Velo mumbled his name, a deadly fear growing in him. He was a coward and the thought of bloodshed filled him with a cold, deadly terror.
He regarded the Lieutenant with staring eyes. His teeth chattered.
The young officer smiled. He called two soldiers.
"Take this man to the South Barracks," he said coldly. "Under guard," he added significantly. He knew men. He saw that the boy before him would have to be whipped into shape. He thought of a recruit made the day before. Zaidos his name was. He remembered with respect and appreciation the manner of the lad. He looked once more at the new recruit. Then he took a piece of paper from his desk, wrote one word on it, addressed it "Officer in Command at South Recruiting Station," handed it to one of the soldiers standing beside Velo, and turned away. For him the incident was closed.
But Velo, feeling as though he was under arrest, walked miserably and fearfully through the streets, a soldier on either side, wondering with all his might what was written in the folded paper.
He finally asked the bearer to let him see it, but the soldier refused scornfully. As they neared the South Station his fears grew, if such a thing could be possible. Once more he tried to get the mysterious note. He had some money with him. He tried to bribe the man. For answer the soldier struck him in the face. Velo sunk into a sulky silence, and stood with eyes on the ground while the officer in charge opened the message and read the single word therein.
"Good enough!" he exclaimed. "Just what we need!" and waved the two men toward an inner room where Velo was stripped of his comfortable clothes and fitted to the new uniform of the Greek Army.
And not until then did he find out his fate. A third man sauntered up and stood watching.
"Rank and file?" he said jestingly.
"No," said the man who had carried the note. "Stoker!"