"I don't say he isn't," Kelly rejoined. "What I'm advising you is not to conclude that a man is worthless just because he talks. For that matter, Riley, I believe that the men we have most to fear are spies who manage to get in the Army, talk straight and do their work well, and all the time they're plotting all kinds of mischief. Like the fellow or the chaps who put that powdered glass in the chow of F company not long ago."
"Here's hoping I live to see Mock hanged!" grumbled Private Riley, as Sergeant Kelly moved away.
Kelly, who had served as sergeant with Dick in other regiments, had followed him into the Ninety-ninth. Prescott rejoiced that he had this excellent fellow with him, as capable first sergeants are always looked upon in the light of prizes.
Yet, in a—-to him—-new man Greg Holmes had an almost equally good top in Lund, a Swede who had put in ten years in the Army.
When Greg dropped into the company office that forenoon, Lund handed him a list of men who had put in application for pass that afternoon. It was to be a visitors' afternoon, and there would be no drills.
"Nineteen, and all good conduct men, Sergeant Lund," commented Greg, glancing over the list and reaching for a pencil with which to O.K. the list.
"And two more put in application, but I didn't put their names down, sir," Lund explained, as he stood at the side of the young captain at the desk.
"Who were they?"
"Mock and Wilhelm."
"Have they behaved themselves since they got out of arrest?"