“Sure!” Dan Casey put up his finger knowingly. “They thought I was a captain in Uncle Sam’s army an’ I lit them remain under that impression. Carl’s me second sergeant, so he is.”
At this point another individual, short and rather stocky, came up, also dressed in the uniform of a Japanese soldier. For a moment he stared in amazement at Gilbert, then rushed in and embraced the ex-lieutenant.
“Vell, py chimanatics!” he burst out. “Of dis ton’t peat der pand annahow! Lieutenant Bennington, or I vas plind! How in der vorld did you got here, told me dot. Vas you in der army too?”
“How are you, Stummer?” and Gilbert shook hands warmly with the former soldier of the U. S. regulars. “I declare, it seems like old times to see you and Casey together, and in army uniform. No, I am not in the army, but I may be, if I see many more of our old crowd joining. So you are a sergeant, and Casey too. Let me congratulate you.”
“Dank you, lieutenant. Yah, I vas an officer now. Casey, he gits me dot chob. Dan vos a great feller annahow. He makes dem dink he vos a major, or somedings like dot.”
“Oh, I was after lettin’ ’em do their own guessing,” put in Dan Casey. “But we really got in on our merits,” he added. “’Tis a company of sharpshooters we have, an’ Carl an’ I had to qualify for our positions.”
“And what score did you make?” questioned Gilbert, with a soldier’s keen interest in such matters.
“Oh, I was lucky. I got ninety-six points out of a possible hundred, an’ Carl got ninety-six points. The Japs thought both were great scores.”
“And they were,” answered Gilbert, for he himself was a good marksman, but had never done quite as well. “Where are you bound for?” he added, after a pause.
“We have orders to Ping-yang. After that I’m afther thinkin’ we’ll get orders to drive the Russians northward beyand the Yalu River—if we can do it.”