“That the fellow you set free, Bob?” asked Alan. “Arthur told me about it. He said he did his best to dissuade you.”
“Yes, I was rather a fool,” said Bob. “Without Larry—and Lucy—I don’t think I’d have pulled it off.”
“How soon do you cross the Channel, Alan?” asked General Gordon.
“Three days from now, Cousin James, unless another storm delays sailings.”
“It’s a hard winter. I’m glad you’re out of Archangel, Bob,” said the general. “I wish all our boys were—or else big reinforcements sent that might accomplish something.”
“That’s the idea, Cousin James. Enough to smash the Bolshies and quit. They seem uncommon strong and pig-headed of late. Ask Bob the theory he stuffed me with up there. He thinks they have real pig-heads—Boche officers—leading them.”
“I shouldn’t wonder. How are you now, Alan? Foot feel all right?”
“Yes, sir. I’m absolutely in the pink. I’d like some work to do, but Lucy won’t let me help her at the hospital.”
“Yes, I will, if there’s anything you know how to do,” Lucy offered. “Could you get rid of any energy bottling spring water?”
“Might try. Better than sitting inside the hospital, staring at the pine trees and trying to coax your little friend to talk to me.”