“Yes, sir.” She glanced at the sentry.
“Come into the kitchen. There is a conference in the front room. Now what is it?” he demanded when they had reached the rear room and the door was closed behind them.
“I have just broken out of jail and have come here to ask you to straighten the matter out for me. Miss Briggs is a lawyer, but her sort of law isn’t good on the western front. Besides, she is an accessory both before and after the fact, as she would characterize it.”
“I don’t quite understand,” wondered the captain.
“It is not customary with me to carry my troubles to others, but something must be done or I shall have to go to General Gordon and enter a formal complaint, which I do not wish to do,” began Grace. She thereupon related the story of their ejection from the cottage where they had planned to berth the previous night; their finding a place to sleep in a camion; the arrival at the river and their arrest and imprisonment in the cellar, followed by their smashing the door and taking matters into their own hands.
As Grace related the story a flush mounted to the temples of the Intelligence officer.
“Outrageous! Asinine!” he exclaimed explosively. “You are right, this sort of thing must be put down. I think I see how it happened that you were kept in the cellar. We are on the border of the enemy territory, theoretically on it already, and the officers are very busy this evening, for we have many uncertainties ahead of us.”
“I understand, sir, and should not have come to you, but for the fact that I am likely to be picked up by the M. P. again at any moment.”
“Rest easy. I will attend to that.”
“Thank you. Please do not report the eviction incident. We can settle it when we get to the Rhine, or perhaps by then it will have settled itself,” urged Grace.