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"I've been awake for forty-eight hours, Major. But--oh, I'm not sleepy."

"Richard Thorndyke Smith! My dear boy," she cried, while the nieces gasped at each other with gestures and looks all the way between Terpsichore and Melpomene, and then the four cried in chorus, "We know your mother!"

I surrender, he said, with amiable ease.

"No, sir."

"Neither was Lieutenant Ferry," she dryly responded, "yet I have it from him."

"General Austin believes it is. You're being used to bait a trap, Richard."

"I naturally thought," resumed I, with a smile meant to refer to the blond dancer, "that the madam must be away somewhere."

He hiccoughed. "Let's--s'--see y' orders."

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