Lieutenant Prescott, holding one hand over his mouth, used the other to beckon as soon as he could catch Noll's eye.
Noll went over to him, saluting, out of sight of any one at the post office window.
"Cut out some of this comedy, Terry," begged the lieutenant in a whisper, "or I shall laugh outright and betray myself."
Noll once more saluted gravely, then returned to his post at the general delivery window.
All traces of the military had left Noll Terry's appearance. His khaki uniform was hidden under the jumper and overalls that Postmaster Dent had loaned him. Even his erect carriage had vanished. Noll now looked as though he had been round-shouldered from the cradle. His crisp speaking tone had given way to a drawl, and his look was stupid.
The three soldiers were alone in the general delivery room, Noll the only one of them at any time visible.
Toward the front of the room was a door opening out on the lobby of the post office. Behind this stood Lieutenant Prescott in uniform, but without his sword. Over the right hip dangled a holster in which lay a service revolver, ready for instant work.
Further down the general delivery room, on the other side of the window, was a door opening also into the lobby. Behind this Private Hal Overton, also in uniform, was stationed. He, too, wore a revolver in holster over his right hip, for the bunkies, when sent into town as orderlies, had been armed with revolvers, as is the custom in the case of officers' orderlies in the field.
Noll's revolver lay on a little shelf out of sight under the window ledge.