“What?” growled the major. “In town without a pass, eh? What have you got to say for yourself, young man?”
“Well,” Tommy replied, “the other day you told me never to question an order in the Army, and if I couldn’t obey an order to come as near it as I could.”
“What rigamarole is this?” asked Major Krause angrily. “Do you mean to stand there and tell me I ordered you to go A. W. O. L?”
“Not exactly, sir,” answered Tommy respectfully, “but you see this order here. I couldn’t see my way clear to carry it out, so I thought I’d better leave here so as not to embarrass you.”
Major Krause looked at the paper Tommy extended and his eyes goggled. His face became more congested than ever, and wrinkles corrugated his brow. What could he do? If he court-martialed this young idiot this order would undoubtedly be his defense, and Krause’s dignity, a carefully tended hothouse plant of uncertain virility, could hardly survive. So he waved his arms in a furious gesture of dismissal and gurgled like an active volcano, and Tommy saluted and left discreetly.
The paper he had given Krause read:
1st. Lieut. Thomas Lang, A. S. S. O. R. C.
Transferred from Section 13 to Death in Line of Duty.
by order of
—HERMAN KRAUSE, MAJOR, SIGNAL CORPS.
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the July 1, 1928 issue of Adventure magazine.