out all night in the rain." 
 
 "That 's a fine way to speak of your 
 elders and betters," drawled Tim, languidly 
 scratching a match on the sole of his shoe. 
 "She 's no doubt an estimable woman " 
 
 "Has a strong face, means well, and is 
 good to her mother," interrupted McGraw. 
 " She 's settled. Say though, Sergeant, 
 what kind of girls do you have at this 
 school of yours? I saw a bunch of them 
 in town the other day, and they looked like 
 regular doll-baby sissies." 
 
 "They 're no such thing. They 're 
 dandy girls. I think you 're mighty rude 
 to talk that way," I spluttered indignantly. 
 
 "Beg your pardon; beg your pardon. 
 I did n't mean that they were n't attractive 
 and agreeable and all that. I just thought 
 they did n't seem much your sort not 
 enough pep." 
 
 "Pep! Huh! You ought to see some of 
 our basketball games."
 
 206 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "I 'm willing. Lead me to them." 
 
 "I don't believe they would let you 
 watch us at the school. The Sisters are 
 awfully particular and get shocked at 
 everything." 
 
 "Well, then, bring them over here. 
 What 's the matter with our field ? I 
 tell you what bring 'em over and we '11 
 play 'em. Then we '11 see who's got the 
 pep." 
 
 "Oh, McGraw, we could n't do that !" 
 
 "Scared to, are you? I might have 
 known." 
 
 "I'm not." 
 
 "You are." 
 
 " Here ! Here ! Wait a minute ! Stop ! 
 Don't get excited!" Tim and Antonino, 
 up till now a silent audience, were anxious 
 to keep the peace. 
 
 "Keep your hats on," Tim implored, 
 grabbing me by the skirt, for I had jumped 
 up and started toward McGraw. " What'd 
 you want to tease her for, you big stiff?
 
 I WRITE A LETTER 207 
 
 She 's got enough red in her hair to warn 
 you off." 
 
 "All right," said McGraw. "I was only 
 joking. You did n't suppose I really 
 thought those girls would have nerve 
 enough to do it." 
 
 "What '11 you bet they haven't?" I 
 demanded professionally, jumping up again 
 as soon as Tim let go of my skirt. " I '11 
 take you up for any amount." 
 
 McGraw looked surprised, mumbled 
 something about not betting on a sure 
 thing and then offered, "Two to one on 
 anything you say." 
 
 " Well," I decided after thinking a minute, 
 "if they don't play, I'll buy you a dozen 
 packages of cigarettes; and if they do, 
 you '11 buy every girl on the team a box of 
 candy." 
 
 "It's a go," he agreed. "Gee, I wish 
 they would really do it. It would be some 
 sport." 
 
 "They really will; don't worry about
 
 208 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 that," I assured him. "You '11 have to 
 play according to our rules though, or it 
 would be too easy for you." 
 
 "Make the men all wear skirts, too," 
 Tim suggested. 
 
 "Let us be the yumpires?" Antonino 
 begged. " When is this game to come off ? " 
 
 "Friday afternoon," I decided. "We 
 get out at three-thirty and don't play at 
 school on Fridays. You 'd better begin 
 saving up your money for the candy, 
 McGraw." 
 
 "I 'm not worrying," he called after me, 
 as I started up to the house. " You have n't 
 any team yet."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 I NEVER used to be superstitious. In 
 fact I had n't much use for people who 
 were. But now I know that there is 
 something queer about Fridays, and I treat 
 them with caution. So would you, if you 
 had lived through one such sixth day in the 
 week as I did. 
 
 Things began to go wrong from the 
 start. I could n't find my Spanish book 
 and was late for school. When we went 
 in for morning exercises, Sister Agatha 
 announced that Sister Thecla was ill and 
 that she would therefore lead the prayers. 
 
 Madelon and I were on the back row, 
 because of my lateness, and we got through 
 the first hymn serenely. Then came
 
 210 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 prayers, and according to the custom of the 
 school, we knelt on the floor with our hands 
 clasped on the back of the bench in front of 
 us. The wooden backs came down to the 
 seats only at the ends; in between was 
 an opening about six inches wide. 
 Sister Agatha's voice droned on and on 
 until my knees ached and my back refused 
 to stay up straight another instant. 
 
 "I dare you to stick your head through, 
 Jean Graves," Madelon whispered, when 
 from sheer exhaustion we had sunk down 
 and were sitting on our legs. 
 
 But I was n't so easily tempted. 
 
 "Double dare," she whispered again. 
 
 Of course nobody ever refuses a double 
 dare, so I turned my head sideways and 
 stuck it through the opening in the bench 
 in front of me. Madelon was only a 
 second behind me and had turned in the 
 opposite direction so that we faced each 
 other. 
 
 "Prisoners in the stocks," she giggled.
 
 A SCRAP OF PAPER 211 
 
 "Amen!" boomed a distant voice, and 
 scrambling sounds began as the school rose 
 to its feet. I hastily withdrew my head 
 as far as the ears. Farther it would n't 
 go. Either the opening had shrunk, or 
 my brain had unaccountably expanded. I 
 twisted and tugged, and stayed where 
 I was. 
 
 "Madelon, I 'm stuck," I gasped, but 
 I could no longer see anything of my side- 
 partner except her shoes. Her head had 
 not grown larger while she knelt. 
 
 Every one was standing by this time and, 
 although Madelon explained afterward that 
 she tried her best to hide me with her skirt, 
 the rest of the row had discovered my 
 plight. Being girls, they giggled, mildly at 
 first and then, as more and more of them 
 caught on and turned to stare, so loudly that 
 the whole room was in an uproar. Sister 
 Agatha's voice, cold and angry, came 
 vaguely to my ears, but I was too much 
 embarrassed and too busy to pay much
 
 212 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 attention to it. Madelon and several other 
 girls had come to my assistance and were 
 trying, between fits of laughter, to get me 
 out. 
 
 "Slide down till you come to a wider 
 place." 
 
 "Turn on the other side." 
 
 "Pull harder." 
 
 "Turn on your back." 
 
 I tried to follow everybody's advice at 
 once and just stuck the tighter. "Tilt 
 the darn bench, you bloomin* idiot," I 
 shouted, and looked up (being prac- 
 tically on my back by this time) into the 
 stony countenance of Sister Agatha. 
 
 Of course my head slipped out quite 
 easily as soon as she took charge, and she 
 refused to believe that I had not done the 
 whole thing on purpose. After it was all 
 over, I went into sewing with, the others 
 and Martha whispered, giggling, "Got a 
 lecture for being too pious, didn't you?" 
 
 If she had n't been so lacking in sisterly
 
 A SCRAP OF PAPER 213 
 
 sympathy, I might have felt worse about 
 what happened later. As it was, I could n't 
 help laughing, although I did feel sorry for 
 her. 
 
 In the middle of the sewing period Sister 
 Agatha suddenly darted from the table 
 where she had been cutting out wash bags 
 and swooped down on one of the side aisles. 
 
 "A note!" she cried, straightening up, 
 with a piece of white paper in her hand. 
 "A note !" It sounded as though she were 
 saying a bomb, or a dagger, or a snake, and 
 the room grew deathly still. 
 
 She deliberately opened the note and 
 read it through slowly before she spoke. 
 "Will the young lady who wrote this 
 this missive kindly stand up," she ordered 
 in her severest tones. 
 
 Martha rose to her feet, blushing 
 violently. "I wrote it," she acknowledged. 
 
 Sister Agatha seemed a trifle disconcerted. 
 I think she had been hoping I would prove 
 to be the culprit. Then she evidently
 
 214 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 decided that it was all in the family, any- 
 way, so she might as well make the best of it. 
 
 "This is an unheard-of occurrence," she 
 declared, glaring at poor Martha as though 
 she would like to eat her. "Such a thing 
 has never happened in this school before. 
 None of our girls would be so dishonorable 
 as to pass a note. I am " 
 
 Therese was waving her hand so fran- 
 tically that Sister Agatha was forced to 
 acknowledge it. 
 
 "Martha's not the only one who passes 
 notes," the French girl declared hotly. 
 "We all do and I don't see anything 
 dishonorable about it." 
 
 "Lots of us pass notes." "Of course we 
 do " Several others chimed in, and 
 Sister Agatha was obliged to change her 
 method of attack. 
 
 "In that case, since there was no inten- 
 tion of secrecy or underhandedness," she 
 informed the class, "Martha will be glad 
 to share the contents of the note with us.
 
 A SCRAP OF PAPER 215 
 
 Go to the front of the room, Martha, and 
 read it out loud." 
 
 "Oh, no, please," Martha begged, on the 
 verge of tears. "Please don't make me 
 do that." 
 
 But Sister Agatha put the note into her 
 hands, pushed her up the aisle and stood 
 over her while she read. 
 
 "Oh, T.," she began, blushing harder 
 than ever, "I 'm so glad I 'm going to 
 spend the week-end with you. I hope J. 
 can go on the picnic. He has the most 
 wonderful eyes (oh, please, Sister Agatha, 
 don't make me read it !) and thrills me 
 to death when he looks at me you know 
 how. (I can 't read any more I can't.) 
 I told you what W. said about your being 
 different from any one else in the world and 
 all that, so don't forget your promise about 
 J. and P." 
 
 She finished all in one breath at full 
 speed, tore the fatal paper into a thousand 
 bits and stalked back to her seat with her
 
 216 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 head high in the air. I had to admit that 
 she was plucky and that I could never have 
 gone through with it as well, for the class 
 was roaring and Therese had turned every 
 color of the rainbow. But then there 
 was n't much danger of my getting into 
 trouble by writing slushy notes. 
 
 There were plenty of other ways to get 
 there, though, as I soon discovered. After 
 school Martha came out from an interview 
 with Sister Agatha, with her chin still 
 pointing skyward, and departed with 
 Therese for her week-end at La Patrie. 
 Then Mary Deane, Madelon, Christine 
 Dann, Anna Larkin, Rose Chattam and 
 I put on our bloomers under our skirts, 
 thinking that the best way to smuggle 
 them past Sister Agatha, and set out for the 
 barracks. These were n't our best basket- 
 ball players in fact, Anna was about the 
 worst but they were the only ones who 
 had had the afternoon free and been good 
 enough sports to volunteer.
 
 A SCRAP OF PAPER 217 
 
 The court was freshly marked and rolled, 
 we discovered when we reached it, and 
 practically all the men not on the team or 
 on duty that afternoon were lined up along 
 the side lines. We went into the house to 
 take off our skirts and put on middy 
 blouses, and I found that Mother and Dad 
 had gone out for a ride. I had decided not 
 to tell them about the game until the last 
 minute, just in case they should object, 
 though I really did n't expect them to, so 
 I was n't broken-hearted at their absence. 
 
 The men cheered when we marched on 
 to the field, but the real noise came when 
 the marine team lockstepped out from the 
 barracks, ribbons flying in the breeze, 
 picture hats flopping and skirts of all 
 lengths and colors over their uniforms. 
 I could n't imagine where they had col- 
 lected so many clothes in that womanless 
 Post until I recognized an old green silk 
 petticoat of mine, which came just to 
 McGraw's knees and made him look like
 
 218 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 an overgrown ballet dancer. Then I spotted 
 other loot from our storeroom and from 
 Mrs. Hunter's, and I began to suspect that 
 Jimmy had n't been far away when the 
 team costumed itself. 
 
 They were all gotten up in most fearful 
 and wonderful style, but Shorty Davis, the 
 diminutive side-center, took the prize, hob- 
 bling around in the black satin evening 
 dress I had worn to the New Year's 
 fte, with a bright green sash draped over 
 one shoulder and a gold-lace boudoir cap 
 perched on top of a row of red-woolen curls. 
 
 McGraw pirouetted gracefully to my side 
 and saluted. "At your service, Sergeant," 
 he piped in a would-be feminine voice. 
 
 "Do I win my bet?" I demanded. 
 
 "You do after you've played." 
 
 So I explained the rules, more or less, 
 while the players listened a little and the 
 umpires not at all, and then the teams 
 lined up for the whistle, which was the 
 dinner gong in Antonino's practised hands.
 
 A SCRAP OF PAPER 219 
 
 The men thought that of course they 
 would just have to pretend to play, but 
 when we plunked the ball in the basket 
 three times in the first five minutes, they 
 began to wake up and realize that with 
 skirts and girls' rules and Tony calling 
 rounds every few minutes because he was 
 more used to prize-fighting than basket- 
 ball, it was n't going to be so easy to beat 
 us. Their best chance came when our 
 entire team collapsed in a fit of giggles at 
 the sight of Shorty Davis, having given up 
 all attempts at separating his feet far 
 enough to run, moving about by hops and 
 broad jumps, at each of which he shed one 
 of his crimson curls. 
 
 The audience howled and shrieked ad- 
 vice to their team of ladies and applauded 
 both sides with equal enthusiasm whenever 
 a goal was made. The score was a tie, 
 eight to eight. Shorty had just tripped 
 over his own feet and fallen headfirst into 
 his boudoir cap ; Anna Larkin, her face
 
 220 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 scarlet and her mouth wide open, had her 
 arms firmly clasped round McGraw's green 
 petticoat in a hopeless effort to stop him 
 in a dash across center; Madelon and the 
 forward she was guarding were having 
 what seemed to be a tug-of-war with 
 the latter's straw hat; and I was lying 
 flat on my back with the ball in my arms 
 and Lyman standing over me, waiting 
 for me to get up when the howls of 
 the audience abruptly ceased, the players 
 stopped as if frozen in their tracks, and 
 Lyman, backing away from me, cried to 
 high heaven, "Holy Cats! Look who's 
 here!" 
 
 I jumped to my feet and stared at the 
 driveway. Then I rubbed my eyes and 
 stared again. But the dilapidated buggy 
 and the white horse refused to disappear, 
 and the two black-gowned figures in the 
 front seat of the buggy were only too 
 familiar. For the first time in history, 
 Sisters from the Holy Cross Convent were
 
 A SCRAP OF PAPER 221 
 
 paying a visit to the Marine Barracks, and 
 one of them, of course, was named Agatha. 
 
 Is it any wonder that I have lost my 
 fondness for Fridays? As it turned out, 
 though, things might have been worse. 
 Sister Agatha had been coming to tell 
 Mother about Martha's note-passing pro- 
 clivities, but the sight she saw on the way 
 almost put that minor offense out of her 
 mind. Mother and Dad drove up while 
 the buggy was still keeping the basketball 
 game in a state of suspended animation. 
 Explanations and expressions of opinion 
 followed, and in due course an armistice 
 was signed and certain terms of peace were 
 imposed. 
 
 Jimmy, as usual, managed to get some- 
 thing to his advantage out of the rumpus. 
 As a concession to Sister Agatha's feelings, 
 Mother had promised to send her two way- 
 ward daughters to their rooms immediately 
 after supper for a week. When we meekly 
 trotted up the stairs on Monday evening,
 
 222 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 we found that our small brother had already 
 retired and locked both of his doors. 
 
 "Jimmy," Martha suggested sweetly, 
 "wouldn't you like us to come in and 
 watch the moving pictures with you?" 
 
 "Nothin* doin'," he answered briefly 
 and to the point. 
 
 "Drat the child," said Martha, not so 
 sweetly. "Can't we possibly see them 
 from your room, Jane? " 
 
 " Only half the sheet," I lamented. " The 
 chimney cuts off the rest." 
 
 So we stooped to bargaining. "What 
 do you want to let us in ? " I shouted through 
 the keyhole. 
 
 "A nickel apiece," decreed the lord of 
 our fate, without a moment's hesitation. 
 
 "Might as well fork it out, had n't we?" 
 Martha asked, and I nodded. A minute 
 later we stuck our five-cent pieces under the 
 door. 
 
 "That 's not enough," the child profiteer 
 announced coldly.
 
 A SCRAP OF PAPER 223 
 
 "You said a nickel, Jimmy Graves," 
 Martha replied indignantly. 
 
 "Yes, but you forgot the two centh war 
 takth," he lisped gently but firmly. "It 's 
 theven thenth a night, but I might make 
 thpecial rateth by the week." 
 
 When I told Daddy about it, he said that 
 if none of Jimmy's other careers panned 
 out, he could always be sure of a success 
 in high finance. 
 
 V
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A VISIT FROM THE COMMISSION 
 
 "T T URRY U P> J inks! " Father 
 
 I 1 shouted up the stairs one after- 
 
 * * noon early in April. "The 
 boat 's almost in, and it would never do 
 to keep their royal commissionerships 
 waiting." 
 
 "Coming right away," I called back, as 
 I pulled my floppy Chachas hat over my 
 eyes and took a parting look in the mirror 
 to see if I were really as sunburned as my 
 white organdie dress made me look. 
 
 The rest of the family were already in 
 the car, with the Major and Captain and 
 Mrs. Hunter. A khaki-colored squad was 
 just disappearing down the road to town, and 
 four motorcyclists were waiting to escort us.
 
 A VISIT FROM THE COMMISSION 225 
 
 "I feel like a bloomin' parade," Jimmy 
 cried excitedly, as the car snorted and 
 plunged forward. 
 
 "Well, it 's not every day we 're honored 
 by the visit of a sure-enough guaranteed 
 genuine committee from the States, bent on 
 investigating and improving our modest 
 little island," the Major replied, with a 
 twinkle in his eye. 
 
 "I don't think we need improving," 
 Jimmy declared loyally. "But I 'm glad 
 they 're coming, 'cause there 's to be a 
 parade drill and all sorts of big eats." 
 
 The gangplank was being lowered as we 
 reached the dock, and the marines were 
 lined up at attention on either side. 
 Father and the other officers took their 
 places at the heads of the columns, and 
 Mother stayed in the car, but we slipped 
 out, having been forewarned not to expect 
 a ride home, and pushed as near the front 
 of the crowd as we could. 
 
 A number of deckhands hurried down
 
 226 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 the plank and helped the men on the 
 wharf make it fast. Then came a dozen 
 marines and as many sailors, and after 
 them five portly gentlemen, who would 
 have looked more natural in frock coats 
 and high hats than they did in white drill 
 and Panamas. 
 
 "Gee, they all look like twins," whis- 
 pered Jimmy. "Here 's some more 
 marines and Sis, look quick at Billy 
 Murdock. What 's he doing?" 
 
 I saw him immediately and stared in 
 surprise. He had slipped away from his 
 place in the rear line and was talking 
 rapidly to a blond, sullen-looking deck- 
 hand, whose shoulders he grasped tightly 
 with both hands. 
 
 Lieutenant Porter had evidently noticed 
 the tableau at the same instant. "Mur- 
 dock," he commanded, "get back into line." 
 
 Billy did n't pay the slightest attention. 
 He was shaking the deck hand now and 
 seemed to be asking questions to which he
 
 A VISIT FROM THE COMMISSION 227 
 
 could get no answers. The commissioners 
 and officers were exchanging greetings and 
 compliments so noisily that we could n't 
 hear a word he was saying. 
 
 We saw Lieutenant Porter stride over 
 to Murdock and, white with anger, order 
 him once more to get back to his place. 
 Murdock, turning a minute from his 
 victim, shook his head stubbornly, and 
 when the lieutenant tried to take him by 
 the arm, shook himself free and gave that 
 astonished officer a hearty shove in the ribs. 
 
 Jimmy looked at me in open-mouthed 
 amazement, and I could only stare stupidly 
 back. In another minute two of the men 
 had Murdock by the arms, and under 
 Lieutenant Porter's commands were 
 marching him up the road in the dust of 
 the slowly-moving car. 
 
 "Well, I'll be jelly-jashed-jammed!" 
 Jimmy always invented new expressions 
 in moments of greatest excitement. 
 "What ever hath got into old Murdock?"
 
 228 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "What do you suppose it was all 
 about?" Martha inquired, gazing in be- 
 wilderment up the dusty road. "They '11 
 put him in the fortress for disobeying 
 Lieutenant Porter, I suppose. Well, he 
 surely deserved it ! " 
 
 "There must have been some reason for 
 his doing it," I temporized. Somehow I 
 could n't help wanting to stand up for 
 Billy, even though he had acted so queerly 
 ever since we had been at St. Thomas. 
 
 "Let 's talk to that old boy," Jimmy 
 suggested, pointing to the deckhand, who 
 was still standing where Murdock , had 
 left him, a dazed look on his face and his 
 hands stuck deep in his overall pockets. 
 
 Jimmy, being the only man in the party, 
 took the lead. 
 
 "What did Murdock say to you, and 
 what 's your name?" he demanded, plant- 
 ing himself squarely in front of the stranger. 
 
 The man eyed him sullenly. 
 
 "I don't know vat he vanted," he
 
 A VISIT FROM THE COMMISSION 229 
 
 muttered finally. " I nefer saw him before. 
 I think he iss crazy." 
 
 "Why, you're German!'* I exclaimed. 
 "What 's your name?" 
 
 "I am nod German. I am Swees. My 
 name iss Frangois Javal." 
 
 "All right, Frangois," I agreed hastily, 
 for he was glaring at me in a far from 
 friendly manner. "Anything you say! 
 Do you work on this boat ? " 
 
 "Yess," he replied shortly and turned 
 his back on us to indicate that the con- 
 versation was ended. 
 
 We tried to make him tell us something 
 about his meeting with Murdock, but he 
 refused to say another word, and we finally 
 gave him up in despair and started home, 
 puzzling our brains for some explanation 
 of Billy's behavior. 
 
 There was a big dinner at the barracks 
 that night hi honor of the Commissioners, 
 and we hung around in the court, waiting 
 for the moving pictures to begin and
 
 230 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 getting away with several pints of choco- 
 late ice cream that Tony sneaked out to us. 
 I was anxious for some news about Billy 
 and walked down to the fort when the 
 men went to change guard. 
 
 Timmons was coming off duty, and I 
 tried to pump him, but he said that all 
 he knew was that Murdock had been 
 locked up and would be court-martialed 
 to-morrow or the next day, and that he 
 refused to say a word. 
 
 "Nuts, if you ask me," the old sergeant 
 remarked, tapping his head. "It looks 
 sort of bad for him, seein's how the Lieut, 
 is consid'rable het up at the insult to his 
 dignity, and besides, they 've been and 
 found out that there rope-hauler Murdock 
 was so set on confabbing with is a Boche." 
 
 "I thought he was !" I cried. "How did 
 he ever happen to be on that English 
 steamship?'* 
 
 "Well, I don't rightly know, Miss Jane. 
 But they say they were short-handed up to
 
 A VISIT FROM THE COMMISSION 231 
 
 Porto Rico and took on some extra hands. 
 That 's just what they say, mind you ; I 
 don' know no thin'." 
 
 "What else do they say, Timmons?" I 
 asked, knowing that this was the only 
 way to get any information from him. 
 
 "Well, of course I don' know how much 
 truth there is in it," he hinted cautiously. 
 "As I hears it, the name of this Boche is 
 Franz Zeitler, and he 's got some relatives 
 living on this here island." 
 
 " He has ? How do you know ? " 
 
 "I don' know," he corrected me sternly. 
 "I don' know nothin' about it at all. 
 I 'm just tellin' you that they said he was 
 followed when he went off on shore leave 
 late this afternoon, and he went to a 
 certain house I'm not knowing where, 
 mind you and talked a lot of Boche 
 talk to the people in it and acted like a 
 reg'lar fam'ly reunion." 
 
 "And what do they say about Murdock 
 talking to him?" I prompted.
 
 232 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 But Timmons refused to part with any 
 more information and made off abruptly 
 for the mess room. 
 
 Jimmy had saved a seat for me, and I 
 told him all I had been able to find out. 
 
 "I don't see that it explains anything, 
 though, do you?" I asked, when I had 
 finished the little I knew of Franz's auto- 
 biography. "If Billy had any dealings 
 with that old German, he would n't rush up 
 to him in front of the whole company and 
 officers and commissioners and the rest of 
 the mob on that wharf, would he?" 
 
 "I '11 think about it," Jimmy offered 
 graciously and turned his entire attention 
 to the cowboys on the screen. 
 
 The next morning there was a big drill 
 in the parade grounds, with lots of special 
 marching and firing of cannons and polite 
 compliments by the visitors. In the after- 
 noon, following an official luncheon in 
 town, there was an athletic carnival hi 
 Emancipation Park. The little Spicks
 
 A VISIT FROM THE COMMISSION 233 
 
 from the public school paraded and danced 
 and sang songs. They were every shade 
 from the inkiest black to pale tan, and 
 they all wore white and carried American 
 flags. They were so solemn about it all 
 and tried so hard to keep in step and in 
 time with the band, that they made a hit 
 with everybody. Then our school teams 
 played an exhibition basketball game. 
 The Sisters had gotten so used to seeing us 
 in bloomers that they did n't object at all 
 when Father asked their permission, and 
 even though most of the town people had 
 no idea what it was all about, they cheered 
 and clapped and seemed to enjoy it almost 
 as much as the marines did. 
 
 I had decided to ask Father's permission 
 to talk to Billy, but as a result of all the 
 festivities, I did n't have a chance to see 
 him alone until after supper that evening, 
 when the Commissioners had gone back 
 to their hotel to rest up for a long motor 
 trip the next morning. And then when I
 
 234 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 told him what I wanted to do, he flatly 
 refused to let me. 
 
 "But, Dad," I protested, "I know 
 there 's something to be said on Billy's 
 side, and maybe he will talk to me." 
 
 "Possibly," Father replied, squinting 
 into the stem of his pipe with a worried 
 expression. "Just at present, however, 
 Murdock is under guard for breaking ranks, 
 engaging in conversation, which he refuses 
 to explain, with a German deckhand, dis- 
 obeying and er shoving an officer. I 
 can see no possible reason for waiving regu- 
 lations to let you have a chat with him." 
 
 "But I might find something out," I 
 insisted. 
 
 "That will be up to the court-martial 
 to-morrow, my dear. In the meantime, 
 I '11 have to forbid your making any at- 
 tempt to see Murdock." 
 
 And having pronounced this heartless 
 ultimatum, Daddy lit his pipe and strolled 
 down the path into the garden.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 
 
 I SAT on the porch railing for several 
 minutes after Daddy left me, trying 
 to decide what to do. I was pretty 
 sure that if I told Father everything I 
 knew about Billy, he would let me see 
 him ; but I had promised not to tell. 
 
 Besides, I wanted to rescue him "on my 
 own." I could see the grim court-martial, 
 with Billy, white and trembling, and all 
 the officers, even my own Father, sternly 
 sentencing him to dishonorable discharge or 
 imprisonment or even death, for Lieuten- 
 ant Porter might ^claim that Billy had ac- 
 tually struck him. But I would have dis- 
 covered the secret of his strange behavior 
 and would rush in just in time to save him.
 
 236 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 It would have made a lovely movie, and 
 I had always wanted to be a heroine, not 
 the dimpled, curly-haired kind but a sort 
 of Joan of Arc, forever being brave and 
 noble on a white horse. 
 
 "Alas," I sighed to myself, "it is not to 
 be ! I have n't any horse, and I don't 
 know how to get to Billy and I have n't 
 the ghost of an idea what 's the matter 
 with him, anyhow." 
 
 I got up from the railing and wandered 
 aimlessly into the house. Mother had 
 gone out to join Daddy in the garden, and 
 Martha and Jimmy were over at the 
 Hunters'. As I passed the table, I noticed 
 a pile of letters and papers and fingered 
 them idly, wondering who had met the 
 mail boat. There was only one envelope 
 addressed to me, but it was postmarked 
 "Peekskill, N. Y." 
 
 "Dear Jane," I read, when I had 
 hurriedly torn it open. "Indeed, I do 
 remember you very well, and I was so glad
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 237 
 
 to get your letter gladder than you can 
 possibly imagine. For it brought news 
 of Billy, and, Jane, do you know, it is the 
 first news of him we have had for nearly 
 two years. We heard in July, 1918, that 
 he had been taken prisoner. Before that 
 he had been writing regularly, but neither 
 Uncle James nor I have had a letter since, 
 though we found out through the War 
 Department that Billy had been released 
 after the armistice was signed. 
 
 "You can imagine how terribly anxious 
 and unhappy I have been. I had just 
 about made up my mind that he must 
 be dead, when your letter came. It seemed 
 too good to be true. But I 'm still unhappy 
 because I can't understand his not writing. 
 Please ask him to write to me and to Uncle 
 Jim right away and won't you try to 
 find out why he has n't written a word 
 all this time. I have n't the least idea. 
 
 "I '11 send you a real letter soon, but I 
 just can't wait to get this off and hear
 
 238 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 from Billy. Thank you ever and ever and 
 ever so much for writing to me. 
 
 "With love to you and to my brother, 
 
 "Barbara Murdock." 
 
 I read it all through twice. 
 
 "Now, I have to see Billy," I decided. 
 "This is a sign." 
 
 I thought and thought how I could 
 possibly manage it and finally decided 
 that the best way would be to go down in 
 the canoe and try to slip into the passage 
 when the marine on guard outside the 
 fort was on the town side. Once inside, 
 I could prowl around until I found Billy's 
 cell and talk to him through the grilled 
 opening when the sentry was n't looking. 
 
 It worked like a charm as far as getting 
 into the passage was concerned, and as, 
 flashlight in hand, I hurried to the door at 
 the other end, I felt as though I had the 
 Maid of Orleans and the Statue of Liberty 
 and all other famous female heroines 
 skinned a mile.
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 239 
 
 With my free hand I fumbled round my 
 neck for the ribbon on which I always hung 
 the key. There did n't seem to be any 
 ribbon, but of course I knew that there 
 must be. 
 
 Then I suddenly remembered that when 
 I put on my blue dress that afternoon, the 
 neck had been so low that the key ribbon 
 showed, and I had taken it off and put it 
 in my bureau drawer. I remembered it, 
 once my memory started working, only 
 too well; but I hunted anyhow in all my 
 pockets and in the blouse of my dress and 
 down my back and even in my sleeves 
 before I finally gave it up and dropped 
 into a chair. 
 
 "Of all idiots, Jane Graves," I assured 
 myself, "y u take the cake. Some 
 heroine ! Well, I suppose I '11 have to 
 beat it back to the house and get the key." 
 
 I started to the entrance, but after a 
 couple of steps I came back and sat down, 
 feeling too weak in the knees to do any-
 
 240 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 thing else. I had let the stone fall into 
 place behind me, and I knew from bitter 
 experience that that stone could only be 
 moved from the outside. Once before I 
 had shut it by mistake and had had a 
 hectic quarter of an hour sneaking out 
 through the fort and coming back in a 
 rowboat to rescue the Sweetheart. I dis- 
 covered then that the stone moved inward 
 on hinges in its right side but could n't be 
 pulled toward you from the inside because 
 there was nothing to take hold of. It had 
 been a lark that other time, but now I 
 could n't get into the fort. 
 
 "I 'm n not a bit scared," I told the 
 obstinate stone. "Some one will find me." 
 
 I could n't say it very convincingly, 
 though. Not a single person knew of the 
 secret passage, and the stone walls were 
 so thick that I could shout for a month 
 and not be heard, unless some one came 
 into the cellar, which was n't often visited 
 since it was only used as a storehouse for
 
 Horrid ghostly echoes were the only answer. Page 2
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 241 
 
 junk, or unless I should be able to attract 
 the attention of the men who came down 
 to fire the battery three times a day. 
 They had already fired the evening salute, 
 and they took so short a time about it that 
 unless I happened to strike just the minute 
 or two before or after the guns boomed, 
 they would n't do me much good. 
 
 "A first-class rescuer, you are," I said 
 rather quaveringly, and the sound of my 
 voice made me feel worse than ever, so I 
 began yelling and banging on the door of 
 the cellar. Horrid, ghostly echoes were 
 the only answers, and when I was hoarse and 
 my knuckles were all battered up, I sat 
 down again and thought. 
 
 I thought that the Sweetheart would 
 probably drift away as the tide got higher, 
 for I had beached her carelessly, and then 
 some one would find her floating out to 
 sea and think I was drowned. And I 
 thought what a perfect little idiot I had 
 been not to tell Father all about Billy
 
 242 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 instead of running off and deliberately 
 disobeying his orders. And I wished that 
 I had never heard of Joan of Arc and had 
 led a better We generally, and wondered 
 whether I could die of fright or slow starva- 
 tion, and who would find my bones years 
 later and then the flashlight went out ! 
 
 I thought I had lost my voice, but I 
 had n't. All the time that I was frantically 
 trying to turn the light on again and dis- 
 covering that the battery must be worn out, 
 I was yelling at the top of my lungs. Then 
 I suddenly remembered all Poe's stories 
 about people being buried alive and, picking 
 up one of the chairs, I banged it against 
 the cellar door until it broke to pieces 
 (the chair, not the door, alas !) . 
 
 After that I grew sort of coldly resigned 
 to my awful fate and tried to say some 
 prayers and repent of my sins, but I was 
 too excited to remember any prayer except 
 "give us this day our daily bread" and the 
 only sin I could think of was that I had
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 243 
 
 swiped the box of chocolates Lieutenant 
 Porter gave Martha, so I got up again and 
 began feeling around the walls in the forlorn 
 hope of finding another opening. 
 
 The stone was rough and cold and hope- 
 lessly immovable, but I kept on around 
 the room because I could n't think of 
 anything else to do. Suddenly my hand 
 slipped into a hole about on a level with 
 my eyes. I gave a shout and reached 
 into it frantically with both hands, but 
 it proved to be only the entrance to a 
 small pocket in the wall, which was filled 
 with papers. I pulled them out angrily, 
 not even surprised to find them there, and 
 so great was my disappointment that I 
 did n't have the heart to search any 
 farther. Instead I lay down on the floor, 
 buried my face in a pillow and cried like a 
 baby. 
 
 "Jane! Sergeant Jane!" some one was 
 calling. I sat up, rubbing the sleep out 
 of my eyes. I had been having a horrible
 
 244 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 nightmare, I remembered. My hand 
 touched something hard and cold ; it 
 was so dark I could n't see an inch in front 
 of me. Then I realized that I was really 
 in the passage, and it was n't a dream at 
 all. 
 
 "Sergeant Jane, are you in there?" 
 
 The voice was real, too, it seemed. 
 
 "Here I am," I tried to shout, but it 
 sounded more like a chicken squawking. 
 
 "What's the matter? Are you locked 
 in?" the voice demanded. It came from 
 behind the door into the cellar, and I 
 groped my way toward it. 
 
 "How did you know where to find me ?" I 
 asked curiously. 
 
 "Never mind about that now. Where 's 
 the key?" 
 
 "In my top bureau drawer." 
 
 "Sit tight, and I '11 have you out in a 
 jiffy." 
 
 The voice moved away, and I sat down 
 to wait confidently for its return. Who
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 245 
 
 was it that had found me? I wondered. It 
 did n't sound like Daddy or Captain 
 Hunter or Timmons or any of the men from 
 the barracks. And how had he ever known 
 where to look? And had it been three 
 months or only two since I straightened 
 out my top bureau drawer ? 
 
 In an incredibly short time I heard 
 footsteps in the cellar, and then the joyful 
 sound of the key turning in the lock. In 
 a glare of lanterns and flashlights, as the 
 door swung open, I saw Mother and Daddy, 
 their faces white and frightened. Martha 
 and Jimmy were there too and a lot of 
 other people, but Father had me in his 
 arms before I could see them plainly, 
 and the next thing I knew I was lying on 
 the couch in the living room at home, not 
 quite sure how I had reached there, the 
 lights had been so blinding after being 
 shut up in the pitch dark. 
 
 "Oh, Dad, I 'm so sorry," I apologized, 
 sitting up so that I could see him better.
 
 246 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "I disobeyed you and was trying to get to 
 Billy, and it served me right; but it was 
 awful to be locked in there and think 
 there was n't any one who knew where to 
 look for me ! Who thought of my being 
 there?" 
 
 "I did, Sergeant," a familiar voice 
 answered, and I looked up to see Lieutenant 
 Duncan striding across the room. 
 
 "Why, where did you come from?" I 
 demanded, staring at him rudely. 
 
 "Came in on the New York boat this 
 evening to take charge of the Com- 
 mission's marine escort," he replied, grin- 
 ning cheerfully. "Mills got sick at St. 
 Croix. It was a darn good thing for you 
 he did, too, young lady. I prophesied 
 that you would open that door for me some 
 day, but it turned out the other way." 
 
 "They found the Sweetheart bottom thide 
 up down by the drydock," Jimmy broke in, 
 adding blithely, "Gee ! Sis, we thought you 
 were drowned for sure !"
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 247 
 
 "We had all the launches and rowboats 
 out and every man in the barracks scouring 
 the shore," Martha took up the tale. 
 "Then Lieutenant Duncan happened to 
 heah about it at the hotel and found where 
 you were and came back for the key and 
 us. Why did n't you evah tell us about 
 the passage, silly?" 
 
 "Did you find any buried treasure ?" 
 Jimmy inquired with renewed interest. 
 "What 's that in your hand ?" 
 
 I looked down in surprise, not realizing 
 that I had been clutching something in my 
 left hand. "Ugh!" I shuddered. "They 
 are some horrid old papers I found in a hole 
 in the wall after the light went out." I 
 shuddered again as I remembered the 
 feeling of the cold stone all around me, 
 and threw the packet of letters on the 
 floor. 
 
 "Let 's look," cried Jimmy eagerly, 
 grabbing them as they fell. "Let 's read 
 'em."
 
 248 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "Not now, son," Father said quietly. 
 "Give them to me and we '11 look them 
 over to-morrow. It 's after midnight, and 
 we must all go to bed." 
 
 Mother packed us off upstairs and in- 
 sisted upon making Lieutenant Duncan a 
 bed on the couch. 
 
 "Indeed you will stay with us," I heard 
 her insisting, "not only to-night, but all 
 the time you 're here. When I think how 
 we would be feeling now and where Jane 
 would be if you had n't come " She 
 broke off abruptly and pretended to be 
 very busy fixing the pillows on the couch. 
 
 "Yes, but remember I was responsible 
 for her knowing about that damn I beg 
 your pardon, Mrs. Graves; that slipped 
 out that dangerous place, and it would 
 have been my " Lieutenant Duncan's 
 voice trailed off into an unintelligible 
 murmur as he followed Mother into the 
 kitchen. 
 
 I called to Father when he came upstairs,
 
 I DISOBEY MY SUPERIOR OFFICER 249 
 
 and he came and stood in the door of my 
 room. 
 
 "I want to tell you, Daddy," I said, 
 trying to sound unconcerned, "that I 
 think you should break me demote me, 
 you know. Nobody ought to be a ser- 
 geant who can't obey orders." 
 
 "Just as you say, Jane," he replied 
 gravely. "But you will tell me all about 
 it, won't you?" 
 
 "To-morrow," I promised, standing on 
 tiptoes to kiss him goodnight.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 
 
 we weren't the only ^ones who 
 knew about the passage, after all," 
 Lieutenant Duncan said, grinning 
 at my woebegone expression as I folded 
 up the last letter and stuck it back into 
 the packet. 
 
 We had all all, that is, except Daddy, 
 who had gone into town to see the Com- 
 missioners off and arrange a few days' 
 leave for Mr. Duncan been spending 
 the early morning out on the porch, 
 investigating the papers I had found in 
 the wall of the secret passage. 
 
 There were a dozen letters, mostly 
 written in German which Martha and the 
 Lieutenant between them managed to
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 251 
 
 translate, several sheets of memoranda 
 and a small map. Jimmy's hopes revived 
 at the sight of the map, and he was all 
 prepared to start off on a treasure hunt, 
 but it proved to be nothing but an ordinary 
 colored map of the Virgin Islands with a 
 great many small black crosses on it in 
 different places. 
 
 The notes were disconnected words and 
 figures that Lieutenant Duncan decided 
 represented statistics as to the population, 
 imports and such things of the islands. 
 
 The letters were all written by a German 
 soldier who signed himself "Franz", and 
 addressed to either "Hebe Mina" or "my 
 dear brother." The envelopes had evi- 
 dently been destroyed, and there was no 
 clue to any of the people's surnames. 
 The letters themselves told for the most 
 part of the writer's experiences in the 
 trenches, and there were many bitter 
 allusions in those of later date to the 
 "traitorous Americans" who had "come
 
 252 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 into the war on the wrong side." In some 
 of the letters to "brother" there were 
 instructions for stirring up the negroes of 
 the islands against the English and Amer- 
 icans and for sending information back to 
 Germany. The last letter was dated 
 October, 1918. 
 
 "Yes, we Ve found out that some one 
 else knows about our passage," I agreed, 
 "but that 's about all we have found out. 
 These might have been exciting enough 
 two years ago, but they 're all out of date 
 now. Isn't that just my luck!" 
 
 "I think they 're still interesting," 
 Mother remarked, looking up from her 
 sewing. "You know there was quite a 
 little secret-service work done here during 
 the war by the marine officers. They found 
 several spies and made some pretty rigid 
 investigations, and most of the Germans 
 suddenly became Danish or Swiss. Major 
 Elliot was here then, and he was telling me 
 about it the other night."
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 253 
 
 " Evidently some devoted admirer of the 
 Kaiser did n't wish to have any incriminat- 
 ing evidence found on his person," Lieu- 
 tenant Duncan suggested, tapping the 
 letters. 
 
 "Well, he had a good hiding place," I 
 admitted. "I wonder why he did n't get 
 them back after the war was over." 
 
 "Probably the fort was a little too well 
 guarded to make it worth his while to 
 bother about them." 
 
 "I 'd love to know who they are, 
 would n't you ? There are still such a 
 lot of Germans on St. Thomas that we 
 could never find them." 
 
 "I'll look out for Mina and for Franz 
 and his brother," Jimmy promised. "I 'd 
 sort of like to be a detective, I think. 
 Say, that Franz was a nice chap, wasn't 
 he?" 
 
 " Horrible ! " Martha shuddered. " Is n't 
 the calm way he tells about murdering 
 those women and children ghastly?"
 
 254 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "What struck me as the crudest thing 
 of all," Lieutenant Duncan remarked, "is 
 his description of the trick they played on 
 that poor Yank prisoner. Where is that 
 letter?" 
 
 Just as he found it, Father came up the 
 path and, after stopping for a minute to 
 assure the Lieutenant that the Com- 
 missioners thought they could get along 
 without him for two more days, he put 
 his arm through mine and walked me into 
 the house with him. 
 
 "Now tell me all about everything," he 
 ordered, as I curled up on the couch beside 
 him. 
 
 So I began at the beginning and told him 
 all I knew or imagined about Billy Mur- 
 dock, and finally I ran upstairs and brought 
 down Barbara's letter for Father to read. 
 
 "Get your hat," he said, when he had 
 finished the letter. " We 're going to call 
 on Murdock without another minute's 
 delay."
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 255 
 
 We found Billy, looking white and miser- 
 able, sitting on the cot in his cell. 
 
 "We 've come to have a little talk with 
 you, Murdock," Father began quietly, as 
 he returned Billy's salute. "May we sit 
 down?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Billy nervously. 
 
 So Daddy sat down beside him on the 
 cot, and I sat on the wooden stool in the 
 
 corner. 
 
 
 I want you to believe that we 're 
 your friends, Murdock," Father began. 
 "We 'd like to help you if we possibly can, 
 but I don't believe we can do anything 
 unless you 're willing to be perfectly frank 
 with us." 
 
 Billy started to answer; then broke off 
 and buried his face in his hands. 
 
 "If it will make it any easier for you to 
 talk," Father assured him kindly, "I can 
 promise that if you do not wish it, nothing 
 you say to us shall go any further. Jane 
 has told me that you have been unlike
 
 256 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 yourself down here, and if you 're in trouble, 
 she wants to help you and so do I." 
 
 "You 're too good to me, sir," Billy 
 muttered, not raising his head. "But 
 there 's nothing you can do." 
 
 Father looked at me despairingly and 
 shook his head as though he thought it 
 was a hopeless task. 
 
 I made up my mind that I would at least 
 make him show signs of life. 
 
 "Billy," I said. "Here 's a letter from 
 Barbara." 
 
 He jumped to his feet so suddenly that 
 we both started. 
 
 "Where?" he asked hoarsely. "Show it 
 to me. What does she say?" 
 
 "If you '11 sit down and listen quietly," 
 I bribed, "I '11 read it all to you." 
 
 While I was reading, his eyes never 
 left my face, but when I had finished, he 
 whispered "God bless her" and covered 
 his face again. I thought that he was 
 crying and was hoping that Daddy would
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 257 
 
 think of something to say, when suddenly 
 he stood up again. His face was whiter 
 than ever, but there were no signs of tears, 
 and he held his head high. 
 
 "I think I 'II tell you, sir," he said to 
 Father very quietly. " It 's been too much 
 for me to keep to myself. You see how 
 I 've had to treat my sister, who is dearer 
 to me than anything in the world. I Ve 
 let her think me dead and I want her 
 to think so again rather than to know 
 that I 'm a traitor !" 
 
 He shuddered at the last word but did n't 
 break down. Father reached up and pulled 
 him back to the cot. 
 
 "Now, tell me all about it, my boy," he 
 said gently, putting an arm around Billy's 
 shoulders. This unexpected kindness was 
 too much for the boy, but he finally con- 
 trolled himself and told his story. 
 
 "I was with the 4th Regiment, Company 
 A, in Belleau Woods, sir, as you know. I 
 had only been with them a few days
 
 258 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 came up with some replacements. My 
 buddy Jim Wilson went West our 
 first day up. It got me rather badly. I 
 guess I was still pretty shaky from the flu. 
 
 "One night we went out a patrol of 
 six men to try to find out if the Boches 
 were planning an attack. Our bit of line 
 was very weakly held more replacements 
 had been due but had n't gotten through 
 and our only hope was that the Boche 
 would n't discover our weakness. 
 
 "We got across No Man's Land without 
 any trouble, but within a few feet of their 
 trenches somebody made a noise, and in a 
 second a dozen Fritzies were on top of us. 
 I remember a huge form towering over me 
 and a whizzing sound. When I came to, I 
 was lying in a sort of dugout, and a fat 
 blonde Boche was holding my head as 
 tenderly as if I 'd been his best girl." 
 
 Billy stopped a minute, breathless. It 
 was the first time he had told his story, 
 and he seemed to be living it over again.
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 259 
 
 Neither Father nor I made a sound, and 
 soon he went on. 
 
 "I couldn't guess why he was being so 
 kind to me, and he surprised me even more, 
 for as soon as he saw my eyes were open, he 
 grinned at me horribly and grunted, 'Well, 
 Mr. Yank, how feel you by now ? Ve are 
 very, very grateful to you, yah ! You haf 
 don us one great favor.' 
 
 "I could n't imagine what he was driving 
 at and told him so. 
 
 "Then he said I can see him leering 
 now * You pretend you don't remember, 
 heh ? You don't want your friends to know 
 you betrayed them, nein ? Nefer mind all 
 that ; you told us where to attack, so we 
 haf your live saved. Ah-hah dey're off ! ' 
 
 "'You're a liar!' I shrieked furiously. 
 
 "I would n't believe it I would n't let 
 myself. It made me physically sick just 
 to think about it. But the Germans were 
 certainly attacking, and the man who led 
 me back to the detention camp knew all
 
 260 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 about it and told me that the rest of my 
 patrol had been killed and my life alone 
 spared, in return for the information I had 
 given. The other prisoners heard about it 
 and ostracized me. 
 
 "I still kept hoping against hope that it 
 was n't true, but when the armistice was 
 signed and I came back to my company, 
 I found that the Boches had made a sur- 
 prise attack that night and killed the 
 captain and over thirty men. I feel as 
 though I had murdered them. Even if 
 I betrayed them unconsciously, that only 
 makes the thing worse ; it proves I 'm a 
 coward and a traitor at heart. Now you 
 know what 's been the matter with me ! 
 Now you know " 
 
 "Billy! Billy!" I shouted. I had had 
 my mouth open for two minutes, but not 
 a sound had come before. "Billy, you 
 did n't betray them at all ! I know all 
 about it. That awful old Boche made it 
 all up and wrote to his brother about it."
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 261 
 
 Billy and Father stared at me wild-eyed. 
 
 "It was just a trick he made up to get 
 even with you because he hated all Ameri- 
 cans for coming into the war," I hurried on 
 breathlessly. "It 's all in one of those 
 letters I found in the passage. Franz, his 
 name was, and they knew about your line 
 being weak and had that attack all planned 
 before they ever saw you. It was just his 
 idea of a practical joke ' another example 
 of their despicable Kultur ' Lieutenant Dun- 
 can called it. So you 're not a traitor at 
 all, Billy; you're not!" 
 
 They still stared at me in bewilderment, 
 although Billy's face had lightened wonder- 
 fully, and I had to explain in minutest 
 detail all about the letters I had found, one 
 of which contained the account of just such 
 a trick as had been played on Billy. 
 
 "But how can you be sure it was me he 
 wrote about?" Billy asked doubtfully. 
 
 "Of course it was," I protested stoutly. 
 
 "It seems quite likely," Father agreed,
 
 262 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "and even if it were n't, I 'm sure that 
 Billy had the same thing happen to him." 
 
 "Are you really?" the boy questioned 
 eagerly. "You don't think me a traitor, 
 sir? You won't discharge me from the 
 marines ? " 
 
 "I 'd be willing to stake my last cent on 
 your loyalty," Father assured him gravely, 
 "but not on your discretion. Whatever 
 made you insult Lieutenant Porter?" 
 
 Billy's happy smile vanished. "I had 
 forgotten that, Colonel," he confessed. "I 
 think I must have been half crazy. I was 
 almost mad worrying over this thing and 
 being ashamed to let my sister know I was 
 alive or to have any friends. I was begin- 
 ning to think I could n't stand it another 
 minute and when I saw that Boche get 
 off the boat I did n't " 
 
 "That Boche?" Daddy and I repeated 
 in chorus. 
 
 "Yes, the one who made me his prisoner. 
 That 's the man I was talking to on the
 
 BILLY EXPLAINS 263 
 
 wharf. I was trying to find out the truth of 
 it all, and he pretended not to remember 
 me. Then I got so excited that I forgot 
 where I was and who Lieutenant Porter 
 was and everything else. I could n't think 
 of anything except getting that dirty Boche 
 to talk." 
 
 "Father," I cried excitedly, "Timmons 
 told me that German's name was Franz 
 Zeitler, and the man who wrote the letter 
 was named Franz and they both have 
 relatives here at St. Thomas. It must be 
 the same man !" 
 
 "That would be a lucky coincidence!" 
 Daddy exclaimed. "Your Franz went on 
 with the boat, but we can trace him through 
 the people he visited here. That will prove 
 your innocence unquestionably, Murdock, 
 although I haven't the slightest doubt of 
 it myself without further proof. I will 
 explain the whole thing to the other officers, 
 and I 'm sure you will be let off with a light 
 penalty."
 
 264 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 "I can't thank you, Colonel," Billy 
 began, but Father cut him off with a hearty 
 "Good-by and good luck", for he hated to 
 be thanked. 
 
 " Say, Sergeant," he called after me shyly, 
 as we started out, "I wonder if you could 
 get me some paper. I want to write a 
 letter."
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 SEMPER FIDELIS 
 
 MOTHER was doing her hair one 
 afternoon several days later when 
 I dropped down on her bed, being 
 careful not to muss the shams. 
 
 "Are you going to the dance to-morrow 
 night?" I asked carelessly. 
 
 "Of course, dear," she answered absently, 
 sticking a big bone hairpin into place. 
 " It 's the last thing given for the Com- 
 mission, and it 's up to us to be there." 
 
 "Us? Joshua, not the whole family!" 
 
 "Oh, no," Mother laughed. "I hardly 
 think that 's necessary. I 'm going to take 
 Martha although she does n't know it 
 yet and has nearly pestered me to death
 
 266 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 but I think you and Jimmy may be ex- 
 cused." 
 
 "Maybe I could stand it this once, if 
 you think it 's my duty. I suppose it 
 would be politer to the Commissioners for 
 us all to be there." 
 
 I tried to look like a would-be martyr, 
 but I evidently did n't succeed very well, 
 for Mother started to laugh. 
 
 "Jane, Jane," she gasped, wiping her 
 eyes, "since when have your duties weighed 
 so heavily upon you ? It 's mighty sweet 
 and unselfish of you to offer, and I appre- 
 ciate your willingness to undergo this 
 hardship for the sake of the family honor 
 
 but I don't really believe it will be 
 
 \ 
 
 necessary." 
 
 Then I realized that she was n't to be 
 deceived, so I gave up diplomacy and threw 
 myself on her mercy. 
 
 "I want to go to that dance, Mother. 
 Please let me," I begged. 
 
 I teased and coaxed and pleaded for half
 
 SEMPER FIDELIS 267 
 
 an hour, and Mother just smiled her most 
 beamish smile and murmured, "Remember 
 Norfolk?" and "Next time will be never," 
 and "What about the silly fops?" 
 
 Then I began making promises. I 
 promised never to fight with Jimmy or 
 Martha, and always to be on time to meals, 
 and to get ninety in all my lessons and eat 
 string beans and learn to sew and straighten 
 my bureau drawers once a week and never, 
 never say "Oh, Joshua!" and finally she 
 said, "Well, just this once. But never 
 again until you are seventeen. Now run, 
 dress for dinner." 
 
 I went halfway across the hall and then 
 back and stuck my head in the door. 
 
 "What do you think about wearing my 
 hair up ? " I suggested brightly. 
 
 "I don't think about it at all, you ridic- 
 ulous child. Why, when I was fourteen - 
 
 I did n't wait to hear the rest ; I knew it 
 would be discouraging. Instead I went 
 and looked at myself in Martha's long
 
 268 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 mirror. I was n't exactly tall, I had to 
 admit, and I was rather thin, slender 
 sounded better, or willowy. But looking 
 facts squarely in the eye, I felt positive 
 that except for the babyish Russian-blouse 
 dresses Mother made me wear and the 
 childish length of my hair, which was just 
 below my shoulders and had ends that 
 curled up and made it look even shorter, 
 except for these unfair handicaps I looked 
 every day of fifteen ! 
 
 I had a darling new pale-green dress, 
 made of some soft shimmery stuff, with 
 a really low neck and almost no sleeves, 
 and best of all a broad satin sash instead 
 of an everlasting old patent-leather belt. 
 In that dress I might even look sixteen ! 
 except for my hair. I pulled the comb 
 through the tangles crossly and ran down 
 to dinner. 
 
 The dance was to be in the court, and all 
 the next day, after the grass had been cut 
 as short as possible, the men rolled it until
 
 SEMPER FIDELIS 269 
 
 it was as hard and smooth as a prize putting 
 green. A platform was put up at each 
 end, one for our own band and one for an ' 
 orchestra from the town, and Japanese 
 lanterns were strung on wires all around 
 and across the lawn. 
 
 Jimmy and I had to oversee all the 
 preparations and that and other things 
 made me a little late getting dressed. 
 
 "Are n't you evah coming down, Jane ?" 
 Martha kept calling up the stairs. 
 
 She was out on the porch with a whole 
 bunch of lieutenants who were fighting 
 over her program and fussing with our 
 own lanterns which would n't stay lighted. 
 I did n't see why she had to bother about 
 me, and I stayed upstairs just as long as 
 I wanted to. To be perfectly frank, I was 
 a tiny bit scared to come down. 
 
 Finally I took a long breath and ran 
 down the stairs. Mother and the Hunters 
 and several of the Commissioners were in 
 the living room, for the music had n't started.
 
 270 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 Mother never raises her voice at least 
 she says a lady never does, and she usually 
 practices what she preaches but I guess 
 she forgot for a minute. 
 
 "Jane!" she shrieked. "Jane Graves! 
 What have you done to your hair?" 
 
 "Bobbed it," I answered calmly, though 
 my knees seemed a little nervous. "Don't 
 you like it?" 
 
 "Like it? Like it?" 
 
 She seemed to be overcome, and I 
 was n't sure that it was with pleasure. 
 
 "What evah made you do it, Jane?" 
 inquired Mrs. Hunter. "You Ve been 
 having such a time ovah getting it long." 
 
 "It's a bit impressionistic, isn't it?" 
 Captain Hunter chuckled. "Or perhaps 
 it 's Bohemian !" 
 
 I had done the cutting myself with my 
 manicure scissors, and maybe it was n't 
 exactly even, but there was nothing to 
 make such a fuss over that I could see. 
 
 "C can anything be done?" Mother
 
 SEMPER FIDELIS 271 
 
 asked weakly, shutting her eyes as though 
 she did n't want to look at me. 
 
 "I don't know, but I'll try," Mrs. 
 Hunter offered cheerfully. "Come on, 
 Jane, let me trim you up a bit." 
 
 She marched me back to my room and 
 clipped around my head with scissors and 
 a comb for perfect centuries. At last she 
 stood off and looked me over. 
 
 "Theah, now, you look civilized at least," 
 she announced. "I really think you look 
 mighty cute, but don't you dahe tell you' 
 Mothah I said so, oah she '11 think I en- 
 couraged you in the fihst place. What 
 evah made you do it, Jane?" 
 
 "Well, I 'II tell you," I decided, taking 
 a look in the mirror and discovering that 
 I did look less Bolshevistic than before 
 Mrs. Hunter trimmed me off. "Mother 
 wouldn't let me put my hair up for the 
 dance, and I looked so young with it hang- 
 ing over my shoulders that I decided to 
 bob it. Lots of grown people bob their
 
 272 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 \ 
 
 hair, so no one can tell how old I am now, 
 can they?" 
 
 Mrs. Hunter fluffed out my hair on both 
 sides and kissed me before she answered. 
 
 "You ah always original, Jane," she said, 
 laughing. "And you look at least twenty- 
 five ! I 'm only glad you did n't decide 
 you wanted to be sixty and bald !" 
 
 By the time I reached the court, it was 
 almost filled with the Commissioners and 
 the officers of their escort and our own 
 officers and more town people than had 
 ever before been invited to a barracks 
 dance. 
 
 The music was great military time 
 at one end and St. Thomas jazz at the 
 other and I was glad when Bob Duncan 
 suddenly appeared from somewhere and 
 hustled me on to the floor. 
 
 " What 's this ? What 's this ? " he cried, 
 as we passed under one of the lanterns. 
 "Going back to our childhood days? 
 That 's the way you looked at Norfolk."
 
 SEMPER FIDELIS 273 
 
 "Oh don't you think it makes me 
 look older?" I inquired anxiously. 
 
 "Una-m," he pondered deeply. "I 'd 
 hardly say older," he decided, crushing 
 heartlessly my fondest hopes. "At least 
 not much. This afternoon you were a 
 demure little girl about eight years old, 
 and now you look like a mischievous small 
 boy of nine." 
 
 My spirits fell greatly at this blow, but 
 they could n't stay fallen ; I was having too 
 good a time. The Cleret boys were there, 
 and most of Martha's lieutenants thought 
 they would make a hit with her by dancing 
 with her "baby sister", and even if they 
 were patronizing they knew some dandy 
 new steps, and so did Lieutenant Duncan. 
 And when I went over to get some punch, 
 and Billy smiled at me proudly from behind 
 the bowl and pointed to a corporal's chevron 
 on his sleeve, I was so happy I wanted to 
 squeal. 
 
 After the next dance I slipped back to
 
 \ 
 
 274 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 shake hands with Billy. He was grinning 
 from ear to ear. 
 
 "Won't Barbara be glad?" he demanded, 
 wringing my hand. " I owe it all to you and 
 your Father, Sergeant. I can't thank " 
 
 "Don't, Billy. We didn't do anything, 
 but we 're both as proud as Punch of you." 
 
 "Do you know what the Colonel said to 
 me, Sergeant? He said, 'Murdock, you 
 know the meaning of Semper Fidelis, of 
 course?' 'Yes, sir,' I told him. * It means 
 always on the job, sir.' 'Right,' he said. 
 'You 've been faithful as a private, Mur- 
 dock ; now I want you to be even more so 
 as a corporal." 
 
 " I 'm sure you will, Billy," I assured 
 him, shaking hands again. Then I hurried 
 back to dance with the least portly of the 
 Commissioners, and I was so amused at the 
 sight of Billy ladling lemonade on to the 
 table in absent-minded bliss that I actually 
 enjoyed it the one-step, I mean with 
 the Commissioner.
 
 SEMPER FIDELIS 275 
 
 It was all over lots too soon, and Lieuten- 
 ant Duncan walked back to the house with 
 me to say good-by, for the Commission was 
 leaving for St. John on the early morning 
 boat, and he had to hurry back to the hotel 
 to set the alarm clocks and pack the bags ! 
 
 "Why can't such good times last?" 
 I demanded, as we sat down on the couch 
 hammock to wait for the others. "Was n't 
 it fun?" 
 
 "It was bully ! But you '11 have lots of 
 other times just as good. Remember that 
 night at Norfolk? You never dreamed 
 then that you 'd like St. Thomas so much, 
 did you?" 
 
 "I should say not," I had to acknowl- 
 edge. "I hated to leave Norfolk. But 
 now I love it here even more. It 's the 
 nicest home we Ve ever had and we '11 
 have to leave it like all the others !" 
 
 "Yes, but the next place will probably 
 be even nicer." 
 
 "Maybe ! Sometimes, though, I feel like
 
 276 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 a girl without a country. Other girls have 
 homes that are homes, and friends that 
 don't get sent away as soon as you begin to 
 know them.'* 
 
 "Oh, I don't feel a bit that way about 
 it," Bob disagreed, very much in earnest. 
 "The whole blessed United States is our 
 home ;* we know all of her, even to her 
 smallest colonies, while the poor stay-at- 
 homes just know one little corner of New 
 England or Iowa or Texas and think of 
 that as their country." 
 
 "Why, I never thought of it that way," 
 I cried, delighted. "That 's a great idea, 
 Bob. And we have our own friends, too, 
 in all parts of the country, and we 're 
 always meeting new ones and coming 
 across old ones." 
 
 "Which is the nicest thing of all," he 
 grinned at me. "Here's hoping that our 
 next 'coming across' will be soon." 
 
 "And that next time I get in a scrape, 
 you '11 appear to pull me out," I added.
 
 The whole blessed United States is our home." Page 276.
 
 SEMPER FIDELIS 277 
 
 Then Daddy and Mother and Martha 
 came up on the porch, and we all said 
 good-by and promised to write. 
 
 "We 'H walk down to the gate with you, 
 Lieutenant," Father offered, slipping his 
 arm into mine, "to wish you one more 
 'good luck.'" 
 
 After he had gone, we stood together at 
 the gate, watching the tall white figure 
 disappear into the darkness of the road. 
 
 "Have a good time to-night, Sergeant 
 Jinks?" Daddy asked, pulling one of my 
 abbreviated locks. 
 
 "Scrumptious," I assured him. "But 
 you must n't call me Sergeant any more." 
 
 "No? Why not? Are you planning to 
 disobey orders again, or do you want a 
 commission ? " 
 
 "You bet I'm not and don't," I 
 declared fervently. 
 
 Father sometimes forgot to correct me 
 when I used unladylike expressions. 
 
 " In that case, I think you can have your
 
 278 SERGEANT JANE 
 
 rank restored," he said gravely. "But 
 you know a sergeant in the Marines must 
 be" 
 
 "Semper Fidelis," I interrupted. "Well, 
 I had to promise to be that and more too 
 before Mother would let me come to the 
 dance to-night ! Oh, Josh I mean 
 Oh, my goodness me ! I 'm just naturally 
 going to turn into an angel of peace instead 
 of a fighting marine!" 
 
 "I'm not worrying," Daddy laughed. 
 "Not so long as your name is Jinks !"
 
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